Shattered Dreams (Boys of Bellerose, #3)(62)

“Love you,” I called after him.

“Love you more,” he shot back, before quickly ducking inside the bathroom and slamming the door so I couldn’t respond.

Bastard.

Pulling on jeans over my panties, and making sure my shirt was in place, I left the room determined to find Gray. I was about to text him to suggest a meetup, when I realized there was no need. He was sitting in the living room, staring at the door I’d just exited as if he’d been waiting for me to.

“Everything okay with Rhett?” he asked, immediately on his feet. He moved fast for a big guy.

“Not really, but I think it will be,” I replied, before swallowing roughly. I wanted to try and have this conversation openly and without anger. At least until I got his side of the story. “Wait, how did you know that something might be wrong with Rhett?”

“He mentioned therapy, and I know how that shit destroys you after years of repressed trauma. I’ve been worried about him.” His gaze traced over me quickly. “And you.”

Fuck. Right.

“I was actually looking for you,” I said softly. “I think it’s time we talked.”

The relief that crossed his face hit me harder than I’d expected. The last few days had been hell for me, but clearly, it’d been the same for Grayson. That relaxed more of my anger toward him, and channeling Dr. Candace, I opened myself up to hearing whatever Gray had to say… all the while desperately hoping that there was a really good explanation for my memories of that night.

“Should we sit?” he suggested, waving to the chair he’d just vacated.

I nodded but didn’t take the spot beside him—firstly, because his close presence usually ensured that I was less than focused and, secondly, because we weren’t there yet. Maybe we’d never be, depending on what was said next.

“I’m so sorry that I disappeared after our night together, Billie,” he started, and I blinked at what felt like an odd opening. This wasn’t at all about the sex, and we both knew it. “I can only imagine how you felt and what you thought when I up and disappeared for a few days after the sex. I need you to know, before we get into the past, that my time with you has been some of the greatest moments of my life. That night included.” For some fucked up reason, that did make me feel a tiny bit better. It eased the part of me that had been stressing over this multi-relationship and whether it would prove to be too much for the men in my life.

Grayson apparently was okay with the sharing, so now we just had to see if I was okay with the other shit.

“I’ve got a past that would probably turn your therapist’s hair gray,” he continued, “and I won’t be opening up to her anytime soon about it. But today I need to explain some of it to you. To explain who I used to be and how far from that person I am today.”

The nerves racing through my gut had me on the verge of vomiting, but I forced myself to stay calm. I would not fucking interrupt this, no matter what I had to do.

“As you know, my family is part of a large cartel that rules most of Hawaii and, for the last two decades, some of the mainland. I was born into it and, for most of my life, was their reaper. The Maker. The one who existed in the darkness, fulfilling their hits and taking care of anyone who fucked with the family business.”

Fulfilling their hits. That one felt like a very pointed statement.

“I was there that night, Billie,” he rasped, his eyes dropping as he breathed deeply. “But I never knew that was your house or that you had any connection to that job, not until you mentioned your mom’s name. I told you that I’ve never looked into your past, and I meant it. But when you mentioned that fairly unusual name, it triggered a memory. A familiarity. I took off to find an old acquaintance who would be able to remind me why that name felt familiar.”

Bile rose in my throat. “Why were you there that night?”

I mean, the reason was obvious, but I needed him to say it. No confusion. I had to know exactly why Gray had been there that night and what he’d done.

“There was a hit on your mom, Billie.” Short, blunt, earth-shattering statement. My mom, a fucking boring-ass accountant, had had a damn hit on her? Make it make sense.

“Why?” I breathed. “Why would she have a hit? She was a normal housewife and an accountant, if also a somewhat neurotic mother.” Except there had been that conversation between her and Dad. The one that had sounded a lot like she wasn’t exactly normal.

Grayson shook his head. “I don’t ask questions about why. Or at least, I never used to. I got my assignments and carried them out. Think of me as your mindless, cartel killing machine.”

A shiver traced down my spine. I’d always known Grayson was dangerous, but the picture he painted of himself in his past life didn’t gel at all with the man I knew today. “You would never let someone control you like a damn puppet,” I bit out. “I can’t believe it.”

The skin around his eyes tightened as he lifted his gaze to meet mine once more. “I wasn’t completely mindless, but from a very young age, I’d known the punishment for disobeying orders. In the end, it was easier to stop fighting.”

He must have fought eventually, though, because he’d gotten out. Like Rhett, he’d figured out how to change his circumstances in the most difficult of lives.

“So, there was a hit ordered on my mom, and you showed up that night… then what?”