Because Jemma was standing there, her eyes wide and terrified, her skin far too pale, and his ex-partner, Chuck Bradshaw, stood beside her. Chuck—fucking Chuck—had his gun jabbed under Jemma’s jaw.
“Be careful,” Grayson said, the words torn from him. “You’re bruising her.”
“Oh, buddy…” Chuck laughed—the grating laughter that Grayson remembered too well. “Before I’m done, I’ll do a lot more than just bruise her.”
No, you won’t. Grayson dragged his gaze off Jemma. He focused on the bastard who’d dared to hurt her. “You’re supposed to be dead.”
“Why? Because you put three bullets in me and left me in a snow-covered field in Europe? Probably should have come closer. Actually checked to see if I had a pulse.” Chuck shook his head. “But you were under orders, right? Get on the chopper. Get out of there…and leave the traitor behind.”
Yes, he had been under orders. “Let her go.” How the hell had Chuck gotten back into the country? And found me?
“I’m not letting her go. If I did that, then you’d do something stupid, like charge at me. Maybe you’d whip out another knife and stab me again.”
Jemma’s eyes widened, just a bit, but she didn’t make a sound.
“No, that isn’t how this works. I planned it, you see. During the long damn night while I was waiting for her to come home.”
Grayson took a slow, gliding step forward.
“Stop, Gray.” Chuck’s order was given with a cold smile. “Stop right there. You think I don’t know your moves? I do. I worked with you in the field for two years. I know everything about you.”
Think, Grayson, think. “I didn’t know everything about you,” Grayson threw back at him, trying to keep the guy’s attention. Focus on me. Not Jemma. “I didn’t know that you were a traitor, not until the director showed me the proof. You’d been hunting your own team members—”
“Because they sold her out! Gave up Lada like she was nothing!” Chuck’s taunting smile was gone as spittle flew from his mouth. “She was gunned down like an animal. My Lada. I lost her—and I lost everything!”
“You attacked CIA operatives—”
“I took out the fools who should have protected her. I eliminated them.”
“You went rogue. You were a danger to everyone, and you know it. Jesus, man, look at yourself. You have a gun to Jemma’s head. A gun. She’s not CIA. She’s a civilian. What are you doing?”
Chuck blinked. He looked at Grayson, then the gun, then Jemma. He seemed a bit confused, but he muttered, “She’s your everything. Just like Lada was mine. When you lose everything, what else is there to live for?”
No. Terror clawed at Grayson’s chest. “Hurt me. Like you said, I’m the one who left you there. I was the one who stopped you from killing all the agents on your list.” Because Chuck had been wrong. Those men and women hadn’t betrayed him or Lada. Lada had been a double-agent. Her secrets had come tumbling out and no one had been able to keep her safe. She’d betrayed both sides and paid with her life. That was why the leak had occurred. She’d gotten caught selling out both countries.
“I am going to hurt you.” A frown pulled at Chuck’s brow. “That’s the point of all this. You care for her. I think you even love her. I saw the way you look at her. At that damn ice skating rink, I heard you laugh with her.” The gun was still under Jemma’s chin. “So you will hurt when she dies. When she screams and begs and bleeds, you will hurt.”
Grayson shook his head. “Don’t, Chuck. Don’t.”
But Chuck was long past the point of sanity, he knew that. And Grayson prepared to attack. He just needed that gun to move away from Jemma. Sweetheart, I am so fucking sorry. He’d brought this danger to her. She’d given him love and laughter and joy and he’d done this.
He wanted to pull her into his arms. Wanted to shield her from every hurt.
But…he’d been the threat to her, all along. His past. The danger that was his life.
He’d done this.
“Jemma…” Her name was torn from him. His gaze met hers. “I love you.” He needed her to know that. Because, hell, yes, he was ready to take a bullet for her. Ready to die for her and kill for her. Whatever it takes.
She smiled at him. A faint, ripping-my-heart-out smile.
“Isn’t that fucking sweet,” Chuck muttered. “She can know you love her before the real fun starts.” He laughed. “Jemma…I bet she’ll be such a good girl. Doing exactly what I say, right? She’ll—”
“You don’t know Jemma,” Grayson cut in. Jemma is a fighter. Jemma is strong. She took out a killer once before…
But Chuck was still laughing, and when he laughed, he moved the gun away from her jaw, just one inch. One precious inch. “Sure I know her. Delicate little chocolatier. Everyone in town told me how sweet she was. Good old Jemma White—”
Grayson lunged forward.
But Jemma had moved, too. She’d whipped her body to the side and driven her fist into the guy’s right shoulder—the shoulder Grayson’s knife throw had injured the other night.
Chuck howled in pain and he staggered back. Then his face twisted with fury as he drove at Jemma.