It’s an honest answer. Most men would either downplay the moment, terrified, or overblow it, seeped in insecurities. Grayson cannot experience the emotional pull, but he’s aware of it—he knows it exists between us.
I let my hand drift to his back, run my fingers over the tattooed keyhole between his shoulder blades, outlining the patterns and numbers. I’m fascinated by him, too. I was the first moment I saw him.
I skim my nails throu
gh his hair, feeling the scars that are now hidden. “How did it happen?” The question slips out, thoughtless.
And just as quickly, Grayson’s open expression shutters. I read the pain behind his eyes before he shifts his gaze to the wall clock. “That’s another session, doc.”
Then his comforting weight is gone. He grabs the T-shirt off the floor and offers it to me. I use it to drape myself as I head to the office bathroom, snatching my blouse along the way. When I reemerge, Grayson is again dressed in the security uniform and standing in front of the filing cabinet.
A thought flickers through my mind; a question of whether this is the first time Grayson sneaked into my office.
Doubt is a terrible affliction.
“Is there something you need?” I ask as I gather my skirt and underwear from their discarded location. I finish dressing, forcefully pushing doubts aside.
“Yes. I need you inside Nelson’s head,” he says, turning to face me. “You’re already close to him. I can handle Foster.”
“Fine. But I should go.” I check my phone. “If agents are watching, anything longer than two hours is questionable.”
Grayson inclines his head, watching me closely. He stalks toward me, the darkened office concealing his features until he’s right before me. “Stay close to him, but if he gives you any proof that he’s the copycat and that he’s becoming unhinged, leave. Get far away.”
“I can handle myself.”
“I know you can.” He takes the phone from me and sets it aside on the desk. “I’m not worried about your actions. I’m worried about what I’ll do.”
I squint up at him. I hadn’t considered Grayson’s reaction to a threat against me personally. He’s never before had to confront an emotional overload. If Nelson hurt me…what would Grayson be capable of? What would that do to him?
“I understand,” I say.
He grasps my neck, his thumb searching out the pulse of my heartbeat. “Sometimes the past is just the past, London. It doesn’t have any bearing on us now.”
This is in response to my question earlier, and my distant behavior now. Grayson may only be able to impersonate feelings, to blend into society, but that intense study into it makes him a master at deciphering others’ emotions.
I’ve invested countless hours into the study, also. I know that what I glimpsed in the therapy room signifies importance—some tie to his past that he’s desperate to sever.
For now, I nod against his hand, then move into his arms, savoring the last seconds I have with him.
We all have secrets, and I can’t judge too harshly. I’m keeping certain truths from him. Some variations on our trap, and my research into his past. I’ve made a decision that could crumble our already unstable foundation. As his significant other, my actions are considered a betrayal. As his psychologist, that betrayal is far more offensive. This could do irrevocable damage not only to him—but also to us.
But if he won’t give me the answers, I now know where I need to go to find them.
To his homeland. To the one woman who gave Grayson this dark life.
His mother.
13
Russian Roulette
Grayson
To avoid suspicion, I use the facilities at a nearby park to change into my regular street clothes. Then I discard the stolen uniform into a trash bin. I’ve missed the scheduled bus to Portland by less than fifteen minutes. It’s a greater risk, but instead of waiting half an hour in the city where my face is best known for the next bus, I hail a cab.
The clear partition between the driver and me feels foreboding. Reminiscent of the day the police stormed my apartment with a search warrant and hauled me into a squad car. Good times.
Out of habit, I pick up on little details of the driver’s life that’s sporadically placed around the taxi.