Lessons In Grey: Shadows of Sin, page 39
Malachi watched me for a long time before he stepped up to me and held out his hand.
I took it without hesitation, my eyes burning, my throat closing as he placed his other hand over mine. Grey was leaving. He was leaving and there was nothing anyone could do to change that. “I give you my word, Emily, Greyson will be safe. I will see to it personally, I promise.” He said it in such a way that even God himself would believe him. Nobody in the world, in the universe would ever doubt his word and I almost hated him for it. I didn’t know why, but I did.
I swallowed, the world blurring. I cleared my throat and nodded once. “How long?”
“I don’t know. Until we make sure that he never comes back from the dead again, that’s all I can give you.”
I nodded again, taking my hand from his and turning to Grey. I understood what was about to happen, I did, but that didn’t make it suck any less.
“I have to keep you safe,” he justified.
“I know,” I replied, reaching for his tie. “I know.” I sniffed, blinking, the tears sliding down my face.
Grey slid his hand over my cheek, gently wiping away some of the tears with his thumb. “I will take care of this, I promise.” He looked over. “When are we leaving?”
“Tonight,” Malachi said regretfully. “Azrael and I will be in the car, give you both some time. Emily, it was such a delight to meet you, I hope to have dinner with you soon.”
I nodded, finding his eyes. “You too, Malachi. Thank you.”
He smiled softly. “For what, my dear?”
“For him.”
His smile shifted into something of absolute pride. “Yes, well, I can’t take all the credit.” He took his hat off, revealing his bald head, and bowed. “Until we meet again.”
I smiled, eyes shifting to Azrael whose expression was void of light.
His smile stretched across his face, nearly matching the one etched into his mask. “Until we meet again, little mouse.”
God, he scared the shit out of me.
They both turned, leaving Grey and I to say our goodbyes.
He pulled me into his arms as soon as Malachi and Azrael disappeared from view, and I wrapped my own around his neck, pulling me against him tightly, trying to keep the tears from falling any more than they already had.
This was necessary. We talked at length about it. I understood this as a possibility, I did. This was his job. I would be fine. I didn’t need to see him every second of every day. I would be fine. I was always fine alone, I’d be fine now.
He squeezed me until my ribs started to bend under his grip. He kissed my head, my neck, my ear. “I love you,” he mumbled. “More than falling stars and budding roses. I love you.”
I nodded, leaning back just enough to find his lips. I crushed my mouth against his, sliding my tongue between his lips, tasting him every inch of him, showing him how in love with him I truly was.
I could taste all the words left unsaid as he kissed me. All the moments we had experienced together, the trust, I felt it all. I could feel the electrified butterflies simmer under my skin, settling in my bones. I absorbed them with all that I was.
I didn’t want him to go, but this was what it was to love a criminal.
When I couldn’t breathe anymore, I pulled away from him, our foreheads falling together, our breath mingling in the air between us.
“I love you,” he said, pulling away just enough to meet my eyes. “I love you so very much, Emily. So much. I have never had an anchor in all my years, and now I do. My Snowflake guiding me home. I’ll come back, I promise, and I’ll call you when I can, but I don’t know where I will be or how busy, do you understand me?”
I nodded, already having prepared myself for this. There could be days, weeks perhaps, when I would get nothing more than a text. It wasn’t his fault. “Yes.”
“Good,” he breathed out. “Good.” His eyes fell to my lips, his hands threading back into my hair, holding me in place. “Oh, Snowflake, baby, I love you.”
“I love you too,” I said, doing my best to swallow the tears back, although I was failing miserably. “Please be safe. Please. I know it’s stupid, I know you’ve done dozens of these before, but please, come back.”
He smiled softly. “Dozens, but never have I had a reason to fight like the reason I have now.” He gazed at me like a dreamer looking at the stars. “They’ll keep me safe. Azrael’s different, but he’s still family. He’ll put his life down for mine.”
And he would do the same for Azrael. I had to accept that.
I sniffed, finding his eyes. “Tell me something brilliant,” I whispered.
The corners of his lips lifted, and he nodded as he straightened. He released my face and grabbed my hand, lifting it up, studying my palm before his eyes found mine. “I’ve traveled from sea to sea. I’ve seen every corner of this world, ones so dark you couldn’t see an ounce of light, and ones so bright, it would blind you. I’ve seen things you wouldn’t believe, beautiful things, tragic things, impossible things. Yet nothing in this world could ever compare to what I see when I look at you.” He kissed the palm of my hand gently. “I really am just a madman with a gun.”
I laughed, memorizing his smile, his eyes, his everything. “My Rags.”
He stepped back, letting my hand go to lift his own to either side of him. “Well-dressed and ready to kill. I’ll see you soon, Snowflake.”
I nodded, pulling his jacket tighter around me. “See you soon.”
I held it together until he disappeared around the corner. That’s when my composure failed. That’s when my legs shook so terribly that they gave out.
Jeremy caught me, pulling me back to my feet as I fell into him. “He’s going to be okay,” he said, holding me close. “They know what they’re doing. He’ll be okay.”
I clung onto him, my heart shattering in a million different ways. I understood that this was part of the job, but it fucking hurt like Hell.
42
Emily
January 21st, 2022
It’s been a month.
Since Grey left, I had changed my opinion on learning how to fight, only because it filled up the time.
I started going on runs in the morning with Matthew, shifted to online classes that I took at night, and during the day, Matthew taught me how to fight.
It was painful. I have been sore every day for three weeks, but my body was finally starting to get used to the abuse.
I had given up Redbull and coffee, but I had kept up on my gummy worms, something Jeremy was now addicted to as well.
So addicted that I had to keep my stash in my room so he wouldn’t steal them in the middle of the night.
Yes, Jeremy was now sleeping on my couch. Matthew slept on a cot in the living room, and at night, when everyone was asleep save for me, a new member had joined the ‘Protect Emily’ squad. Some woman by the name of Gwen.
She sat in a car at night and kept an eye on things while we were supposed to be sleeping.
Things really sucked, they did, but I was getting through it. Although I was starting to feel resentment growing within me about what was happening, and I hated that.
I was always supposed to communicate with him about stuff like this. About things that started affecting us, but how could I? He had only called once since leaving, which I thought I had prepared myself for, but now it was the one-month anniversary of his departure, and here I was, bitter.
I was bitter.
I was angry.
I was sad.
I was resentful.
I pushed around my eggs, staring at his name brought up on my phone. The last text he had sent me had been the night of the Charity Event while I had been getting dressed.
Grey: I can’t wait to see you
I wanted to text him. Tell him that I was having issues, but I had done that already. My list of messages was long. I texted him every single day, and all I had gotten was one phone call.
However terrible it sounded, I hoped that there were stronger women out there than me having these struggles. Was it normal? I felt so secure in our relationship, and it wasn’t as if I thought he was cheating, I knew he wasn’t. I wasn’t insecure about that, but this? This was hard. It was so hard.
Rationally I knew he was busy. Working, sleeping, whatever it was they did, along with the time differences.
Irrationally? Irrationally I wanted to punch him for making me feel as if the relationship wasn’t worth it enough to send a two second text.
How hard was it? Just a simple fucking message. Yes, you’re a big bad criminal hunting down a guy you thought was dead that beat the shit out of me but come on. One text?
I glared at my phone, locked it, and slammed it face down on the counter. I didn’t want to be this way. This was why I didn’t fucking deal with this shit. It was messy and complicated, and it made you feel things that didn’t make sense.
“He’s in Ireland right now.”
“God, shut-up, Matthew!” I snapped and shoved away from the table.
Matthew didn’t deserve that, he was genuinely a good person, and we had become good friends, but fuck, come on! Couldn’t he read the room?
My eyes burned as I carried my plate to the kitchen. Why the fuck did Matthew have that update? Why couldn’t I have that update?
“Mrow.”
I looked over, Sirius walking into the kitchen after me. She hadn’t left my side since Louis had sent his men after me. Which I appreciated, but fuck, I couldn’t have even one moment?
I set my plate in the sink and turned on the water, gripping the edge of it as I watched the water attempt to rinse the eggs off my plate.
“You’re allowed to be angry. It’s not easy.”
I dipped my head, closing my eyes, trying to focus on my breathing. I understood that. Rationally, I understood that. I didn’t want to be angry. I didn’t want to have Grey feeling guilty or worried about me feeling like this. I wanted him to focus so he could come back, that’s what I wanted.
This was all just bullshit. All of it.
The elevator dinged and I looked over just as Jeremy appeared. He shoved open the gate, briefcase in hand, his jacket slung over his shoulder. “Evening everyone,” he greeted.
I straightened, turning back to the sink. I rinsed my stuff into the disposal and ran it for a few seconds before shutting it and the water off.
“How was your day?”
“Ask Matthew,” I bit, grabbing a bottle and shoving past him. “I need to use the bathroom and then I’m going to bed.”
“What? I just got home. Ash and Syn are coming over, we’re going to watch a movie.”
“Have fun,” I replied bitterly. I shut the bathroom door behind me and leaned back against it, my heart racing, anger building. “Fuck,” I muttered as the tears filled my eyes. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. I was supposed to be stronger than this. I was supposed to be able to handle this. What was wrong with me that I couldn’t?
I released a shuddering breath and walked over to the sink, ripping open the cabinet.
“Emily?” Jeremy asked through the door.
I stared at all of my medications, my hands shaking, the grip around the bottle tightening. I was supposed to be better than this. I could be better than this.
The muffled sound of my ringtone slid under the door just as my eyes fell to Grey’s razor. Just an everyday razor, sharp and forgotten.
“Em,” Jeremy said again, my ringtone closer. “Em, it’s Grey.”
Tears streamed down my face as I stared at that razor. The need was so fucking overwhelming. It had never been compared to heroin anywhere. Never compared to any kind of drug, I looked, but fuck, it should have been.
Right now, all I could focus on was the relief it would bring me. Just once. One time couldn’t hurt. I just needed to get back on track, refocus my mind. One time, just a little sharp pain and everything would be okay again.
“Emily.”
I lifted my hand, watching those trembling fingers reach for the razor.
I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to be like this. I didn’t want to feel like this. It was wrong. All of this was so fucking wrong. We discussed it. We talked about it. Why couldn’t I fucking stop? What right did I have to be this angry?
“Em?”
I wrapped my hand around my anti-depressants instead, setting the bottle in the sink as I struggled to get the cap open. “Come on,” I muttered.
“Emily, Grey is calling, I know you can hear me.”
“Shut-up, Jeremy!” I snapped, jerking the lid off. I poured a few in my hand and dumped them into my mouth, using the alcohol to wash it down.
I winced at the taste, gasping for air when I finally pulled the bottle away and shut the cabinet, finding my eyes in the reflection.
There was such anger and pain there. Red around the irises. See, I could be better. I was better.
Everything was fine.
“Emily.”
I growled under my breath and stormed towards the door only to stop with my hand on the doorknob.
My phone was still ringing.
Grey was on the other end, probably hoping for a happy, excited me. He would tell me something poetic about how much he loved and missed me and what would I do? Be short with him? Snap? Yell? Start an argument he wouldn’t have time to even finish, leaving us both feeling shitty. And then he would go out, guns blazing, angry at the world, at me, and he would make a mistake, and he would get shot, all because I couldn’t keep my fucking emotions in check.
I couldn’t do that to him.
I couldn’t put him in that position, it wasn’t fair.
I pressed my forehead against the door, looking down at my right palm, the feeling of his lips so prevalent, it made me want to scream.
The ringing finally stopped, and the tears poured down my face as the guilt flooded through me. Fuck.
Jeremy was quiet a moment. “Why don’t you want to answer the phone?” he asked quietly, as if he knew I was standing right there.
I sniffed and turned my back to the door, sliding down to the floor with a thump. What was fucking wrong with me? I was delusional. I didn’t need to be on anti-depressants, I needed to be on psych medication. “I’m going to yell at him,” I confessed, staring at the shower across from me. “He doesn’t deserve that.”
There was a shuffling and then I heard him sit directly behind me. “You don’t deserve to hold that in.”
I could almost feel the ghost of his back leaning against mine as I worked my jaw, working the bottle between my hands. “Why should I be allowed to be angry at him for doing exactly what he said he’d do? He’s protecting me. He’s doing his job. We talked about him leaving on missions. I understood what it meant. I chose this.”
Jeremy sighed. “Yeah, Em, but talking about it and going through it are two different things. Trust me. You’re allowed to be angry, and you’re allowed to yell at him for it, but you need to know that he’s allowed to get frustrated that you’re angry about it too. That’s how relationships work. You can’t just ignore him though. He's going to think something is wrong.”
“He trusts me.”
“He trusted you last time too, remember?”
Yes, he did, and that wasn’t my fault. I couldn’t remember the fact that I hadn’t called him or told him or anything like that. I had been reliving the same day over and over again for a week and a half. “You both are living with me, there’s no reason for him to worry that something’s going to happen.”
Jeremy was quiet a moment. “So, you’re just not going to talk to him until he returns? Because if that’s your plan, you need to remember that it could be six months until he gets back. There are no timelines on this type of thing.”
I glanced at the door. “I thought Jack was supposed to be an excellent tracker. I thought Azrael was a psychopath. What’s the point of having such an elite family if they can’t find one fucking guy?”
Jeremy sighed. “Louis isn’t just any guy, Emily, he’s one of the more dangerous people Malachi has gone after. They thought they had killed him years ago, which means that he’s had all this time to rebuild his people and come up with a plan to take down Malachi and his son.”
I glared at the bottle. “Why is he targeting me and Grey?”
He tapped the floor a few times. “I don’t know.” He paused. “Maybe that was a Malachi and Grey mission. It’s hard to keep track. Maybe he sees Grey as the weaker of the members and figured taking him out first would be a good step.”
“Well, that’s just stupid,” I muttered. “You always take out the strongest first.”
He paused again and I could only imagine the face he was making at my perfectly reasonable response. “Emily, you have to talk to him.”
My glare softened, the pain and guilt trickling through me. I took a painful gulp of alcohol and shook my head. “I can’t.” I couldn’t knowingly make him feel horrible about the decision we both made. I couldn’t.
Jeremy’s phone started ringing and I looked up, my heart thudding.
“I have to answer it.”
The world blurred around me, and when I didn’t respond, he answered. “Hello?”
My heart thudded as I pressed myself into the door, straining to hear his voice.
“She doesn’t want to talk to you right now,” he said quietly. “Sorry, man.”
I covered my mouth with my hand, trying to stifle the crying. This was why I didn’t want to be in any sort of relationship. This…this bullshit. It hurt too much.
“It’s not my place, Greyson.”
I tipped the bottle back again, gulping down, the alcohol burning all the way down. I drank until my mind started to buzz.
“She knows that—”
I pulled the bottle away, wiping my sleeve across my mouth, gasping for air.
“Greyson, it isn’t my place. I’m sorry. You just have to wait.”
He was quiet a moment before he sighed. “Emily, did you take any pills? Have you hurt yourself?”
