Destroyed Destiny (Crowne Point 4)

Every clue we checked, every lead we followed, it was like someone had already been there. One step ahead of us.

Was it possible his grandfather had already found it? This was all for nothing?

I reached for Grayson’s hand and he pulled back like I was made of mold. Silence stretched. The perpetual sucker in his mouth evident by the stem between his lips.

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing with savage interest. “Why the tears?”

I swiped my cheeks furiously, trying to hide them. I knew how much this hurt Grayson and I didn’t want to add to that hurt.

He gripped my wrist, stopping me and yanking me close. He looked at my wet hands, jaw clenched. “Are you trying to fucking hide this? What the fuck did he do? Why are you crying?”

My shoulders fell with my head. “She kicked, Grayson. She kicked.”

For a moment, the iron wall Grayson had erected fell. I saw everything. The anger, the anguish, the joy. It bled from his face, into his bruising grip.

Then pain flashed in his eyes, stark and violent. Grayson pressed me hard against the window, his free hand found my stomach. “Did he feel it?”

I nodded, shame flooding my body.

He dug his fingers into my flesh. “That belongs to me.”

“I know,” I whispered.

His nostrils flared at my words, but the muscle in his jaw feathered. As if he liked my submission, but hated the reason for it.

He pressed me deeper into the cold glass, knee between my legs. “You gave something away that didn’t belong to you.”

I swallowed. “I know.”

“How are you going to make up for it, Snitch?”

He was angry and cold, a thin fraying wire.

In the background, the spray of water could be heard—West getting into the shower.

“I’ll do anything,” I said. I would do that, I would give him anything to show I belonged to him and only him.

He gripped my chin, yanking my neck back. “Well, isn’t that a fucking lie? You’re getting pretty good at those, wife.”

He didn’t call me little wife.

I missed it. Ached for it.

Somehow we’d found ourselves fighting for the same team, but on opposite sides of the war. I loved him, he loved me, but like he’d said, It means we love each other madly. It means we’re soulmates. It means we’re always on the same side, even when we’re not.

“He’s right, you know. My family isn’t worth it.”

“But you are,” I said.

He looked away. “You’re so goddamn stubborn.”

I scoffed. “Pot meet kettle.”

At my scoff, he pressed into my pussy with his knee—hard. His hand spanned the length of my jaw, thrusting his thumb into my mouth, dragging along my lips and teeth as he rubbed my pussy with his knee. He stared at my lips as gasps fell from them.

Bored.

Like he was doing something routine.