I felt safe. Protected.
He inhaled, eyes searching my face for something. Then he crushed his lips against mine. His palm cradling my face, his hand on my back pushing me closer. He kissed me with a devotion I felt in my bones.
When he pulled back, I was dizzy. Our breaths heated the small space between our heads.
“I don’t actually knowhowto fake a death,” I admitted.
He dragged his thumb across my lips, a knowing smile on his face, as if he knew something I didn’t.
“It’s been almost an hour,” he said, and stepped back, but not before encircling my hand in his. “The guys should be finished cleaning.”
Still, we went into the maze to double-check. Grim’s hand in mine was a welcome heat in the cold. The maze was spotless, the only sign that something might have gone awry the occasional protruding leaf.
“Is it done?” Grayson’s voice carried into the hedge maze. My hand still in Grim’s, we walked back out to find my brother.
My brother raked his hands through his rose gold hair, his dress shirt unbuttoned at the top. When he saw us, he continued.
“I can’t hold them off any longer. Story is distracting them long enough for me to warn you.”
“The place is clean,” Grim said. “No one will ever know.”
Grayson visibly relaxed. “Okay.” He exhaled. “Good. Well…” He glanced between Grim and me warily, before landing back on Grim. “You should still get going.”
“We will,” he said. “But first, I’m calling in your debt, Crowne.”
Grayson turned his attention to me, brows pinched. My lips parted, because I didn’t know what Grim was thinking either.
“Gemma wants to die,” Grim continued. “We need your help.”
Too many emotions flashed through my brother’s face—anger, despair, anger again. He opened and closed his fists. Grim knew what he was doing by saying it that way, and he probably did it to get back at me for the way I told him earlier.
I elbowed Grim. “That sounded so fucking dramatic. I don’t want to die for real. I want to fake my death. I want to be free, Gray.”
Grayson stared at me for a long time, and I could see the words in his eyes. We’d never had a chance to be siblings. We lived in a home where emotions were considered uncouth. The way we bonded had been backstabbing. Abigail and Grayson had got out, and they’d hoped the same for me. Maybe then we could be a real family.
But I was asking for an out.
That future dissolving as quickly as the hope for it came.
On a deep exhale, Grayson turned to Grim. “I don’t see what I can do.”
“The press,” I said, sensing what Grim had in mind. “Tell them I overdosed. Tell them I was troubled. Make them believe it. Give them something juicy—and believable—enough that they don’t look deeper into my death.”
His brow cinched, mouth twisted in a grimace. “I’m not going to say that about you.”
I grabbed his hands in mine. “Please. You dissolved myengagement because you wanted me to be free. Now let me.”
The groove in his brow deepened. “This is what you want? Truly?”
For the first time in my life, I knew who I was. I knew what I wanted. I could answer the question that had plagued me ever since Abigail asked it.What do I want?
“Yes,” I said. “I want this.”
He searched my eyes, looking for the lie. When he didn’t find it, he released another exhale. “Fine. I’ll handle the press. I’ll get you out of this world in print, but I don’t see how any of this matters if we have nothing to put in a casket.”
I released Grayson’s hands, stepping back.Right, that’s kind of an important piece of the puzzle.
“We have a guy that can fake an autopsy,” Grim said.
