His Trouble Maker

Chapter 102

JESSICA

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After Theo and Pierce left this morning to search for information about the pack, Grayson was just quiet beside

me. | think he’s thinking a lot of things as

much as | do.

The silence between us wasn’t uncomfortable. Not exactly.

He kept glancing atlike he wanted to say something-but didn’t. His eyes were a little too alert, like he was

trying to studyinstead of look at me. | hated that | could tell the difference now.

| pulled my knees up to my chest and rested my chin there. He was sitting in the chair across from me, hands

clasped like he needed to ground himself.

Maybe | should've said something. | don’t know. What do you say to your lover after admitting you've been

imprinted by someone else? | must have

cheated on him as well.

“What is our plan now?” | asked, making my voice not crumble. | still feel so awful about a lot of things.

But Grayson is Grayson.

He will not tellplans not because he doesn’t trustbut because he doesn’t want to burdenwith it. But

| wasn’t part of what he was supposed

to carry anymore.

He didn’t answer right away. Just shifted in the chair until he was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, gaze

heavy on me. Then-quietly, gently-he reached out and touched my cheek. Just the backs of his fingers, brushing

like I might vanish if he pressed too hard.

“The plan,” he whispered, voice rough but low, “is for you to rest, baby.”

| almost closed my eyes at the sound of that word. Baby.

“I'm well rested enough,” | murmured, even though | wasn’t.

Grayson frowned, thumb still resting at the edge of my jaw. “Then rest smore.”

“You can’t keepwrapped in a blanket forever.”

His hand dropped to my shoulder, warm and grounding. He leaned in, just close enough for his forehead to

almost brush mine.“If | could, | would,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I'd keep you somewhere safe.

Somewhere quiet. Far away from all of this.”

“You mean far away from me,” | said before | could stop myself. And immediately wished I had.

“That's not what | meant,” he said, and I hated how quiet it cout.

“Grayson. You don’t have to protectfrom my own guilt. You don’t have to keep pretending I didn’t just...” |

trailed off, voice cracking, eyes suddenly burning. “It chose me. That bond. It picked him. And | let it happen.”

“You didn’t let it happen,” he said, firm now.

“I didn’t stop it,” | said, and something insidefinally trembled hard enough to reach the surface. “I felt it click

into place and I didn’t fight it. Not fast enough, Not hard enough. And maybe I didn’t even want to.”

His fingers curled at my shoulder, tightening just enough to makefeel the shape of his hand. Just enough to

groundin the present, when my brain wanted to pullbackward, deeper into the moment everything went

wrong.

| wasn’t crying yet. But | felt like | was about to.

Grayson leaned back a fraction, just enough to see my face. His expression was unreadable in that way that

made it worse-like he was swallowing his

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Chapter 102

own grief just to keep mine from growing.

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“If I could take it from you,” he said, slow and raw, “the weight of it, the bond, the guilt-you know | would. I'd

burn every rule the gods made for us if it

meant keeping you.”

| closed my eyes.

“I don’t want to be kept,” | murmured. “Not like this. Not if it means you hate yourself for staying.”

There was a pause. A long, aching beat where | could feel him choosing what not to say.

Then: “I don’t hate myself for staying.”

| opened my eyes. He looked wrecked. Pale. Hollowed out in the spaces where hope used to live.

“I hate that you think I should go.”

| blinked. My mouth opened, but nothing cout. Because | didn’t know what to do with that truth. I didn’t

know how to hold it without making it

worse.

And maybe he knew that, because he let out a shaky breath, thumb brushing once across my shoulder before

falling away.

Then he stood. Slowly. Like something hurt. And maybe it did.

“I'll be downstairs,” he said. “Just... if you want me.”

If.

I've ruined us, haven't I?

| stare at the door he just walked through, and a sob slips from my lips before I can stop it.

I want to run to him.

But I'm scared he’ll look atthe sway he did this morning-like he’s memorizingin case he doesn’t get

to keep me.

The whole afternoon, | just lay in my bed, curled up small like that might make the sheasier to hold.

Sometimes | think about going downstairs. Just to see him. Just to sit near him, even if we don’t talk. Even if he

won't look at me.

Sometimes | stand up. | take a few steps toward the door. | reach for the handle. But | never make it past the

threshold.

It was almost lunchtwhen | heard the floor creak. Instead of calling my name, like he always does, my eyes

widened when he grasped my jaw in one

hand and undid the button of his jeans.

“Grayson-"

He leaned in, forehead nearly touching mine, breathing, like he'd just cback from war.

“You wanted space,” he said. “So | gave it to you. But don’t think for a second | forgot what's mine.”

Grayson pulledcloser again and slipped his hand from my chin to my throat, his mouth against my ear. “You

want to know why Riot can’t have you

Jess?”

| swallowed hard, desperate to breathe but unable to. Grayson asked a question and | want to answer but | don’t

think even my brain is functioning because of whatever | am feeling. Suddenly, it feels like everything inside me

is on fire.

“Drop to your knees and askwhy.”

And so | dropped to my knees and looked up to see Grayson watching me. There's something different about

him. Something feral or hurt. Like he tried

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Chapter 102

to tit down but failed to do so.

“Ask me,” he said again, softer now. Which made it worse. Which made it meaner.

| swallowed hard, throat dry and voice shaky. “Why?”

“Why what?” His tone was cold. Taut. Dangerous.

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My knees pressed harder into the bed. “Why are you doing this? Why do you still want me? Why do you look at