Page 17 of Gray’s Surrender

Kane gives me the options without pretending any of them are perfect. My rental has one front door, a narrow alley behind it and no way of knowing how many people Bishop has watching Ransom or anyone connected to Gray. The compound has steel gates, armed brothers and men who understand exactly what they’re protecting. I choose the compound. Gray doesn’t argue, and Tank probably wouldn’t have let me choose otherwise. Kane doubles the watch at the gates and puts brothers on the roads leading in.

Tessa settles Ruby into one of the guest rooms and stays with her. I take the room next door, and Gray uses the empty one across the hall. He checks that Ruby is settled, walks the perimeter himself and speaks to the brothers on watch before he finally comes into my room with a bottle of water and an ice pack wrapped in a towel. He closes the door behind him, and I sit on the edge of the narrow bed while he kneels in front of me.

Gray holds the ice pack against my bruised cheek, careful not to press it against the split in my lip.

“You should’ve told Kane,” I say.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Those men walked into your house because you kept Bishop’s approach to yourself.”

His jaw tightens. “I know.”

“I’m angry at you for putting us at risk.”

“You should be.”

“Stop agreeing like it makes this easier.”

Gray lifts his eyes to mine. “Nothing makes this easier.” He doesn’t defend himself or ask me to make his guilt easier to carry. He only keeps the cold pack steady against my face.

“I left you there,” he says.

“You went to church because your president called.”

“After I kept the reason for that church from him.”

“Yes, you did that.”

His gaze moves over the bruise spreading across my cheek. “And Perdition came at my family.” The words hang between us with no hesitation and no attempt to take it back.

“You tried to push me out this morning.”

“I know.”

“Sex didn’t fix that.”

“I know that too.”

“But you mean this?”

He lowers the ice pack. His thumb settles beneath my chin, careful of my lip.

“They came through my door looking for Ruby and put their hands on you,” he says. “You’re mine to protect now.” The room goes quiet.

“You mean that?”

“Yeah, I do.” The answer is rough enough to be true.

I touch his cheek. “I’m still angry.”

“Stay angry.”

“You might not enjoy it.”

“Probably won’t, but I deserve it.”

I lean forward and kiss him carefully. There’s no hunger in the first touch. Only recognition. Gray cups the back of my neck and kisses me around the injury instead of over it. When we separate, he rests his forehead against mine.