Page 40 of Broken Strings

I shiver in his arms, trying to process this confession. Grayson has always been so gentle, so loving. But for six years…he wasn't Grayson. He was Priest, a man forged from pain and loss and the brutality he endured. If he used that to find his way back to me…can I really blame him? And if parts of that man linger even now, will I love him any less?

The answer bubbles up from the depths of my soul, immediate and resolute.No. God no.Because if he's changed, so have I. We had to change to endure and survive. And because we changed, we're here now. We're together again.

I can love this side of him as fiercely as I love every other facet of him. I think I already do. I've seen glimpses of this side of him since he returned. This man is fierce and unrelenting. His love is wild and unrestrained. And even when he's on his knees, bloodied and bruised, that man remains unbroken. He's the part of Grayson that's left when everything else is stripped away. He's his soul. It's primal and raw and powerful. And it loves so fiercely that not even torture could strip me from him.

Yes, I can love this side of him. As wildly as he loves me.

"You don't have to be afraid of me, Mina," he whispers, misinterpreting my silence. "I will never hurt you or Brinley. I'd rip my own fucking heart out first."

I crawl deeper into his lap, pressing my devotion into his skin. "I'm not afraid," I breathe. "I'm never afraid of you."

He groans, a beautifully broken sound, as I wrap my legs around his waist. His cock nudges against my folds, hard andinsistent. But I'm slick and ready, eager for him. Always eager for him.

We rock together, kissing, touching, as desperate for one another as ever. He lifts me up, higher and higher, his hands reverent against my skin, his mouth adoring against mine as he fucks me like he's never going to stop. Like he can't stop.

And when we fall, we fall together, gasping and trembling, locked together in ecstasy, with words of love echoing around us.

"I know what comes next," he whispers as the sweat cools on our bodies, his lips trailing along my shoulder.

"What?"

"We call Riley."

I tip my head back to look at him, confused.

"We have plans to make, baby. A whole lot of fucking plans."

Chapter Thirteen

Priest

"You want to do what?" Riley practically shouts, her eyes bugging out of her head as she paces back and forth across her office, her heels clicking against the hardwood.

"I want to—"

She whirls on me, cutting me off. "I heard you the first time," she mutters, exasperated. "I just wanted to be wrong."

"Yeah, well, you aren't." I strum my fingers against my leg, staring at her. "Can you make it happen or not?"

She plants her hands on her hips, scowling down at me. "Of course I can make it happen, Priest. But are you sure? I mean, once you do this, there's no going back." Her gaze flits to Mina, who is seated beside me, her fingers laced through mine. "It'll change everything."

"We're aware," I say, answering for both of us. We've discussed it at length over the last week, considering it carefully from every angle. We've even talked it through with a goddamn shrink, trying to make sure we know exactly what the fuck we're about to get ourselves into. And despite all of that…we still want to do this.

Back is the last goddamn place we want to go. I've spent the last six years chasing my past. She's spent them clinging to the ghosts of hers. Now, we finally have a chance to move forward.

We're ready. Christ, we're more than ready.

"Let's do it then," Riley mutters, throwing her hands up, seeming frazzled in a way she never has before now. She's always been unflappable to me, completely cool no matter what we've thrown at her since I joined Winter's band. But I guess even she has her limits. "Let's just pretend you died in Mexico and she's marrying Priest Alcalde, Winter's crazy new guitarist. Why not?"

"It's the best way to protect our daughter," I murmur, earning a nod from Mina. If we tell the world the truth, we'll start a media frenzy unlike anything we've ever seen before. They'll be camped outside the goddamn door morning, noon, and night, hounding us for every little detail about our lives and what we went through. We'll be forced to face it over and over again whether we want to face it or not. And so will Brinley.

There are things she shouldn't have to know, things she shouldn't have to go through just so our family ends up together. If we can protect her from that, we owe it to her to do that.

One day, when she's old enough, we'll tell her everything. She deserves the truth. But right now, she's a five-year-old little girl. And she also deserves every chance to be a little girl. If I have to be Priest Alcalde so my daughter has the opportunity to life her life without cameras being thrust into her face while she's asked intrusive fucking questions about what it's like to have her daddy come back from the dead, then that's what the fuck I'll do. I was him for six years. I can be him as long as it takes to keep my wife and daughter safe.

The people who matter will know the truth. At the end of the day, that's all I need. It's all Mina needs, too. We know who we are. We know what we want. Doesn't matter what name the rest of the world calls me. Behind closed doors, I'll always be Grayson—her Grayson. And she and Brinley will be my fucking world, exactly the way they were meant to be all along.

Lionel Cordova has taken enough from us. He can keep the past and the pain. We have the future. And we get to make it together. He'll never get to take that from us, never get to interfere again. At the end of the day, it doesn't matter what goddamn name the world calls me. I'll still belong to Mina and Brinley. They'll still belong to me. And that motherfucker will still be six feet under, unable to take a single goddamn thing from us ever again.