Guarding Grayson Read Online Free Page B
Author: Cathryn Cade
through his tee.
"Sit," she ordered. Gray found himself shoved down onto the sofa with a force that sent it rocking back against the wall.
He stared up at her, his mouth open. What the hell? Brynne had never been that strong.
Didn't matter, he'd had enough. He canted his hips enough to dig in his jeans pocket for his phone, and pulled it out. She wouldn't leave, he was calling the cops. The local sheriff did not mess around. Then he’d get past her, because a little slip of a woman was not pushing him around.
He hit the button for 911 and stood again, glaring at her. "You won't leave, I'm not gonna man-handle you. Don't need another assault charge on my record."
"911, what is your emergency?" asked a calm voice.
"I need—" Gray's voice broke off with a choke as his phone twisted from his grasp and flew through the air, into Brynne's hand. She stared at it, her head cocked to the side in that weird way, almost as if she was listening to something only she could hear.
"911, what is your emergency?" the voice repeated, faintly.
"There is no emergency," Brynne monotoned. "Sorry to have disturbed you."
She peered at the phone. It made a strange popping sound and went silent.
Gray came off the couch. "You ... how did you do that? Gimme back my phone. What the hell is going on here ?"
His voice rose with each word until he was nearly shouting, looming over her with his hands clawed, ready to do ... something.
She tipped her head back and looked up at him. "I am here to protect you. That is what is going on here, Gray-son Stark."
He looked her over—thin, bedraggled, infinitely fragile, like she needed to be in a hospital bed with round-the-clock care … and maybe a burly attendant to make sure she stayed there.
" You? You can't protect yourself, much less me. And you can't stay here."
"Why not?" The phone fell from her hand to the carpet. It bounced and lay silent and dark, mocking Gray with its uselessness, and his own inability to control this situation.
"Because—" because he wasn't sure he could control himself right now.
He was pissed off, he was freaked out, and he was experiencing a whole new level of grief, which pissed him off even more.
His beautiful Brynne was back, had never really been dead after all, but she had completely flipped out. She was exhibiting some form of mental illness. God, that was probably why she'd disappeared in the first place. Her screaming at him that night hadn't been a show of spirit, it had been mental illness manifesting.
But she was also exhibiting some characteristics he could not explain, such as her freakish strength. Despite her frail, back-from-the-dead look, he hadn't been shoved like that since he was up against a drunk biker twice his size.
The front door slamming shut ... that could've been a thunderstorm blowing in across the valley. Southwest storms were much more violent than those in North Idaho. And as for his phone—dead battery ... or something.
Meanwhile, she was waiting, staring at him through her filthy hair, and the smell coming off of her was getting stronger.
"Why can't I stay?" she repeated.
* * *
" Brynne ," said a now familiar voice in her mind. " Brynne. Wake now. Wake. You have arrived. You are with Grayson again. You must greet him."
Brynne blinked, wrinkling her nose in disgust. Her hair was all stuck to her face, and there was a clump of something in front of her eye.
And what was that smell? Euw , it smelled like wet, muddy swimsuits and towels left to dry on the floor instead of laundered. And it was coming off of her ! What was going on? Had she passed out and ended up in the east end of the lake, where it was shallow and swampy?
Then she focused, and her eyes widened in sheer, bewildered joy.
Grayson . Gray stood before her. Tall, broad-shouldered and handsome, his tanned skin and shoulder-length blond hair gilded in the lamplight. But where were they? And why was he scowling at her as if she was something disgusting he'd
"Sit," she ordered. Gray found himself shoved down onto the sofa with a force that sent it rocking back against the wall.
He stared up at her, his mouth open. What the hell? Brynne had never been that strong.
Didn't matter, he'd had enough. He canted his hips enough to dig in his jeans pocket for his phone, and pulled it out. She wouldn't leave, he was calling the cops. The local sheriff did not mess around. Then he’d get past her, because a little slip of a woman was not pushing him around.
He hit the button for 911 and stood again, glaring at her. "You won't leave, I'm not gonna man-handle you. Don't need another assault charge on my record."
"911, what is your emergency?" asked a calm voice.
"I need—" Gray's voice broke off with a choke as his phone twisted from his grasp and flew through the air, into Brynne's hand. She stared at it, her head cocked to the side in that weird way, almost as if she was listening to something only she could hear.
"911, what is your emergency?" the voice repeated, faintly.
"There is no emergency," Brynne monotoned. "Sorry to have disturbed you."
She peered at the phone. It made a strange popping sound and went silent.
Gray came off the couch. "You ... how did you do that? Gimme back my phone. What the hell is going on here ?"
His voice rose with each word until he was nearly shouting, looming over her with his hands clawed, ready to do ... something.
She tipped her head back and looked up at him. "I am here to protect you. That is what is going on here, Gray-son Stark."
He looked her over—thin, bedraggled, infinitely fragile, like she needed to be in a hospital bed with round-the-clock care … and maybe a burly attendant to make sure she stayed there.
" You? You can't protect yourself, much less me. And you can't stay here."
"Why not?" The phone fell from her hand to the carpet. It bounced and lay silent and dark, mocking Gray with its uselessness, and his own inability to control this situation.
"Because—" because he wasn't sure he could control himself right now.
He was pissed off, he was freaked out, and he was experiencing a whole new level of grief, which pissed him off even more.
His beautiful Brynne was back, had never really been dead after all, but she had completely flipped out. She was exhibiting some form of mental illness. God, that was probably why she'd disappeared in the first place. Her screaming at him that night hadn't been a show of spirit, it had been mental illness manifesting.
But she was also exhibiting some characteristics he could not explain, such as her freakish strength. Despite her frail, back-from-the-dead look, he hadn't been shoved like that since he was up against a drunk biker twice his size.
The front door slamming shut ... that could've been a thunderstorm blowing in across the valley. Southwest storms were much more violent than those in North Idaho. And as for his phone—dead battery ... or something.
Meanwhile, she was waiting, staring at him through her filthy hair, and the smell coming off of her was getting stronger.
"Why can't I stay?" she repeated.
* * *
" Brynne ," said a now familiar voice in her mind. " Brynne. Wake now. Wake. You have arrived. You are with Grayson again. You must greet him."
Brynne blinked, wrinkling her nose in disgust. Her hair was all stuck to her face, and there was a clump of something in front of her eye.
And what was that smell? Euw , it smelled like wet, muddy swimsuits and towels left to dry on the floor instead of laundered. And it was coming off of her ! What was going on? Had she passed out and ended up in the east end of the lake, where it was shallow and swampy?
Then she focused, and her eyes widened in sheer, bewildered joy.
Grayson . Gray stood before her. Tall, broad-shouldered and handsome, his tanned skin and shoulder-length blond hair gilded in the lamplight. But where were they? And why was he scowling at her as if she was something disgusting he'd
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