Page 31 of Grayson

“Three bites, sweetheart. Then we’ll stop mothering you for at least thirty seconds.”

Jennifer hadn’t realized how this would affect her. Being home. Being hugged by the women she loved the people she loved. She’d stayed strong for so long. For what? Ego? To prove a point? She hated herself for not trusting them and coming home sooner.

She managed three spoonfuls before emotion closed her throat, but the heat settled into her, convincing her body at last that the journey was over.

For a while, conversation stayed safely ordinary.

“The Sugar Lodge roof is leaking,” Brooke said.

“Only over my desk,” Casey added. Chelsea pointed at Harlow.

“And she lost her keys in a flowerpot,” she snickered, trying to relax the conversation. Ashley had said not to push, not to ask questions.

“I planted them for safekeeping,” Harlow protested. Finley leaned toward Jennifer.

“She watered them twice.” Jennifer laughed, a startled sound that made every woman at the table smile.

“I missed all of you,” she said.

“We missed you louder,” Casey answered.

Then Violet quietly asked whether Grayson would be returning soon. Jennifer looked toward the far end of the cafeteria, where several men stood around a laptop and two radios. Grayson was not among them.

“He and the others stayed to find, to find him,” she said with a clenched jaw.

“I need to tell you what happened,” Jennifer said. Erica covered her hand with both of hers.

“You don’t owe us the story tonight.”

“Or ever,” Violet added. Jennifer looked around the table.

“If I don’t say it now, he keeps owning the silence.” Finley’s expression hardened.

“Then say only what you choose.”

“We’ll listen,” Brooke told her. “We won’t interrupt.” Casey glanced toward the men in the corner.

“And if you need us to stop, you say the word.” Jennifer drew a careful breath.

“Stay close,” she said.

“We’re not going anywhere,” Erica promised.

“His name is Kyle Lacroix,” Jennifer said. The name landed hard in the warm room. “He found me after months of watching the routes I used, the contacts I trusted, and the shelters where women disappeared from his reach.” Chelsea’s face went still.

“He followed you that long?”

“Longer than I knew. I thought I’d escaped after, after the attack in the alley. I thought he was one of those inside the nightclub that burned down. He wasn’t there that night. Somehow, he knew it was me.” Harlow reached across the table.

“Did he hurt anyone else to get to you?” Jennifer swallowed.

“He tried. That’s why I kept moving. It’s why I kept working for the agency and saving those women and children. At the time, I didn’t know he was still alive. In truth, I’d nearly forgotten everything about him. It was dark in the alley and I only saw glimpses of him. When he pretended to be a priest, I knew something was familiar about him.” Violet’s voice was quiet and fierce.

“You should never have had to carry that alone.”

Jennifer described the attack without giving it more power than truth required. She talked about how her friend insisted on staying in the club but she left, alone. It was stupid, she knew it but she just wanted out of there. Her friend left later with several other girls. But Jennifer had left alone and the two men followed.

“He wanted me afraid enough to stop,” she said. “For a time, I was. But fear and surrender are not the same thing.” Across the room, Ham and Rush turned, staring at her as if they’d heard every word. Their hands tightened on the back of a chair, and one of the men began typing faster.