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18
Alaric
Monroe is quiet for the rest of the drive to her grandmother's nursing home. I can tell she's nervous about me meeting her only relative, and I understand why. She's seen me do some fucked-up shit, and now she has to introduce me to the person who means most to her in the world. It might be a shit show... so I need to be on my best behavior.
We pull up in the posh driveway of the home. It's on a large piece of land with a large stone mansion covered in ivy. The grounds are well-maintained, and the seniors walking around are wearing big, pleased smiles. As Monroe and I get out of the car, one of their smiles grows bigger and bigger.
"Monroe!" An old lady waves us over enthusiastically. She's sitting by a pond with a friend who's already wheeling away. "Over here, honey!"
Monroe flies forward while I inspect her grandmother. The woman has a calm, quiet confidence to her I like. She seems like the quintessential grandmother I never had. The kind that may be vulnerable in body, but is a force to be reckoned with in any other way. I decide I like her on the spot.
Watching as Monroe hugs her tightly, I grin at the woman. "Hello, Mrs. Smythe. My name is Alaric."
"Alaric?" She nods, kissing her granddaughter's cheek and clinging to her hand as Monroe pulls away. "What an unusual name, and such an unusual man, too. You know, you're the first one she's brought over to see me."
"Gram!" Monroe flushes deeply, and I smirk, reveling in the fact that she didn't bring me over. I forced myself into Monroe's life, after all. And she fucking loves it.
"I expect nothing less of her. She's very picky," I smirk. "It took me quite a while to convince her I was a stand-up guy. Well... sometimes I wonder if I still haven'tquiteconvinced her."
Mrs. Smythe laughs. "I know just how stubborn she can be. I did look after her until she was three years old."
I nod, ignoring Monroe's death glare in my direction. She wants me to stop asking all these prying questions and playing a game, but we have to, for her grandma's sake. I don't want to know how she'd react if she knew the truth...
"Gram, is everything going well here? They taking good care of you?" Monroe interrupts.
"For the most part." Her grandmother smiles. "There is one lady who I think is stealing my socks."
"Oh." I can tell Monroe is holding back a giggle. "Which one is it? I'll talk to her."
"The one with the pretty purple hair." Mrs. Smythe nods toward the entrance of the building where two nurses are watching the seniors. "Her name is Faye."
Monroe rushes in the direction of the nurse while her grandma turns to face me with a smug smile.
"Stealing socks, huh?" I tease her.
She winks and pulls up the leg of her trousers to reveal a pair of striped pink and white socks. "Count all my pairs every night. Not one missing so far."
"Sneaky." I chuckle. "You wanted to talk to me alone."
"Of course." She smiles back. "I need to find out if you're worthy of my granddaughter."
"Well, fire away," I respond. "Ask me anything you want."
"Well, all right. Say," she goes on, eyes glittering with mischief. "I couldn't help but notice... is that a red bracelet around your wrist?"
Sharply, my eyes find hers. "Indeed it is."
I can't say more than that. Can't risk her asking more questions—but this one alone has me sweating. How could she know the significance of the red ribbon tied around my wrist? Unless... unlessshe's part of it, too.
"Well, first of all, I think you should call me Ida." She grins before shakily pulling back her sleeve to reveal a green ribbon tied around it. "They make me wear it, even now."
I pale. "You work... for the Lombardis?"
"I did once upon a time." She nods gravely. "I helped with their accounting. I had to serve a sentence when Monroe was a toddler. That's why she was stuck with that awful stepfather of hers."
"I have heard some horrible stuff," I mutter. "I couldn't imagine why she wasn't living with you."
Ida nods. "I only got back a few years ago, and now I live here. And I know how much Monroe is paying for me to stay here, and I feel truly guilty."
