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Heading back to his shed, I take a tin of paint, some sandpaper and some wood varnish. I pour the paint over the bloodstain, before cleaning it up again, and instead of a red tinge on the floor, what’s left is a blue one that no one would suspect.
If only my next job could be so easy.
The living room is a blood bath, the hardwood floor’s coated with blood, and red handprints are all up the wall from where he tried to fight back. The carving knife is still where I dropped it, his blood dripping from its tip. I take it to the kitchen and place it in the sink, letting the cold water run from the faucet over my stinging hands and the blade. The water turns red, and I watch it disappear down the drain until it turns clear. The walls are first, and I scrub them with bleach before I use the tin of white paint, that Mama keeps in the basement to touch up the walls, to cover over the now pinkish stains.
The coffee table is broken, so I take that out to the garage. I roll the rug up from the fireplace and take that out too. Then filling up a bowl, I get to work on the floors. Scrubbing them to the best of my ability, and then sanding the places that need attention with the sandpaper I took from the shed. The new varnish in here will still match. It’s only been a few weeks since he made Mama re-varnish downstairs.
I step back to assess the area. Aside from the wet paint marks on the wall, and the slightly shinier patches on the floor, you would never know what had happened here tonight.
No one will, ever.
I turn out the lights and head upstairs, stopping when I pass their bedroom to check in on Mama. She’s sound asleep, The bruise on her cheek purple and angry looking. I go to her wash basket and take out the clothes that she’d been wearing today. Tomorrow I’ll burn them, along with what I’m wearing now and the rug.
“He can’t hurt us now,” I whisper to her as I kiss her on the cheek. Then I go for a shower to wash the final traces of him out of our lives.
It’s been a week since we put the point out to everyone that me and Grimm are only for each other now. My little speech must have worked because all the little hoes down here seem petrified of me. They should be.
I’m locking up the garage when Grimm’s bike pulls up in the yard, he looks so damn hot when he rides, and before he has the chance to dismount, I run across the yard, jump on his tank and wrap my legs around him.
“Pleased to see me?” I whisper, looking down between our bodies at the bulge in his jeans. He answers me by grabbing my waist and forcing me to grind against it.
“Put her down, Grimm.” Thorne shakes his head as he passes us to head inside.
“Take me home and fuck me.” I readjust Grimm’s fringe to the way I like it.
“Got to speak to Prez first, you wanna grab a drink while you wait for me?”
“Sure,” I shrug, leaping off him. I forget Grimm has club commitments sometimes, and that his world doesn’t just revolve around me.
He tugs me back and kisses me, before taking my hand and leading me through the foyer. “You wanna head in there?” His eyes gesture to the small bar room opposite the member's lounge. The one that Maddy, Gracie, and Ella have claimed as their own now. I shake my head, I’d much rather throw insults at Squealer or talk engines with Storm than listen to Ella moan about decaffeinated coffee or hear Grace gush about her charity work.
“I hear ya,” Grimm smirks, guiding me through to the main bar. Mel is serving today and she snarls when she sees us together. She really is a bitter bitch, anyone can see how desperate she is to be someone’s old lady. So I purposely fake her a smile that says, ‘eyes off what’s mine, bitch’.
Grimm gives Storm a nod across the room. Which I know is a signal for him to keep an eye on me and because I’m in a good mood, I let it go and smile sweetly at Grimm when he presses a kiss to my cheek and goes to find Prez.
I roll myself a joint while I wait for him, and Paige, one of the club whores takes the stool beside me. She’s a pretty girl, with a unique sense of style, and I make time for her because she isn’t fake like the others.
Licking along the rizla, I admire my work before lighting the end and just as I’m about to take a long draw, Grimm snatches it from my mouth and places it between his own lips.
“Shit’s bad for ya,” he warns me, gripping it with his teeth.
He takes a long toke, then exhales through his nostrils, clouding my face with smoke. I stand up and take the joint from between his lips, turning it around and filling my lungs before I stretch up on my toes and release the smoke directly into Grimm's mouth.
“You guys are so fuckin’ hot.” Paige’s voice reminds me that there are other people in the room.
“Come on, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can go check on El,” Nyx taps Grimm on his shoulder.
“Where you going now?” I look at Grimm, wondering how much longer it’s gonna take before I finally get to have him to myself.
“Church, I won't be long, and I’m taking this with me.” He takes the blunt from between my fingers and dangles it in his mouth, before following Nyx outside.
Prez isn’t far behind them and I can tell from the tension in his face that something’s going down. The place is suddenly a lot quieter with all the brothers gone. Only whores, hangouts and little old me left behind.
I ask Paige how Abby’s doing, and she tells me she's been staying off the compound at Grace and Brax’s place. It explains why she wasn’t there when I called by her cabin to check in the other day. Paige chats a little about herself to me too. She doesn’t feel like she fits in with the other hangouts, and I can see why. The girl is clearly intelligent. She’s well-spoken and well-mannered, and I can’t help wonder what brought her here. But I won’t pry, I know how fuckin’ irritating that can be.
I’m heading through the foyer to use the restroom, my eyes focusing on my phone while I type out a text to Skid letting him know everything is okay at the garage.
Not paying attention causes me to collide into another body, and as soon as the scent hits my nostrils the familiarity nearly knocks me off my feet.
