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“I think you’ll be okay if I can get you stitched up,” I said, trying to maintain my composure and not trip over my words. “They should be back soon. Just keep talking to me and don’t fall asleep. All this blood…” I mumbled.
“Ah, I’ve been in worse than this,” he laughed, a grimace crossing his face before he coughed. “Shit. Still hurts like a motherfucker.” His eyes glanced around before they settled on me. “Excuse my language, Rev.”
My heart squeezed. “A biker with manners,” I mused. “Now I’ve seen everything.”
“Hey, my momma raised me right.”
I smiled despite myself. What was it about him that made me do that? I was still worried, but he made me feel at ease. Unlike the other two he wasn’t pressuring me or pushing me around. Perhaps he really was the one with manners.
“Are you okay?” I asked. “How’s your breathing?”
“Fine,” he muttered. “Could go for a smoke. Is it too much to ask for you to grab my cigarettes from my pocket.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Yes.”
“Can’t blame a man for trying.” He gave me a devilish smirk that made me shudder. It was almost too sweet, too calm as if a true monster was hiding underneath the mask.
“What happened?” I asked, cutting through the tension before I had too much time to dwell on it.
Grimm shrugged and immediately grimaced. “I got shot.”
“Yes,” I said, tucking my hair behind my ear. “But how?”
His blue eyes roamed over my body as if he wasn’t sure how much to tell me. Grimm licked his lips. My eyes tracked the movement.
“I wanted to have a conversation with some guys about something important. They decided they would rather shoot me than talk. And then Christian, Hyde, and I decided to get the hell out of there before we ended up in black bags.”
I pressed my hands against his wound making him hiss. “Sorry,” I muttered. “What was the conversation about? Guns? Drugs?”
“Is that what you think a motorcycle club is?”
“Maybe,” I shrugged. “Am I wrong?”
Grimm practically stared right through me. I turned away finally, too intimidated by his gaze to look any longer.
“Whiskey and a sewing kit,” Hyde said as he jogged up to us. “This is good, right?”
I took both items from him. “Yes. These will do nicely.”
I opened the bottle of whiskey and poured it over Grimm’s arm. He hissed, coiling in on himself before he growled.
“You little b-” He sucked in a breath. “Do you think you could give me a fucking warning next time?”
“I thought you were taught to be respectful,” I shot back.
“You’re testing that respect,” he bit back at me, equally as irritated. “Warn me next time.”
I shuddered. “You don’t have to be mean.”
“This is the least amount of mean you’ll see from me if you do that shit again.”
Pussy. The word weighed heavily on my tongue, but I swallowed it down. That wasn’t the appropriate thing to think let alone say. I shoved the bottle against his mouth.
“Drink.”
Grimm’s eyes locked onto mine as he gulped the amber liquid down. When I pulled it away, he panted, growling at me.
“Listen-”
