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“This was a bad idea,” she signs, fear written across her features, and then she moves toward the door.
I don’t know what comes over me, but I move to block Violet’s path. Her eyes widen as she halts in her tracks.
“You know sign language?” I ask, unable to form another coherent thought.
It’s been a while since I first saw Violet on TV, and numerous cold showers. She’s haunted my dreams and dominated my fantasies. And my imagination didn’t do her an ounce of justice.
She’s fucking stunning.
Violet nods, and it takes me a moment to remember my question. I’m about to ask her where she learned, but Cece shifts to stand next to her.
“Violet, this is Grim,” she signs, and her lips move so I know she’s also speaking out loud. “Grim, this is Violet.”
“I know who she is, but what I want to know is why she’s here.”
“How do you know me?” Violet asks.
I stare at her incredulously. “You’re on TV.”
Violet moves her eyes from my face, down my body, and back up again. “You watch my father?”
“Hell no,” I reply without thinking.
She looks from me to Cece. They converse, but neither sign so I don’t know what they’re saying. After a few minutes, Violet’s shoulders sag, and Cece wraps an arm around her to tuck the tiny sprite into her side.
Tiny sprite? Dammit, my man card is in serious jeopardy.
“Grim, Violet was sent by Laura,” Cece explains. “She was helping her try on dresses, and she…” Her gaze trails to Violet, and there’s empathy in her expression. “She saw something she didn’t like.”
Instantly, I stiffen. Not only does the image of Violet in a wedding dress have me mentally drooling, but the thought that Laura sent her to us for help makes my insides burn with rage. Much like I did with Cece when I first arrived, I scan Violet for injuries, ignoring the way my cock grows with each delicious inch of her.
Locking eyes with her, I motion for Violet to come closer to me. When she doesn’t, I reach out and brush a finger along her cheek to coax her away from Cece.
Soft… I’m gonna go soft for this girl. I can feel it in my soul.
Violet flinches, and I remove my touch.
“Why did Laura send you here?”
Deep in my gut, I know the answer, but I need her to tell me. With my Prez and VP away, it falls to me to make sure things are done right.
“I…” She shakes her head. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“If you need help, we can help you,” I tell her. “But I need to know what happened.”
“Why?”
I arch a brow. “Why what?”
“Why would you help me?”
I shrug. “Because it’s what we do.”
“You keep saying ‘we’.”
“My club.”
“Club?”
