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“So, you’ll go through life without ever letting yourself love someone on the off-chance you might turn into your father?”
“I’d never put a woman through the horror my mother endured.” Or what he’d lived through at his father’s hand.
“Exactly. You just said it. You’d never do what your father did to your mother.”
“What if I lost my temper and lost control?” he said.
“And have you?”
He nodded. “Remember the part where I told you I had the choice of going into the military or going to jail?” Grimm’s lips pressed into a tight line. “I beat the hell out of a man who was slapping his wife around in a parking lot for dropping a jar of spaghetti sauce. When I saw what he was doing to her, I lost it.”
“How old were you?”
He frowned. “Seventeen.”
She met his gaze straight on. “Have you lost control like that since?”
“No.”
“Seriously.” She shook her head. “You were a hormonal teenager full of rage from a terrible childhood. You’ve since matured physically as well as mentally.” She took his hand and led him to the truck. “Cut yourself some slack. Let yourself be happy. Life is entirely too short to be miserable.”
He opened her door for her and handed her up into her seat.
She leaned out, cupped his cheeks in her palms and kissed him soundly. “You have a sexy mouth. Don’t waste a good thing while you have it.” She winked and pulled her door shut.
Grimm walked around the truck, a thousand thoughts rushing through his head. He’d spent his life avoiding affairs of the heart, afraid he’d turn out just like his father. When he drank alcohol, he was careful not to drink too much. He never wanted to lose control, afraid there was a nasty beast buried deep inside, just waiting for the opportunity to rear its ugly head.
When he slipped into the driver’s seat, he dared a glance at the petite woman next to him.
She sat with a determined look on her face and a blue pushpin in her hand. “Stop over-thinking things, Grimm. If you let nature take its course, you might actually learn how to be happy. If not with me, then some other lucky woman.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Now, let’s find out where in hell my uncle wants us to go next. I’m getting a bit frustrated with his clues and need to get back to my job before my boss thinks I’ve abandoned her.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Grimm gave Dezi a mock salute and drove out of the trailer park. The woman might be small in stature, but she had a big presence and an inner strength that would see her through life on her own terms. A man would be lucky to have her at his side as a partner, friend and wife.
Just not him. His father’s legacy was horrifying and still too raw for him to ignore, even almost two decades after Grimm had been removed from his abuse.
He drove his truck out of Bozeman, heading back to Eagle Rock. Before he left cell phone coverage, he placed a call to Hank Patterson.
“Mr. Reaper, how’s protection duty with Ms. Thomas going?”
“It’s been…interesting. We have a challenge for you. It has to do with a contour map. We need help determining the coordinates.”
“Do you have the map?”
“No. But we have the photograph of it.”
“The one you sent earlier?” Hank asked.
“Yes.”
“Perfect. We weren’t sure what you wanted us to do with it, but Swede should have the map identified. As soon as you tell me where on the map you’re interested in going, we can calculate the coordinates.”
“The blue pushpin,” Grimm said. “Get the coordinates for the blue pushpin. Anything you can tell me about that location will help.”
“Got it. Where are you now?” Hank asked.
“Just leaving Bozeman, heading your way.”
“We’ll have that set of coordinates and anything else we can find out about the location when you arrive.”
