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“Did you need these too?” Her blood-stained fingers begin sliding into the waist of her panties.
“No! Not right now.” I make sure I keep my head down and hold out my hand, hoping I’ve managed to stop her before she’s pulled them off her hips.
“You should go take a shower. I’ll make sure to clear up in there after you’re done”
“Thanks, Grimm.” When I feel her hand touch my shoulder, I quickly stand up. She looks down her nose to my crotch, then licks her lips before she passes through the narrow gap between me and the wall. And all I can do is stand and stare, mesmerized, as I watch her all the way to the bathroom.
I shake myself back to reality, taking everything in around me, prioritizing the list of jobs in my head while figuring what I'm gonna need. Then I take out my cell and dial Skid.
“Talk to me, Grimm, is she okay?” He sounds frantic.
“Um, yeah.”
Surprisingly fucking fine, considering.
“I ain't gonna pretty it up, Skid, she’s unleashed a fucking massacre on whoever this is.” I balance the cell between my ear and shoulder so I can snap on a pair of rubber gloves. Then crouching down, I search the body for something I can use to identify him.
“Jesus Christ, his hips are only still connected by tendons,” I tell Skid, before finally locating something in the guy’s front pocket.
“Machete?” Skid asks, sounding like a proud father.
“It appears so.”
“Told her that thing would come in handy someday.”
“You got a name for me, Grimm?” he asks, barely giving me time to open the wallet.
“Yep, we got Eddie Clark.” I read the name off the guy’s driving license.
“Ain't ever heard of him, you?” Skid sounds curious.
“You want me to get Maddy to look into him?” I suggest, and Skid goes silent on me for a while.
“Yeah, and I want Rogue at the club for a few nights, until we know what we’re dealing with here. She can stay at my cabin.”
“Sure thing, and, Skid…” I catch him before he hangs up. “Is she always so…”
“Bat shit crazy?” he cuts in. “Yep. Keep me posted, Grimm.” I hang up the phone, just as she steps out of the bathroom. There's only a short towel covering her freshly washed body and she’s got her hair wrapped up in another one on top of her head. The water must have been too hot or her skin’s been scrubbed too harshly because it has more color to it now, and she smells deliciously sweet.
I do my best not to stare at her because I’m too fucking afraid of the images she might put in my head.
“Excuse me,” she says as she steps past me, making sure the front of her body brushes against mine as she shuffles around the dead man on her carpet.
I wait until she’s in the bedroom with the door shut behind her before I let out an agitated breath and prepare myself to get started.
Storm arrives not long after, bringing with him all the supplies I’d texted and asked for.
“The fuck happened here?” he asks, stepping in through the front door and taking a look around.
“Here’s my panties, Grimm.” Of course, Rogue would choose this moment to step out of the bedroom with her lacey whites dangling on the end of her finger for me. Storm stares between her and me, his eyes bulging from his head.
“She’s what fucking happened,” I toss my head in her direction. She’s wearing jeans now, and a tight as fuck Guns ‘n’ Roses T-shirt that shows off the bottom half of her stomach.
“Got the Prospect cut, I see. Congratulations.” Rogue sounds genuine as she steps over the body in her hall and heads toward him. I follow her with my stare, intrigued by her behavior.
“Well come on, this mess ain't gonna clear up itself now, is it.” She shoots me a look over her shoulder. One that could turn Jesus himself into a sinner.
Once Storms brings everything I need inside, I pull out the old iPod from my pocket and scroll to one of my playlists. Rogue is pacing the living room floor now, her phone tight to her ear and I’m just about to put my headphones in when I hear the sudden change of tone in her voice.
