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He locks his eyes on my reflection. “What are you doing down here?” he signs, and I notice his knuckles are bleeding.
After closing the distance between us, I reach for Grim’s hand and am surprised when he lets me touch him. For the last week, he’s always been close, but never this close.
It’s… nice.
I spot a small bar area with drinks on the opposite side of the room. Keeping his hand in mine, I march us over to the sink and turn on the water so I can wash the blood off him. Above the sink is a first aid kit, and I point to it since I’m so short. Even if my ribs weren’t broken, I’d never be able to reach it. Grim grabs the kit and pulls it off the high shelf. Then I dab his hands dry with the towel on the counter, and I take my time applying antibacterial ointment to them.
He must get sick of me avoiding his question because he tips my chin up once his knuckles are bandaged.
“Thanks. Now, what are you doing down here?”
Suddenly, I’m not feeling brave. I fidget with my hands in front of me, shuffle my feet, and my heart hammers in my chest. Steadying myself, I slowly untwine my fingers, taking a deep breath before I respond.
“I asked Cece to take me home.”
“What?”
“I saw you storm away pissed.” I hesitate. “I don’t want you to hate me for bringing trouble to your club.”
“I could never hate you.”
“You know who I am and who my parents are. You saw the news.”
“I did, which raises more fucking questions than answers. What kind of trouble are you in?” He holds up his hand before I can answer and levels me with his gaze. “Time for the truth Sprite. Who hurt you? Because I’ll be damned if I let you walk out of here and straight into your death.”
I shake my head in denial, but he doesn’t let me retreat. He folds his arms over his chest and stares into my eyes. I can’t look away, but it’s like all my secrets are being exposed, and he can see into the depths of my soul. I’m exposed and can’t cover myself or hide anymore.
He sees me. He’s not looking through me but looking into me.
A sense of calm and rightness surrounds me. I don’t know what possesses me to take the chance, but I spill my guts.
I tell Grim everything about my whirlwind romance with Brad, how I thought he loved me, but found out too late that it was all just a lie. I explain about the first time Brad pushed me and insisted it was an accident, and instead of listening to my gut, I accepted his apology and still stayed.
Grim remains stoic while I detail my meager existence… until now.
“Do your parents know?”
“They know about the first time, not the rest.”
Grim’s nostrils flare. “They fucking knew and didn’t let you call it off?”
I nod slowly and continue. “My dad talked to him and then assured me that everything would be fine.”
“And the day we pulled you out of your apartment?”
A tremor racks my body as I recall the events of that day. Part of me wishes that the memories hadn’t surfaced, but the bigger part of me, the wiser part of me, knows I needed to remember.
My movements are robotic as I explain what happened. I’m so lost in the retelling, I don’t realize Grim has walked around me until I hear glass shattering fills the room. The mirror is now in thousands of pieces on the floor, and a hole the size of a dumbbell is in the wall where the reflective glass used to be. Grim’s chest heaves as he swings back around to face me.
“I will fucking end him.” His fingers move jerkily.
“No, please Grim,” I beg. “I don’t want you to get hurt or go to jail.”
“You need to tell your parents the truth.”
“I can’t. Brad threatened to hurt them if I did.” My eyes fill up and tears fall, but I don’t even attempt to wipe them away. I’m purging my soul, and even though I can’t leave Brad, at least one person will know my story.
At least one person will know who to blame if I turn up dead.
