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Ping. Ping. Ping.
Grim groans and takes a deep breath before leaning back from me. He pulls out his cell and starts hammering away. Leaving him to deal with his texts, I head to my closet and pull down my clothes, shoving them into my suitcase. Next, I clean out my dresser. Then I grab all my make-up and toiletry items from the bathroom. Grim must’ve gone back to the living room because when I finally zip up my bags, I notice I’m alone. He appears a minute later holding my backpack and purse, Justin trailing behind him.
“Oh, hey, Justin.” I offer a small wave.
“Hi, Violet.” Justin smiles and grabs my luggage, leaving Grim and me standing in my bedroom.
“You ready?” Grim asks. “I have to get back to the clubhouse. I have shit that needs to be dealt with.”
I want to ask what he needs to do, but I remain silent. “Yes.”
He takes my hand, and as we stroll out the door, I soak up all his strength.
I don’t look back. I won’t. Instead, I look toward the future.
CHAPTER25
GRIM
“It’s nice to meet you.”
I focus on Thorn, who’s translating for Violet’s parents. The two people who raised her are sitting across the table from me, Thorn, Soul, Abyss, Spike, and Fort. We set this meeting in the hopes of them engaging the club’sservicesto find Violet. Judging by the way they’re wrinkling up their noses at their surroundings in Purgatory, they’re not fond of what I’m sure they consider a criminal element.
I eye them skeptically. Mr. Simpson is dressed in a charcoal gray three-piece suit, crisp white dress shirt, and a red tie. His wife is wearing a dark green dress with a strand of pearls and hat to match. They stick out like sore thumbs here.
“Let’s dispense with the formalities, Mrs. Simpson,” Soul says. “We agreed to this meeting to see if there’s anything we can do to help find your daughter. Why don’t you start by telling us what you know?”
Every fiber of my being wants to demand why they let their daughter be hurt, why they did nothing, but I don’t. Instead, I fidget with the cheap gold band that I’m continuing to wear until my real wedding ring is sized.
Violet’s mother darts her eyes to her husband and then back to Soul. “Well, that’s the thing. We don’t exactly want help finding her.”
Anger surges through me, and I jump to my feet, not giving a damn if I draw attention to us or not.
“What the fuck is wrong with you people?” I demand. “Your child is missing, and you don’t even care?”
Mr. Simpson rapidly shakes his head, and Spike grabs my arm to tug me back into my chair.
“We do want to find Violet,” Mr. Simpson insists. “We really do. But first, we need another problem dealt with.”
I narrow my eyes with suspicion. “What could be more important than finding her?”
Her mother dabs at her eyes. “Making sure it’s safe enough for her to come home.”
Wait… what?
“Explain,” Spike demands.
Her eyes well with tears, and her shoulders rise quickly as if she’s sniffling. “Her fiancé, Brad, has been thre—”
I pound my fists onto the table. “He’s not her goddamn fiancé. Violet’s already married.”
“And there goes any chance we had at subterfuge,” Abyss mutters.
“M-m-married?” Mrs. Simpson asks. “You know our daughter? You know Violet?”
“Before we tell you what we know, you’re gonna need to talk to us about that douchebag she was engaged to,” Soul explains. “Your post said you needed help with one thing, and you come in here with a completely different agenda. Forgive us if we’re not jumping at the chance to serve you.”
“You see, the man our daughter was engaged to is a violent psychopath. He insinuated himself into our lives, our church, and put on a very good show,” Mr. Simpson explains. “We are all too aware of how he’s treated Violet, but unfortunately, he’s blackmailing us to keep our mouths shut.”
