Grim Ambition

by Jennifer Reinfried

  The two of them had walked the safer streets of Redborough when the weather was warm enough, and staying inside around one of their fireplaces when it was not. Shawn enjoyed watching movies with her, chuckling at the entertainment he couldn’t see, but could still hear. Emma purposely put on old episodes of The Flash to see if it elicited any response from him, but he reacted the same as he did to everything else on the television: asking her to describe scenes without dialogue and listening intently. She found herself thinking that maybe she’d made a mistake, that perhaps Jaxon or Cassie knew more about Grim instead.

  It doesn’t matter, she thought as she pulled a few games from her shelves and stacked them on her table. I have an in with Shawn. The closer I get to him, the closer I get to the others, and the sooner I can be done with playing him. She glanced down at a box in her hand. Playing him like a game. I’m a horrible person. The thought washed over her mind before she even realized she’d had it, and she grimaced. What else can I do? Leave? Get tracked down by Vance? Maybe. Even with Isaac acting like a child right now, at least we’d be together and not on my own. I’d know he was safe. But what if Vance finds us...?

  A soft knock sounded at her door, bringing Emma out of her confused, rambling thoughts. Moving to the door, she planted a smile on her face and opened it.

  “Well hey.” Shawn and Jaxon stood in the hall outside of her apartment, the latter holding two bottles of wine. “You can leave your shoes by the door, and I can take your coats.” She held out her arms as they moved inside and discarded their jackets.

  “Nice place.” Jaxon bent over and untied his laces, while Shawn simply used the toes of one foot to pry his heel out of one shoe, then the other. Emma glanced in his direction as she hung their coats in her closet, unanticipated excitement in her stomach. Her mind jumped back to the night after the Grim attack. How he had held her until she stopped shaking. How he had been a complete gentleman and spent the night on the couch, giving her his bed. Since that night, they’d spent nearly every day together, but this was the first time both he and Jaxon had visited her in her own home.

  “Thanks. What can I get you? I wouldn’t mind trying some of the wine you brought, myself.”

  “Wine sounds perfect.” Shawn wore a half grin. “Where do you want us?”

  “Well, I have a few games out on the table.” She looked at Jaxon and pointed to the wooden surface. She watched as he put a hand on his brother’s shoulder and guided him to one of her chairs, and both men sat. An awkward silence ensued as she hastened to fill three of her wine glasses with red wine.

  “I’m really excited you guys wanted to try a new game.” She brought their drinks over. “What kind are you two in the mood for?”

  “What’s this one?” Jaxon picked up a smaller, white, rectangular box adorned with exquisite artwork that depicted creatures, humans with glowing eyes, and a mechanical being, all with a Wild West feel.

  “I don’t think that one will work, actually.” Emma glanced at Shawn.

  “Grimslingers.” Jaxon read. He flipped the game over and studied the back. “Dude, the art’s cool.”

  “That’s actually the reason I bought it,” she said. “I was at a convention over the summer last year and saw people doing a demo of it in the vendor hall. I took one look at the art and threw money at them.”

  Shawn laughed, which elicited a flurry of giddiness. You’re falling for a target, you idiot. What’s the matter with you? Get the information Vance needs and get out. Then run like Isaac said. Find somewhere to escape to. Far away from Alex, from Vance, from getting shot at and used as a trap. Start over. With Isaac.

  If things had gone differently, it would be easier. If she had never gotten involved with Alex, or even Vance for that matter, if she had just led a normal, boring life, then maybe she would have met Shawn under different circumstances. I could fall head over heels for that man, Emma thought as she looked at him, his unkempt hair that always seemed to fall into place, his distant brown eyes, his cute, off-centered grin. Because he’s like Isaac in so many ways. She straightened and looked away. Stop it, she thought savagely. There’s nothing you can do about it now. He’s your target and nothing more.

  Jaxon’s voice brought her attention back. “So, you want to teach us how to play?”

  “Well, you kind of need to, uh...see to play that one. I’m sorry, Shawn.”

  “Don’t be.” Another smile from him stirred the flutters in her abdomen once more. “What’s it about?”

  “It’s fantastic.” Excitement of sharing the game, one of her favorites, crept into her voice. “You play a Grimslinger, which is a cowboy in the old West that was abducted by this weird robotic guy named Icarus. He sends you on a mission through the Forgotten West, and you battle creatures and cultists and witches along the way. Of course,” she grinned, “talking in an accent is required.”

  “Sweet,” Jaxon said with a laugh. Shawn had told her they’d had a fight a few weeks back, but wouldn’t go into much detail when she attempted to gather more information. However, it seemed their friendship was secure, albeit strained.

  “Actually, that would be really fun to listen to.” Shawn’s eyes were bright. “I’d love to hear you two try to pull off a cowboy accent.”

  The three shared a laugh. “Challenge accepted.” She motioned for Jaxon to open the box.

  An hour and a half later they were hopeless bubbles of laughter, buzzed from the wine, which they’d finished quickly. Once both bottles had been depleted, Emma had produced some gin and tonic water, and the three of them clinked short glasses together as they continued the game. As her poor attempts at the accent sent her new friends into fits of laughter, she noticed herself lightly touching Shawn’s arm or hand intermittently without a thought. When his leg made contact with hers underneath the table, she felt her cheeks warm, unable to prevent an upward tug at the corners of her lips. She glanced at him and saw he had a half-grin aimed in her direction, a knowing look in his eyes, and she flushed harder. I’m actually blushing, she thought to herself.

  Emma felt light-headed. She slid a hand underneath the wooden surface and lightly touched his knee to acknowledge his affection, and momentarily felt his fingers brush against hers. The warmth in her face and fullness in her chest could only mean one thing: I really like him, she thought with a slight panic. I like him, and I can’t hurt him. He’s not like my other targets, the horrible men who kill for pleasure, who would fuck me before even knowing my name. He’s...he’s good, and I can’t hurt him.

  Emma tore her gaze from Shawn and turned her attention to Jaxon, who sat across from her with understanding in his eyes. She looked back down at the game and cleared her throat, suddenly too aware of her pink cheeks and desire-filled thoughts.

  “I need to run to the restroom.” She stood and placed a light touch on Shawn’s shoulder. “Make sure he doesn’t cheat, okay?”

  “I’ll keep an eye on him for you.” He let out a chuckle as she moved away from the table toward the hallway bathroom, letting her fingers trail by his neck a moment.

  Emma rounded into the hallway and stopped just out of sight of Shawn and Jaxon, next to the bathroom entrance. She reached out and casually pulled the door shut with an obvious clunk, then leaned against the cool, hard drywall, head tilted, breath quiet.

  “Dude, I can leave if you need me to,” Jaxon was saying in a half whisper. His voice was just barely audible to Emma’s ears.

  She heard Shawn reply back in a whisper, but couldn’t make out the first few words. Leaning forward slightly, she made sure to stay out of sight. “Your accent is terrible, by the way,” he was saying.

  Jaxon let out a soft snort. “Like yours is any better.” A low clink sounded as she assumed he took a sip of his drink. “I kind of want a copy of this game.”

  “Because it’s fun, or because it’s got our friend’s name in it?” Shawn asked.

  “Yeah, ironic, huh? Both, actually. I wish you could see the drawings.”

 
; “Oh, please, can you tell me a seventh time about this magnificent masterpiece?”

  “Sorry, sorry. I’ll never mention art again.”

  “Good.”

  A pause, then Jaxon said, “I’m going to head out soon, man. I have shit to do, anyway, and you two can...”

  More whispered words filled the air, but Emma tuned them out. Her mind focused on what Shawn had just said about the title of the game: they both knew who Grim was.

  —-

  Alex was pleased with himself. Not only were the Acerbi now working with Vance, but he also had received a verbal pat on the back from Vance for his attempt to take down Grim two weeks ago. Although the vigilante had escaped, Vance had seen his ambition, his initiative, and Alex had been able to use that to get back in the Russian’s good graces. Since then, he had busied himself with setting up another trap for Grim, running Vance’s errands as he always did, and steadily feeling a fury he’d never experienced before. With each passing day he didn’t hear from Emma, the rage grew stronger.

  Give her time. She’s upset I used her in the trap without telling her. He smiled. The fact that she came back to me that night, so soon after our fight, all but shows she’ll heel by my side again soon. Still, he only had so much patience.

  “Turn down the heat, Nate.”

  The driver obliged, twisting a knob to stop the warm air flow from pumping through the SUV’s vents.

  Alex glanced at Emma’s apartment again. Jaxon had exited a while ago, but Shawn was still up there. Not for the first time, he struggled with the nearly overwhelming urge to break down her door, but he relented. Glancing at the clock told him it was nearly midnight.

  “I’ve seen enough. Take me home.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He was quiet for a moment as Nate began driving toward Alex’s penthouse downtown. Images of Emma on her back, Shawn buried between her legs, kept his fuming high, and he took a steadying breath before speaking again.

  “Do you know what I think, Nate?”

  “What’s that, sir?”

  “I think this has gone on for far too long.”

  “Her infiltration?”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought you said they take months. It’s only been—”

  “Far too long.”

  “I see. Yes, I think you’re right.”

  They pulled up to a red light. Alex made eye contact with Nate in the rearview mirror.

  “I think,” he said, “that it’s time to take matters into our own hands.”

  —-

  “Another drink?” Emma asked.

  “Well, maybe just one more,” Shawn replied. He now sat on her couch and was trying to figure out where to put his hands before she returned. Shifting his weight, he attempted different positions, then chastised himself and started over. No, too stiff. Okay, that’s too informal. If I put my hands here she might not sit as close.

  Shawn couldn’t believe he was still so nervous around her. I’ve jumped from rooftops into violent frays, approached criminals in the heat of battle, passed judgement on the city’s scum, yet here I am, terrified I’m going to ruin my chances. He eventually settled on resting his left arm along the back of the couch with his right hand in his lap, and waited comfortably for a moment until he realized she might sit on the other side of him.

  “I didn’t make this one as strong,” Emma’s voice said, which caused him to start. He’d been so preoccupied he hadn’t heard her approach.

  “Oh good. I have to drive home, you know.” Emma laughed lightly. The couch shifted as she lowered herself next to him. She’d sat on his left, perfectly in line with his extended arm. He could smell the light scent of her, could sense her closeness.

  “So I—” He paused as a loud scratching noise sounded through the room.

  “Oh, Laska, stop!” Emma stood, and Shawn listened to her open a door a moment later. Within seconds, a dog had bounded up onto his lap to emit a wave of sour breath into his face. Shawn laughed and reached forward, only to have his fingers licked before he could pet her.

  “I’m sorry. She’s normally content in the other room when I have company. Laska, leave him alone.”

  “I don’t mind.” The dog’s tongue caught him in the jaw. “Is she always this friendly?” Shawn started to scratch Laska’s scruff, which caused her to cease the frantic attempts at attention and instead sit quietly, the nails of her back feet digging into his thigh.

  “Yeah,” Emma replied. “Well, almost always.”

  “Oh? How could this sweet and presumably adorable dog have any enemies?”

  “Well, she hated my ex. Hell, everyone did.” Emma’s voice quieted and she trailed off. Shawn didn’t want to pry, but he genuinely wanted to get to know her. He was aware this was a touchy subject, so he knew he had to choose his words carefully.

  “Huh?” he said.

  “Oh, he just wasn’t...he...” Emma paused. “He was abusive.” Her light voice was soft and distant.

  Shawn felt the smile fade from his face, and he stopped petting Laska. “I’m so sorry.”

  “He’s a fucking lunatic is more like it.”

  Shawn felt Laska move off of his lap and onto the floor. He leaned back into the couch and returned his left arm to its previous position.

  “At least I’m away from him now.”

  A little adrenaline skipped through in his stomach as he felt her shift closer.

  “Did you grow up in Redborough?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “For the most part I did.”

  “But you weren’t born here?” He felt her hair tickle the side of his arm.

  “No. Jax and I moved here after the adoption.” He hesitated only a moment, then maneuvered his fingers down until he felt her soft locks between them.

  “You two are so close. It’s good to see that.” Emma’s voice was quieter, and he felt her lean against him, pressed into his side. His breathing slowed in anticipation, but his heart continued to race.

  “Not always.” Shawn, too, leaned toward her, and placed his right hand on her thigh.

  “Shawn?” She put her hand over his and lifted it to the side of her face.

  “Hmm?” He was having difficulty controlling the flutters that were occurring inside of him.

  “I don’t want to talk anymore.” He felt a skip in his chest, and then Emma’s lips were on his, soft and warm. His body seemed to turn numb with the thrill of the moment as he kissed her back. She tasted like Christmas from the gin. He pulled her closer with one hand, the other lost in the tangles of her hair. She pushed against him again, and soon his back was along the couch with her atop him.

  Emma said his name against his mouth, their breath mingling. He could think of nothing other than her, and he trailed his hands down her body, along her curves. Her shirt had lifted in their embrace and he felt her soft, warm skin as his fingers continued a shy exploration. A moment later, she stood, hand clasped with his, gently pulling him to his feet.

  Shawn’s head swam as his blood rushed downward. Emma kissed him again, and he pulled her hips into his. Their breathing was heavier now, and he felt her fingers slide into his hair as their passion escalated. He slowly lifted her shirt upward, and she let him, the fabric pulling over her head in a minute rustle. In his distraction, he never heard it hit the floor.

  “I really like you,” he mumbled, and his lips found hers again.

  Emma took him by the hand and led him out of the living room, down a short hallway. The new area was dimly lit, and Shawn couldn’t see a thing other than darkness, but he trusted her completely as she brought him through her bedroom and gently sat him on her mattress. She was gone for a moment, and he heard her utter, “Stay,” then her door shut and they were all over each other once more.

  —-

  Isaac sat on the edge of his bed, wide awake, with depression outlining his soul. With Emma fully integrated into the lives of Shawn, Jaxon and Cassie, along with his embarrassment, they’d barely seen each ot
her since the night after her kidnapping.

  Pull yourself together. Do something to get your mind off of this, and quit moping. He forced himself to pull on a pair of jeans and a dark green sweater, throw on his coat, and walk out of his one-bedroom downtown apartment to meander through the social night life of the streets below.

  As he wandered, Isaac thought yet again of Emma and the night in her bed. It had been weeks, and Isaac found himself tired of staring dejectedly at his phone in hopes of a message or a phone call from Emma; he knew he somehow had to get his mind out of the slump it had been in for weeks, thus his current trek.

  He had barely walked four blocks when he heard the thump of music. A swell of voices accompanied the sound and blended together into a dull throb. He rounded the corner and came to a slow halt in front of a bar called Sway. Bright blue neon letters announced the name of the establishment, placed in large, tinted, floor-to-ceiling windows that faced the street. A lone bouncer dressed in all white sat on an ebony stool in front of the entrance, a bored look on his plump face as he watched a large group of people smoking three yards away. Isaac eyed the door. Why not? he thought. Nothing else to do.

  A hot gust of air buffeted Isaac’s face as he entered the bar after the bouncer checked his ID. The music had intensified as the door opened, and Isaac, not one to frequent loud, obnoxious bars, winced and nearly turned to leave. The place was crowded, but not packed, and he politely shouldered his way around two large groups until he reached a long, sleek, pewter bar.

  Dark furniture was scattered throughout the business, but the majority of the space was taken up by a large, square, tiled dance floor. Dull lights flashed in a continuous yet random pattern as music swelled and crescendoed, bounced and wavered. Isaac squeezed between the back of a man who was busy flirting with a short, blonde woman and the shoulder of a pale, black-haired girl. He nodded briefly in her direction, then turned his attention to the bartenders, both of whom were occupied with other patrons. His gaze flicked between the two, a man and a woman, who, like the bouncer, seemed utterly bored with their night as they serviced a steady flow of needy customers.