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aisling grimlock 03 - grim discovery

Page 11

by Amanda M. Lee


  “How are you going to get my pants off if I do that?”

  “Do what I say,” Griffin ordered.

  “You’re so bossy.” I did as instructed, watching as Griffin kneed his way up between my legs and lifted them so the soles of my feet rested against his chest.

  “Lift your bottom and I’ll pull these off as fast as I can.”

  “Now you sound like one of the tools I dated in high school,” I muttered.

  Griffin ignored the jab. The second I lifted my hips he yanked on the denim, causing me to whimper as the jeans slid down my thighs. Griffin pulled them completely off, furrowing his brow as he zeroed in on the torn flesh on my hip. “That looks horrible.”

  “It feels worse.”

  Griffin sighed as he lowered my legs to the mattress. “Don’t move. I’ll get some peroxide and bandages. You’re a walking calamity. You know that, right?”

  “You’re not the first person to tell me that.”

  Griffin returned with the first aid supplies a few moments later. He turned me on my side so he could get at the wound. “Tell me about your lunch.”

  “You’re trying to distract me because this is going to hurt, aren’t you?”

  “I want you to tell me about your lunch so we can get to the fighting portion of today’s festivities,” Griffin countered.

  “Well, that’s something to look forward to. Ow!”

  Griffin scorched me with a look. “Hold still and tell me about your lunch,” he said, his tone dark. “Then we’re going to fight. Then we’re going to make up. Then I’m going to buy you dinner. How does that sound?”

  “Better than the straight-out fighting,” I admitted. “Well, first off, I should warn you that the Grimlocks and Grimponds didn’t exactly get along when we were growing up.”

  “Why not? Hold still, baby. This is going to sting.”

  “I … ugh … .” I gripped the comforter as Griffin poured hydrogen peroxide into the open wound.

  “I’m sorry,” Griffin murmured. “I have to clean this out. Tell me why you fought with the Grimponds.”

  I related the entire sordid history between out families, including my tendency to dance when we won and Redmond’s inability to ignore the pervert Everett was.

  “I’m starting to like Redmond more and more with each passing story,” Griffin said. “What kind of disgusting piece of crap goes after a fifteen-year-old girl?”

  “One who probably couldn’t get noticed in his own age group,” I replied, gritting my teeth as Griffin dabbed at the wound. “Anyway, Fox said he didn’t reap my mother. He said Everett did.”

  “And you think he’s lying?”

  “I think he’s definitely lying,” I said. “He couldn’t tell me where my mother’s soul was put to rest and when I asked him about the wraiths he played dumb.”

  “Maybe he didn’t really know about the wraiths.”

  “He turned white and was nervous. He knew.”

  “Okay, let me bandage this,” Griffin said, rolling his neck until it cracked. “I’m putting Neosporin on it, too. When was the last time you had a tetanus shot?”

  “About six months ago when Aidan knocked me down the stairs and I cut my foot open on the metal rungs of the banister.”

  “Well, that’s something at least,” Griffin said. “Why did Aidan knock you down the stairs?”

  “We were playing keep away with Jerry and things got out of hand.”

  “Of course they did,” Griffin said. “Did anything else happen at your lunch?”

  “No. He’s never going to tell me the truth.”

  “Then we have to have to find the kid and question him,” Griffin said. “You can’t go alone, though. If he tries to look down your shirt now I’ll beat him.”

  “Oh, well, that will be worth the cost of a shared meal by itself.”

  “Done,” Griffin said, taping the bandage in place and helping me roll onto my back. “Now, tell me how you did this.”

  There had to be a way out of this. “Hey, I’m already half naked. Let’s have sex instead.”

  “Yeah, nice try. Tell me.”

  “You’re going to be extremely angry when I tell you how this happened.”

  “I’ve braced myself for that inevitability,” Griffin said. “Come on. Get it over with.”

  “Fine. I just want it noted for the record that you didn’t have to hear this and all the screaming you’re about to do is completely unnecessary.”

  Griffin sighed and rolled back on his haunches until he landed in a sitting position. “Aisling, if you don’t tell me how this happened I’ll tell your father to put you back on probation.”

  “You suck.”

  “Aisling!” Griffin practically growled.

  “My lone job of the day was a forty-year-old woman named Nancy Travers. Her husband stabbed her twenty times in the chest. I didn’t realize he was still in the house when I went to collect her soul. He went after me, so I tried to climb out of a window and got snagged by a nail when he tried to pull me back in by my feet. Then he tried to crawl out after me and got stuck in the window. Satisfied?”

  Instead of freaking out and flying off the handle, Griffin burst into a laughing fit.

  “Why aren’t you yelling at me?”

  “I already kind of knew,” Griffin replied after he collected himself.

  “How?”

  “Who do you think got called to the scene?”

  Whoops! I hadn’t even considered that. “What did Fred say?”

  “Well, the good news is that he was drunk as a skunk and said that a black-haired devil with white streaks in her hair and a magic glowstick of death sneaked into his house and killed his wife,” Griffin said. “He said she also told him that he was going to be raped in prison and she looked forward to it. Luckily, Andrea wasn’t around for that part of the confession and I didn’t include it in my report. He has a record of beating Nancy. It was open and shut. No one will believe him about someone else being there – if he even remembers it when he sobers up.”

  “She was kind of sad,” I admitted. “I had to sneak into Grimlock Manor to deposit her soul before coming home. Luckily, Dad was on a conference call, so he didn’t see me, and none of my brothers were there. She’s going to a better place. She thought I was lying when I told her that.”

  “You were lucky Fred didn’t kill you,” Griffin said, his expression serious. “You know that, right?”

  “I know that I was distracted by my lunch with Fox and I shouldn’t have let that interfere with my job,” I said. “I … know better. I was so keyed up, though. I knew he was lying from the start. It kind of took the wind out of my sails.”

  “We’ll figure it out,” Griffin said. “What we need to do is come up with an excuse for how this happened.”

  “I’ll just say I tripped. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “Yeah, that’s the excuse abused women use,” Griffin argued. “There have been times where I’ve been tempted to strangle you. I’d prefer it if people didn’t think I beat you, though.”

  “We’ll say I slammed my car door on it,” I suggested.

  “I guess that’s better than nothing,” Griffin said. “The good news is that your injury will definitely get us out of Saturday’s softball game.”

  “I wasn’t going to that regardless.”

  “Not even to do your little dance again?” Griffin teased.

  “I’ll do that dance for you when I have my full range of motion back,” I offered. I opened my arms and gestured toward him.

  “What?”

  “You haven’t given me my hug yet,” I reminded him. “I kind of need it.”

  Griffin rolled his eyes but carefully moved so he was on top of me. He rested his head against my shoulder as he pulled me close. “Please be more careful when you’re out on jobs. I don’t think I could take it if something happens to you.”

  “It was negligence on my part,” I said. “I won’t let that happen again. Trust me. I learn
ed my lesson.”

  “That would be a nice change of pace.” Griffin kissed my cheek. “I’m sorry you didn’t get the answers you were looking for regarding your mom.”

  “I did, though,” I said. “He was lying. I’m not sure who he’s trying to protect – whether it’s Everett or someone else – but I know he’s lying. He never reaped my mother.”

  “What do you want to do now?”

  “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “I need to think. For now I’m just going to do this.”

  “What? Have me lay on top of you all night? Your family already thinks we’re animals.”

  I snorted. “I was hoping for five more minutes of this and then some dinner. I’m starving. I didn’t get to eat lunch because Fox was so keen to escape the restaurant.”

  “I can deal with that,” Griffin said, nuzzling his face into the hollow between my neck and shoulder.

  We lapsed into comfortable silence for a few moments.

  “Aisling?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I’m not joking about being more careful,” Griffin said. “I need you to not leave me.”

  His words tore at my heart. “I won’t leave you,” I said, fighting off tears. “You’re too hot for me to let you go.”

  Griffin’s chest rumbled with laughter. “You’re unbelievable.”

  “I’ll teach you the loser dance in a couple of days,” I offered. “Then we can do it together.”

  “I’ll only learn it if you wear those softball pants when you teach me.”

  “Deal.”

  Thirteen

  “What are you doing today, gimpy?” Aidan asked the next morning as Griffin and I shuffled into the kitchen for breakfast. “I can’t believe you closed the door on your hip. You’re such a klutz.”

  Griffin and I exchanged a brief look. “Don’t worry. Griffin has already teased me about it. I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “When are you paying attention?”

  It’s bad enough that my brothers get off on making fun of me for things I actually do. Being teased for something I didn’t do was almost unbearable – especially when I looked like an idiot because of the imaginary deed.

  “Leave her alone,” Griffin instructed, helping me to the table and pulling a chair out for me. “She feels bad enough without you heaping more crap on her.”

  “Hey, you’re the one dating her,” Aidan said. “Shouldn’t you be trying to make it so she’s not a constant embarrassment?”

  “Hey!”

  “She’s not a constant embarrassment,” Griffin said, patting my hand.

  “Thank you.” He’s handsome and charming. In fact, he’s practically perfect.

  “She’s only an embarrassment fifty percent of the time.”

  My face fell as Griffin poked me in my good side to let me know he wasn’t serious. I was still annoyed. “What’s for breakfast?”

  “Omelets,” Jerry said from his spot at the stove. “We’ve got ham, mushrooms, tomatoes and onions. I wasn’t going to put onions in yours, Bug, but I figure you two are so horny lately that they won’t slow you down.”

  My cheeks burned as I glanced down at the table. “I … what?”

  “You two are in heat or something,” Aidan said, leaning back in his chair. “All you do is hole up in your room and … well … I don’t want to think what you do in there. You guys actually ate dinner in there last night. If you do gross things with food, don’t ever tell me about it.”

  “We’re not doing gross things with food,” I snapped.

  “Your sister is injured,” Griffin reminded Aidan. “All we did was watch television and eat Lebanese food. Why is your mind always in the gutter?”

  “Maybe because I’ve been sharing a very thin wall with the two of you for the past month,” Aidan suggested. “Seriously, maybe you two should come up for air. Jerry is starting to feel neglected.”

  I stilled, surprised by Aidan’s words. I shifted my eyes to Jerry, who seemed awfully focused on his omelets. “Jerry, are you upset?”

  “Of course not.”

  He refused to turn around. I forced myself to my feet, my hip screaming as I moved across the kitchen. Griffin looked as if he would follow so I shook my head. I knew I had been neglecting Jerry for the past week and a half. I hoped he’d fail to notice.

  I placed my hand on his back and leaned in closer. “Are you angry with me?”

  “Of course not, Bug,” Jerry said, his tone breezy. “Why would I possibly be mad at you?”

  “I … .” I broke off, pursing my lips. Jerry’s moods were hard to read. He was clearly upset. Now I had to ascertain just how upset. “I’m sorry if I haven’t been paying enough attention to you. I’ve just been kind of … busy.

  “Between getting off probation and dealing with all of the Fontaine stuff I’ve been … caught up in my own head,” I continued. “I didn’t mean to shut you out.”

  “Do you think that’s why I’m angry?”

  “I … why else would you be angry?” I couldn’t help but be confused.

  Jerry swiveled, a spatula gripped tightly in his hand. “Why else would I be angry? Why else would I be angry? Are you kidding me?” Jerry’s voice borders on shrill on a normal day. He was way above that octave now.

  “Put the spatula down,” Griffin ordered. He sat at the table, his eyes focused on the newspaper, but his voice was grim. “If you hit her with that spatula I’m going to be totally ticked off.”

  “Mind your own business,” Jerry snapped.

  Uh-oh. This was serious. Jerry never yelled at Griffin. He thought Griffin was my last shot at snagging a man. He usually doted on him. “Jerry … .”

  “Don’t tell me what to do,” Griffin retorted. “I don’t know what bug crawled up your butt, but there’s no reason to yell at her. She’s injured.”

  “That bug! That one!” Jerry waved the spatula in my face. “She’s the one that crawled up my butt!”

  I didn’t like the way that sounded. “Jerry, why don’t you hand me the spatula and tell me why you’re so upset,” I suggested. “I can’t make it up to you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

  “You’re supposed to know what’s wrong,” Jerry wailed, slapping the spatula against the counter.

  “All right, that’s enough of that,” Griffin said, moving to climb out of his chair.

  Aidan stopped him with a hand on his wrist and a shake of his head. “Let them get this out of their system. If you intervene now, the next meltdown will be even worse. Trust me.”

  Griffin arched a challenging eyebrow. “It gets worse than this?”

  “You have no idea.”

  I dragged my attention from Griffin and Aidan to focus on Jerry. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “That’s the problem, Bug. You have no idea what is wrong.”

  “I … I don’t know what you want me to say,” I admitted. “Do you want me to beg you for forgiveness?” It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.

  “I want you to tell me why I’m upset,” Jerry said.

  Oh, well, this was fun. “I … forgot to go to a special event at Get Baked.” Jerry hosts party nights once a month at his bakery. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember when the last one was held.

  “That’s not until next week,” Jerry seethed.

  “Oh, well … .” I tilted my head to the side and glanced at Aidan, hoping he could subtly give me a clue.

  Aidan extended his fingers and popped them up and down next to his head … miming wearing a crown. Crap. I knew exactly what he was indicating. I’d seen the ads on television the previous weekend and made a mental note to schedule television time with Jerry – which was exactly what I’d forgotten to do.

  “The Miss America Pageant was last night, wasn’t it?”

  “Ding, ding, ding!” Jerry screeched, causing me to involuntarily step back from him, grimacing when my hip brushed against the cabinet.

  “Why do we care about the Miss America Pageant?” Griffin asked.


  “We don’t,” Aidan replied. “They do.”

  “Why do they care about it?”

  “Because … um … I’m not exactly sure,” Aidan admitted. “They’ve watched it every year together for as long as I can remember. They usually get drunk and reenact portions of it. I never paid that much attention … until last night, when I had to watch part of it. The good news is I only had to watch a few minutes before Jerry got disgusted and pouted in the bedroom the rest of the night. Then I got to watch Sports Center.”

  “I’m so sorry, Jerry,” I said, meaning every word. “I didn’t mean to forget. I was in pain … and I was hungry … and I felt like an idiot for hurting myself.”

  “And you think that’s an excuse?”

  I couldn’t remember the last time Jerry was this angry with me. “I … I’m sorry. I don’t know what else you want me to say. Why didn’t you remind me?”

  “I shouldn’t have to remind you!”

  Ugh. I was starting to get a headache. “I’m sorry I forgot about the pageant.”

  “Explain to me why this pageant is so important,” Griffin suggested.

  “We like to watch it and make fun of it every year,” I explained. “We used to watch it with my mom … and then we kept watching it ourselves. We like being snarky and making fun of the talent … and the interview … and the ball gowns.”

  “We especially like it when people fall,” Jerry said, his voice tinny.

  “Jerry, I’m so sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to forget. I got distracted.”

  “You like to watch it to be mean about people?” Griffin was baffled. “If you want to be mean to people go sit on a bench in Royal Oak and people watch for an afternoon. There are thousands of people down there just begging to be made fun of.”

  “No one’s talking to you,” Jerry spat. “You’re the reason my best friend forgot me.”

  “I didn’t forget you, Jerry,” I countered. “I could never forget you. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. No one can take your place. You know that. I just … forgot about the pageant. I was distracted.”

  “What could possibly be so distracting you forgot about our yearly date?”

  Well, that was a loaded question. I couldn’t tell him about my mom coming back from the dead. “I … do you want to know the truth?”

 

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