I push her jeans down over her hips, grab her boy shorts with rough fingers. If I die right now, I’d be content having felt the firmness of her ass beneath my palms. She chuckles, a growl of a laugh, against my neck, and then I’m peeling down her shorts, desperate for her skin, to feel her against me with nothing between us.
When she presses her fingers into me, two of them, three of them, I have never felt so full in my life, or so whole. No words could describe how Grim and I seem to merge together, and when I cry out against her shoulder, it’s because I can’t contain the emotion. We become, in these suspended moments, not Grim and Bella, hearts and mouths, skin and hands, two simple human bodies. We are more than the sum of our parts.
We're newly made, as bound together as rose to thorn.
Chapter 18: The Truth
A sound wakes me.
I’m groggy, my body deliciously sore, and for half a heartbeat, I can’t quite figure out where I am; this certainly isn’t where I fell asleep... But then Grim’s strong arm encircles my torso, the heat of her bringing me back from dreams, the flex of her muscles causing my body to respond, turning toward her like a flower toward the light.
But my brain begins to register a pounding at the door, and my heart pounds just as aggressively as Grim sits up beside me.
When she flicks on the light on her bedside table, I realize that Grim must have carried me up to her room after I fell asleep against her shoulder on the kitchen floor...
Now she rises from the bed, perfectly nude, and I watch the graceful lines of her: the slope of her shoulders, the soft curve of her narrow waist, the perfect curve of her buttocks. My heart skips a beat as she stretches her arms over her head...but I can’t enjoy this moment, not fully.
Because the pounding at the door is getting louder.
“Just a minute.” Grim’s voice is gruff as she tugs on her jeans, throws her shirt on over her shoulders and starts to button it as she crosses quickly to the door. She opens it just a crack, and when she sees who it is, she opens it a little further. “Lucile,” she says, leaning—a long, lovely silhouette—against the door frame. “I’m a little busy—”
But Lucile doesn’t notice her sister’s state of disarray, and she doesn’t notice me on the bed behind her. Her eyes are wide, wild, her black hair frazzled, as if she just got out of bed, too, and she’s shaking her head emphatically. “Grim—Grim, listen to me. It’s Jordan,” she breathes, her voice a low hiss. “He’s gone. I can’t find him anywhere. I’m afraid he’s at a bar, drinking...” Lucile sounds frantic, terrified.
Shaken, I sit up, drawing the white sheet over my breasts. The last time I saw him, Jordan was pretty wasted. If he went back to the bar... Well, I know that Grim doesn’t like drawing attention to the family. Still, I don't understand why Lucile sounds so genuinely panicked. Is she worried that he'll be in an accident? That he might try to drive?
When Grim glances back at me, over her shoulder, I expect her to look annoyed, or angry, but there's fear gleaming in her honey-colored eyes.
She's afraid.
But...of what?
“What time is it?” Grim asks Lucile, raking her fingers through her hair.
“Two in the morning.”
“Fuck.” Grim groans, and then I’m climbing out of bed, wrapping the sheet around me. Lucile doesn’t even look my way as I pad across the floor to stand at Grim's side.
“What’s happening?” I ask, glancing back and forth between them.
Grim curls her fingers softly around my waist, drawing me to her. “We have to go find Jordan,” she says, searching my face.
“We as in you and me, right, Grim?” Lucile snaps. “Bella is going to stay here, right?” She crosses her arms over her chest. “She cannot come with us. We don’t know what state Jordan’s in, and—”
“Bella’s part of the family now.” Grim doesn't look at Lucile when she says this.
She’s staring at me.
There was subtle question mark at the end of her phrase, almost as if she’s asking me for my agreement.
Am I? Am I part of this now?
Do I want to be?
All I know is that Grim makes my heart race, and ache, and bloom...
Whatever is important to her should also be important to me.
She’s worried about her brother—so I’m worried about him, too.
“What can I can do to help?” I ask, tightening my hold on the sheet.
Lucile sneers at me, rolling her eyes, but Grim becomes thoughtful. “Do you want to come with us, Bella?”
“No. No. Absolutely not—” Lucile begins, but when Grim casts her a mild glance, the woman falls silent. Her eyes flash with storms when she glares at me, yet she holds her tongue, doesn’t say another word in protest.
I find it odd that Grim can subdue Lucile with a mere look... But according to Jordan's song, Grim is the family protector, the leader. The...king.
“I'll come,” I say quietly, purposefully avoiding Lucile's stare. “Just let me...get changed?” I wince. It’s obvious that Grim and I have had sex, but if this bothers Lucile (and I suspect it should, since she clearly hates me), she doesn’t show it.
She simply shrugs and begins to jog down the hallway. “I’ll meet you at the front door in five,” she calls over her shoulder.
“We have to hurry.” Grim’s voice is strained as she finishes buttoning her shirt, smoothing the collar. “Please, Bella.”
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. I don't understand why this situation is so dire, but something is obviously very wrong. I drop the sheet and find my dress draped over the footboard. Grim must have carried it up here, along with me...
Wait—did she carry me naked through the building? God, she must have. I blush as I take up my bra and slip and panties and put them all on hurriedly. I shimmy into the dress and then draw my hair into a ponytail with a band I take out of my purse.
Grim, fully dressed now, too, crosses the room to cup the side of my face with her hand, gazing hard into my eyes. I’m not sure what she’s looking for...
“Bella...” Grim starts, faltering. “I...” She closes her eyes, opens them. “What we did—it meant something to me. Something... It was important to me.”
“Me, too.” I place my hand over hers and smile softly.
“I wish we had more time.” Her voice cracks. “Just... Whatever happens, whatever you see, know that...” She clenches her jaw, anguish evident in every line of her face. “Just know that I’m sorry.”
I narrow my brows. “What are you sorry about?”
“I should have told you when I had the chance. When it was up to me. But I have a terrible feeling that—tonight—you’re going to learn the truth. And I can’t control how you learn it. And I can’t tell you now; there’s no time...” She winces, as if in pain.
“Grim, you’re scaring me,” I breathe, tears pricking my eyes. “Are you all right?”
She draws in a deep breath, steps back. “No,” she says decisively. “But you’ll understand why soon enough.”
We walk to the front door in relative silence. Lucile’s waiting there, leaning against the wall, and when Grim tilts her head toward her, Lucile doesn't react, merely stares.
“We can’t leave Rex by himself.” Grim glances down the hallway. “Where is he?”
“In bed, like all other kids his age at two in the morning.” With a surly expression, Lucile crosses her arms. “I'm not going to wake him up to go search for his lush of an uncle. The kid’s got enough problems. Let him sleep. He won’t wake up while we're gone, and this place is locked up tight.”
Grim looks uncertain, but after a moment, she nods, and we step out the door.
Lucile chooses the backseat of the car, leaving me to sit in the front. The air is tense, zinging with apprehension, as we head toward The Pints Hideaway. Grim is gripping the wheel so tightly that her knuckles are white. I place a hand on her leg, hoping to relax her, but her muscles only seems to become more taut, so
I take my hand back and chew, anxiously, on a fingernail.
We arrive a few minutes later, and Lucile doesn’t even wait for Grim to put the car in park. She flies out of her door and runs into the bar. By the time Grim and I join her inside, she's apparently already been through the place.
“He’s not here,” she hisses, her agitated gaze fixed on Grim.
I glance over her shoulder; we should ask the bartender if Jordan has been in tonight—
And then my mouth falls open.
Pam is tending the bar.
I hardly even recognize her. She looks deeply unhappy. She’s wearing a lot of makeup—her mascara is smeared—and this too-tight t-shirt that I've never seen her in before. Her hair has been straightened to within an inch of its life. She hates straightening her hair...
When she glances up from filling the pint glass in her hand, she pauses.
Sees me.
Gapes.
I’m not into the bar scene, and I've never frequented this bar, in particular. It's the local guys' hangout, a public man cave, so I couldn't be less interested.
Besides, Andrew owns it.
This is the last place Pam would ever expect to run into me.
Music is blaring from the speakers, but I still hear the astonishment in Pam's voice as she calls out, “Bella?”
I regard Grim and Lucile with a weak smile. “Five seconds, guys—she might know where Jordan is.” And even though the wounds from our last conversation are still so fresh, still bleeding, I cross the space, take a deep breath, and lean on the bar. “Hey, Pam.”
Her expression of misery deepens. “What are you doing here?” Then she glances past me to Grim; a hint of fear pinches her face.
Is she honestly afraid of Grim?
“I could ask you the same question.”
She winces, swallows. “Just making some extra money. Paul—the old bartender—moved to Stowe, so...”
“Oh. Okay. Well, we’re looking for Jordan. Have you seen him?” I ask quietly.
She considers my question, eyes wide. “I...” Nervous, she licks her lips. “Y-yeah. Andrew was here with him. But they...left.”
“Andrew?” I'd forgotten about Jordan's insistence that his “friend” Andrew was supposed to meet up with him. Sick to my stomach, I clutch the edge of the bar. “You said Andrew hates Grim's family, Pam. Why the hell is he hanging out with Jordan?”
“Look, Andrew would be really pissed at me if he knew I'd told you that much. Bella, you—you’d better go.” She gestures toward the door, where Grim and Lucile are waiting for me, and I take a step backward.
How quickly we can lose the ones we love.
How quickly they can change.
How quickly we can change.
“I’ll see you, Pam. Thanks,” I murmur, and then I’m turning around, marching away, touching my hand to the small of Grim’s back. “Let’s get out of here.”
I don’t speak again until we've left the building and walked back to the car. I draw a deep breath of night air into my lungs. The cold air is helping to clear my head.
“What did she say?” Lucile asks—a little aggressively, her face mere inches away from mine.
“Jordan was here. He left...with Andrew,” I finish miserably.
“Fuck. You’ve got to be kidding me.” Lucile squeezes her eyes shut and fists her hands. “I knew the second that we met him—”
Grim stares at me in stony silence, as if shocked.
“You know what this means, Grim.” Lucile scowls, threading her fingers through her tangled hair. “It's just like before. He’s fallen in with the wrong crowd. Everything's going to happen all over again.”
“Things are different this time,” Grim begins, but Lucile snarls, glances at me.
“Yeah. This time, the consequences are even more dire.”
I glance from one woman to the other, my stomach twisting itself into knots. “What is she talking about? Grim?”
Lucile's eyes are narrowed, her jaw clenched, almost as if she’s daring Grim to tell me—but Grim doesn’t rise to the bait. She regards me with a mournful expression that shatters my heart into tiny pieces. “Bella,” Grim murmurs, and she reaches out, curling her fingers softly around my elbow. “If I tell you the truth, this will all be over. This... Us.” She draws in a ragged breath. “But if I don't tell you, I’m lying to you by omission.”
“We don’t have time for this right now,” Lucile growls, but Grim ignores her sister, and then she’s gazing at me so longingly that—for a heartbeat—I forget to breathe.
“This is your last chance,” Grim whispers, “to not know. If I asked you to go back to Grim Tower, to wait there for us...would you do it?”
“No.”
Grim nods, as if she expected that response from me.
I reach for her hand. “Listen, something’s very wrong, and you’re not telling me what it is, and I know you need my help, but how can I help if I'm so confused? And you... God, you’re so upset, Grim. What kind of a girlfriend would I be if I left you when you're this upset?”
The agony in the set of Grim’s mouth lessens, just for a heartbeat. “You’re my girlfriend?” she whispers, eyes wide.
It’s like a punch to the gut, the uncertainty in her voice.
“If you want me to be. I mean, I want to be.”
The moment is made exponentially more awkward when Lucile laughs, but there isn't a trace of humor in the sound. “You must have missed the memo, Bella,” Lucile smirks, one brow raised. “The King of Roses doesn’t have girlfriends. She never lets anyone get that close to her. It's one-night stands, and good-bye.” She waves at me sarcastically.
I stare at Lucile, anger rising in my throat, but then I realize that her words don't matter. Trembling, I look to Grim and squeeze her hand. “I did get close. Didn’t I?”
Grim’s opening her mouth, poised to speak, but Lucile cuts her off with another snarl. “Do you see what you’ve done to us, Grim? To the whole family? Because Bella’s going to find out now, and then our whole world is going to implode because you allowed yourself to trust a human.”
My head whips around to stare at Lucile. “Human?” I swallow.
And that’s when the world starts to tilt beneath my feet.
Beneath the glare of the streetlamps, Lucile's face is cast in sharp delineations of shadow and light. And in this moment, it looks as if Lucile’s teeth are...not only sharp but, like, long and sharp. They belong in an animal's mouth, not the mouth of a young woman.
I blink, and Lucile turns away, her lips set in a thin line.
Was she just implying that she and Grim...are not human?
I stagger a little on my feet, leaning back on the car for support. “What the hell is going on?”
Grim steps forward then, leans down, brushes her mouth against mine. It’s an odd circumstance for a kiss, but I can taste her desperation, and I answer it with my own. The kiss is long—too long; it feels final.
“Come with me,” Grim murmurs into my ear, taking my hand, and she turns to walk down the street.
We don’t walk far. Looming before us is the dark outline of the Rose Garden Diner, and Grim ducks into the alleyway just beside it. I follow her, perplexed, and Lucile comes after me, probably staring daggers into my back.
It’s only when we’re behind the diner, standing in my favorite childhood hiding place, my mother’s rose bush quiet, asleep, at our feet, that Grim lifts her chin and meets my gaze. She gestures to the rose bush with a stiff hand.
“Our mother loved roses, but she loved them because they were something beautiful in an ugly world, a world that broke her...” Grim winces, pauses, glances to Lucile before looking at me again. “Bella, our mother died protecting us. So that we could stay safe. And before she took her last breath, she asked me to do the same for Jordan and Lucile. To do anything to protect them.
“I swore that I would do whatever it took. But now Jordan—he’s putting us in jeopardy, and I don't know if can keep us safe a
nymore.”
Lucile watches her sister, silent, but she looks miserable; her jaw is working as if she's grinding her teeth.
“Bella.” Grim encloses my hand with both of her hands, and the heat is oddly comforting. “Do you trust me?”
I don’t even have to think: “Yes.”
She arches a brow. “But you don’t have any reason to trust me.”
I tilt my chin up, hold her amber gaze unwaveringly. “I know that you're a good person. I know that I can trust you.”
Grim closes her eyes, bows her head. “Do you remember when Pam called me a beast?’”
“We've been over this. It was a—”
“It upset me because it’s true.”
She’s not joking. I’ve never seen her look more serious. “You mean, you're—I... What do you mean?”
“Just do it,” snaps Lucile, glowering.
Grim rakes her fingers back through her hair. She takes one step away from me, and then another, her shoulders curling before her, sorrow making her face appear too young, too pale.
And then, with a low growl, Grim bends forward.
I stare as her thick, black hair begins to lengthen.
I stare as her arms begin to change. As she starts to take on a grayish hue...
Her arms are growing thinner. Her legs are growing thinner, too, and her back...
No.
No.
No, this can’t be happening.
The qualities that make Grim human start to blur, and something else claims the place of her body, her form twisting in front of me, her clothing tearing, falling away.
It’s not possible.
It’s not possible.
But Grim...
Grim is gone.
She's vanished.
And in her place stands a wolf.
The wolf lifts her snout to me, and she blinks her eyes.
Amber eyes.
Human eyes.
I stumble backwards, lose my balance on the uneven pavement, and I fall, using my hands to catch myself. My bottom hits the ground, and my palms sting. I lift my hands before my eyes; they’re bloody, embedded with gravel.
“I told you she couldn’t take it. Humans never can,” Lucile scoffs dismissively. “Now what're we going to do, Grim? God!”
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