Grim Reunion (Aisling Grimlock Book 4)

by Amanda M. Lee

  “Fine job,” Dad said, beaming. “I hope you popped him a good one.”

  “It was a nice shot,” Cillian said, preening under Dad’s compliment.

  “Why does Cillian get a pat on the back for his fight and I get your patented sigh?” I asked.

  “Because Cillian fought to protect you. You fought because you like to fight,” Dad countered.

  “Angelina called Jerry a fairy again,” I protested.

  “Well then, I suppose, fine job to you, too,” Dad said. “That girl, I have no idea why she’s so unlikable. She should let high school bygones go and focus on her future.”

  “No one wants to focus on their future when they have a pimp, Dad,” I deadpanned.

  Dad didn’t want to smile yet couldn’t help himself. “You really are my favorite today,” he said, chuckling. “I had the chef change the dinner menu when I heard about your arrest. We’re having steak and lobster tails.”

  “Yum,” Cillian and I said in unison.

  “I thought you might like that,” Dad said, herding us toward the door. “We should leave now. I had Redmond pick up your final charge of the day. He wasn’t happy about it, but when I told him about the fight he was more upset he missed that than the extra work.”

  I reached to push the door open and took an involuntary step back when Griffin strode inside. I smiled when I saw him, and then shrank closer to my father when I got a gander at the murderous expression on his face.

  “You,” Griffin seethed, extending a finger. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

  “Uh-oh,” Cillian muttered. “Somebody’s in trouble.”

  “How could you tell him about this?” I turned my accusatory eyes on Dad. “He’s going to yell at me now. Isn’t losing a fight to Angelina punishment enough?”

  “I did not tell him,” Dad shot back.

  “You didn’t technically lose the fight,” Cillian pointed out. “In fact, you held your own quite well, given the circumstances. You couldn’t move your left arm but you still yanked a huge hank of hair out of her head. I especially liked it when you started screeching about her stuffing her bra and asking for a lighter.”

  Despite the banter, Griffin’s expression remained grim.

  “If Dad didn’t call you, how did you hear about this?” I asked, reluctant to hear the answer.

  “Well, you see, quite a few people know the name of my girlfriend,” Griffin answered, his tone clipped. “You’re hard to forget, and your name stands out. So, when everyone started laughing about the report regarding two women calling each other ‘slutbags’ and ‘skanks,’ and someone described one of the women as ‘a dark-haired hottie with black hair with white streaks’ I had a feeling it might be you.”

  “Oh, no,” I said, my hand flying to my mouth. “Does everyone in your precinct know?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, reaching for his hand and frowning when he took a step away from me.

  “Look at it this way, Ais, at least they think you’re a hottie,” Cillian offered. He always was my “glass half full” brother. That was little comfort now.

  “I’m so sorry, Griffin,” I said, my eyes filling with tears. “I … it got out of hand.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “It’s not her fault,” Dad said, taking me by surprise. “Angelina and John Anderson showed up at lunch, and Anderson tried to lift Aisling’s scepter. When she tried to stop him he threw her into a table and Cillian jumped on him. Then Angelina called Jerry a fairy again and … well … that’s really uncalled for.”

  “You’re excusing this behavior?” Griffin was incredulous.

  “My daughter is loyal to a fault,” Dad answered. “I’m proud of that. Does her mouth get away from her? Yes. Should she learn to stop throwing drinks on people and pulling hair? Yes. Still, that doesn’t change the fact that she’s loyal.”

  Griffin blew out a frustrated sigh and turned back to me. When he saw my watery eyes his expression softened. “Come here, Trouble,” he grumbled, pulling me in for a hug. “Are you okay?”

  I mutely nodded, afraid I’d burst into tears if I said anything.

  “She’ll have another bruise on her lower back and her pride is hurt because she believes Angelina won the fight, but otherwise she live to fight another day, I’m certain,” Dad said.

  Griffin petted the back of my head as he rocked me. “You and I are going to have a talk about starting fights in public places,” he said, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “I understand standing up for Jerry – I really do – but you can’t always go after Angelina with your fists.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I know you are,” Griffin muttered. “Just … if you’re going to throw down with her, do it in Oakland or Macomb County. Don’t do it in Detroit. That’s all I ask.”

  Dad snorted. “Oh, you are so whipped, boy,” he said, shaking his head. “You came in here with a full head of steam and had every intention of dressing her down until you were hoarse. You took one look at that sad face of hers and completely crumbled. It’s so … pathetic.”

  “Says the man who is rewarding her for getting arrested with surf and turf,” Cillian interjected.

  “No one asked you, Cillian,” Dad snapped, causing Griffin to laugh as he kissed my forehead.

  Griffin finally pulled back and scanned my face. When he was satisfied I wasn’t going to burst into tears, he turned to Dad. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but where is Angelina?”

  “Still waiting to get bailed out,” I crowed. “Her mother was at a spa in Ann Arbor. She won’t be here for hours. I heard Angelina complaining to her cell mates.”

  “And what about John Anderson?”

  I shrugged. “The boys were in another section of the station.”

  “I didn’t see him while I was being processed,” Cillian said. “I have no idea where he is or who is bailing him out.”

  “If you guys got civil infractions, why were you processed at all?” Griffin challenged.

  “Because they were going to be charged with misdemeanors but I called in a favor,” Dad supplied. “And, before you ask, I have no intention of telling you who is performing that favor. It’s a private matter.”

  “Judge Peters,” Cillian and I said in unison, causing Dad to scowl.

  “Judge Andrew Peters?” Griffin asked, furrowing his brow. “I didn’t know you were friends with the judge.”

  “Dad is friends with everyone,” I said, reaching for Griffin’s hand.

  He glanced down at me as I linked his fingers with mine. “What’s wrong with you? Are you more hurt than you’re letting on?”

  “No,” I answered, shaking my head. “It’s just … um … .”

  “She’s really sorry and she’s worried you’re still angry with her,” Cillian offered. “Let her off the hook or she’ll be a pouty mess all night. No one wants that on surf and turf night.”

  Griffin pursed his lips as he regarded me. “I’m a little angry,” he said, causing Dad to shake his head and make a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. “I love you, though, and a fight with Angelina won’t change that. No more fights in Detroit, though. I’m not joking about that.”

  I licked my lips and nodded. “Okay.”

  “We can look at furniture while eating ice cream in bed tonight if that makes you feel better,” Griffin added.

  “Will you rub my lower back instead? It’s sore.”

  “Yes,” Griffin said, grinning.

  “Whipped,” Dad said, moving toward the door. “I can make sure they get home if you have something to finish up.”

  “I’m good for the day,” Griffin said. “I … .” He broke off, narrowing his eyes as the door between the lobby and hallway opened to allow John Anderson entrance. “I guess someone posted his bail, too.”

  Dad turned and focused on Anderson, who seemed oblivious to our presence until he collected his belongings from the woman behind the bullet-proof glass and turned toward the door. He to
ok a shaky step back when he saw the four of us.

  “You must be the man who tried to steal from my daughter,” Dad said, his hands clenched at his sides as he moved closer to Anderson. “Do you want to explain why you did that?”

  “I think there must be some sort of misunderstanding,” Anderson hedged, darting a worried look at Cillian and Griffin. “I did not steal from your daughter. She must’ve lost her … magic wand … and then blamed it on me.”

  “Yes, that sounds just like me,” I drawled.

  “I’m not sure why you waited here for me,” Anderson said. “I’m not a thief, though. This was a misunderstanding, plain and simple.”

  “I didn’t wait for you,” Dad countered. “That was a happy coincidence. While you’re here, though, I would be remiss if I didn’t take this opportunity to warn you away from my daughter.”

  “And your sons,” Cillian added.

  “You look like you handled yourself well,” Dad said, snickering as he took in Anderson’s blackening eye. “Stay away from my daughter. If you don’t, I have three more just like Cillian at home. Each of them would love to adjust your behavior at some time.”

  Anderson squared his shoulders in an attempt to pretend he was braver than he was, but the dark look on Dad’s face was enough to shrivel the courage of much bolder men. “I think you’re mistaken about my intentions toward your daughter, sir.”

  “Really?” Dad was unmoved. “Did you send her flowers? Did you throw her into a table?”

  “Sir, she jumped on me, and in my attempt to dislodge her, she accidentally fell into the table,” Anderson argued.

  “That’s such a load of crap,” I interjected. “He stole my … wand … and then he tried to run away with it.”

  “And she pulled a woman’s hair and called her a number of filthy names,” Anderson pointed out. “I don’t see you worrying about that, Mr. Grimlock.”

  “Trust me. The names Angelina and Aisling have called each other throughout the years have been much more crass than those they spouted today,” Dad said. “I read the report. They were fairly tame this afternoon, if I do say so myself. I’m not worried about Angelina and Aisling.

  “I am, however, worried about you,” he continued. “I want to make things very clear where you’re concerned, Mr. Anderson, if that’s really your name. If you even look at my daughter once more … if you approach her … if you wink at her … if you even smile at her … I will unleash all four of my sons to do whatever they want, including hiding your body.”

  I thought Dad was done, but I was wrong.

  “And, if that’s not enough to scare you off, the cop my daughter is moving in with will remove your head if you even think of opening your mouth in Aisling’s general vicinity,” Dad added. “She’s well covered. You can be certain of that. If you approach her again, you’ll have all of us to answer to, and I can promise it won’t be pretty.”

  If I didn’t know my father so well, I’d be terrified.

  “I hope we understand each other, Mr. Anderson?” Dad asked.

  Anderson gulped and nodded.

  “Fine,” Dad said, his expression shifting from murderous to happy as he turned to us. “Who wants surf and turf?”

  I guess that was the end of that … for now.

  20

  Twenty

  “Where’s my surf and turf?” I looked around the sitting room expectantly.

  Dad poured two glasses of bourbon at the drink cart and handed one of them to me before moving to his chair. “Dinner is in twenty minutes, young lady,” he said. “It will be ready when it’s ready.”

  I made a face. “I didn’t get to eat lunch.”

  “Whose fault is that?” Braden challenged.

  “Angelina’s.”

  Redmond snorted as he sat next to Barbara on the couch across from Griffin and me. “I’m sorry I missed that,” he said. “I’m really sorry I didn’t get a chance to beat the crap out of this John Anderson guy. Watching you pull Angelina’s hair out would’ve been fun, though.”

  “I’ll think ahead and have someone video it next time,” Cillian said. “This time I was too caught up making sure Anderson didn’t walk off with the scepter.”

  “Why do you think he wanted it?” Barbara asked. Because she worked at the main Michigan reaping office we were allowed to talk business in front of her. Her appearances at the manor had been less frequent since Mom returned. I didn’t blame Barbara for being uncomfortable, and I was too frightened to bring it up to Dad. “He had to know what it was for, right?”

  “He could’ve just wanted it because he thought it was worth money,” Cillian answered. “My guess is that’s not what was going on, though. He seemed determined to walk out of the restaurant with it.”

  “I’m more interested in how he managed to show up at the same restaurant as the two of you,” Griffin said, rubbing his hand over my knee as I snuggled next to him. “That’s way too much of a coincidence, especially after Angelina and Aisling had it out yesterday.”

  “That was on purpose, though,” I reminded him. “Jerry and I were following Angelina. The odds of us running into her were much higher because we were being sneaky.”

  “Obviously not that sneaky,” Braden interjected. “She caught you.”

  “Only because Jerry distracted me with talk of The Facts of Life,” I argued. “That’s on him.”

  “Thanks, Bug,” Jerry said, breezing into the room with Aidan and fixing me with a dark look. “I’m glad to see you’re not blaming that whole fiasco on me or anything.”

  I pursed my lips. I hate getting caught when I’m trying to weasel out of trouble. “I didn’t say you were to blame,” I countered. “I merely said you distracted me. You always distract me. That’s how wonderful your personality is.”

  Jerry blew me an air kiss before moving to the drink cart. “Thank you, Bug.”

  “She’s sucking up,” Braden protested. “Can’t you see that?”

  “I’m not stupid,” Jerry replied. “I just happen to like the way she sucks up.”

  “Me, too,” Griffin said, poking my side. “Do you want to tell me how wonderful my personality is?”

  “I was thinking of showing you later,” I said.

  “Don’t make me get the hose,” Dad threatened, shaking his head. “I went out of my way to get you surf and turf after your ordeal, and this is the way you show your gratitude?”

  “I was going to show him by writing a poem,” I lied.

  Cillian barked out a raucous laugh. “Oh, I can hear it now,” he said, pressing his hand to his heart. “Roses are red, violets are blue, I got in a hair-pulling contest, now I’m going to hop on you.”

  Almost everyone in the room guffawed, my father being the lone holdout. “I will give Aisling your lobster if you’re not careful, Cillian,” Dad said.

  “No, you won’t,” Cillian argued. “I punched John Anderson and protected Aisling. We both know you’re going to reward me for that.”

  Dad shrugged. He was caught and he knew it.

  “Do we have any idea why this John Anderson guy is so fixated on Aisling?” Braden asked. “It can’t be her personality.”

  I stuck out my tongue and blew a raspberry for Braden’s benefit. “I am both witty and wise.”

  “And pretty,” Jerry added, settling next to me. “She’s my beautiful Bug.”

  “I see you two are completely and totally in love with one another again,” Braden said. “That’s not annoying or anything.”

  “We’re going to a spa this weekend,” Jerry said. “Aisling is getting her butt buffed and I’m getting a massage.”

  “I’m getting a massage, too,” I said. “My back freaking hurts.”

  “I’m going to rub your back when we’re alone tonight,” Griffin said. “I’ll make you feel better.”

  “I think she needs a real massage instead of one that includes five minutes of rubbing and then twenty minutes of … the other kind of rubbing,” Jerry offered.


  “Jerry!” Dad barked, leaning forward. “Stop that right now.”

  “I was trying to help,” Jerry protested.

  “Twenty minutes?” Griffin furrowed his brow. “I’m pretty sure I should be insulted.”

  “Don’t worry,” I said, patting his knee. “You’re going to have to rub me a lot longer than five minutes tonight. I’m really sore. That will drag things out.”

  “Aisling!” Dad’s benevolent mood was souring rapidly.

  Thankfully for Dad, things couldn’t spiral much further out of control because the butler picked that moment to appear in the doorway, and he looked … pained.

  “What now?” Dad asked.

  “Your guest has arrived, sir.”

  “Again? I told you not to let that woman in my house,” Dad bellowed. “She has some nerve showing up here.”

  “I love you, too, Mr. Grimlock,” Angelina huffed as she pushed past the butler and stormed into the room. “Surprise!”

  “Someone get the gun,” I ordered, struggling to get to my feet. “I’ll shoot her. You guys can bury the body.”

  “Stay still, Tiger,” Griffin ordered. “You’re already a walking disaster. If she needs a good hair-pulling, I’ll hold her down and let Jerry do it.”

  “That would be great,” Jerry said, clapping.

  “Fairy, no one is talking to you,” Angelina spat.

  “That did it.” For some reason I could not force myself up from the couch. My back screamed in pain, and Griffin refused to help me because he didn’t want to see another round of “you’re a slutbag” so close to dinner.

  “Angelina, if you cannot speak to Jerry with respect you will have to leave this house,” Dad intoned. “I’ve never cared for you, and my dislike grows daily. You’re a horrid individual, not fit for the company of others.”

  As far as insults go, it wasn’t Dad’s finest effort. “And you’re a slutbag with herpes,” I added.

  “Oh, my,” Barbara said, rubbing the back of her neck. “Are they always like this?”

  “Unfortunately,” Dad said. “Angelina, why are you here?”