Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“It’s okay. I wasn’t asleep.”
The scent of alcohol hung heavy in the air. It was on his breath, on his clothes, and he was struggling to keep his head up. The sight of him tugged at my heart. I wanted to help him but wasn’t sure how. He tilted his head back and muttered, “I stopped by the bar.”
“I see that.” I noticed some blood on his shirt and more on his knuckles, so I inched a little closer as I asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Grim let out a bitter laugh. “I'm peachy keen.”
“Please tell me you didn’t drive here.”
“Prospect.”
“Well, at least there’s that.” My heart ached at the sight of him in such a state, and I just wanted to get him inside and into bed. I reached out my hand as I said, “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”
“Naa-aah, I’m gooood right here.”
“I’m not leaving you out here alone,” I argued. “Now, come on, and let me help you inside.”
Grim hesitated for a moment but eventually took my hand.
I helped him to his feet, and then together, we made our way back into the house. I closed and locked the door before leading him into the living room. Once we got over to the sofa, he plopped down and grumbled, “You shouldn’t be so nice to me... I don’t deserve it.”
“You deserve it just as much as anyone else would.”
“You’re wrong.” His voice was heavy with emotion as he grumbled. “I have blood on my hands.”
I had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the literal blood on his hands. It was something else altogether. Maybe it was the guy who Steven and his buddies murdered or someone from his past. I hoped he would give me a little more, but all I got was some incoherent muttering. Grim laid back on the pillow and closed his eyes with a sigh. “You should stay away from me. Far, far away.”
“I’m good where I am, thank you.” I knelt and placed my hand on his, slightly squeezing it as I told him, “Now, settle back and sleep it off.”
I started to stand but stopped when I heard him mutter, “Why do you have to be so good? So, so good.”
“No, you’ve got it wrong. I’m not good. I’m nothing. I’m just...”
“No, baby,” he interrupted in barely a whisper, with his breath growing heavier by the second. “You’re everything, and don’t ever let anyone make you think different.”
And with that, his hand dropped to his side, and he passed out cold.
It tugged at my heart to see him look so sweet and vulnerable. It felt wrong to see him at such a moment of weakness, so I covered him with a blanket and headed back to my room. I crawled into bed, and I couldn’t stop myself from wondering what he’d meant when he said he had blood on his hands.
He could’ve been talking about anyone, and that was somewhat unsettling. Don’t get me wrong. I had no misconception about Grim and what he was about. I knew he was a killer. His brothers were, too. I saw that the day they killed my brother, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that his murder was just skimming the surface of the things he’d done.
It was a feeling that hung with me as I drifted off to sleep, and it was still hanging with me the next morning when I got up. Luna was playing quietly with her toys, so I used the opportunity to go check in on Grim. I expected him to still be passed out on the sofa, but when I walked into the living room, there was no sign of him. I checked the kitchen, and he wasn’t there either. I was beginning to think he’d left until I saw that his bedroom door was closed.
He was still there, so I tried to be as quiet as possible as I made my way over to the counter and started making a pot of coffee. I made Luna some breakfast, and she and I spent the next couple of hours trying our best not to wake Grim. It wasn’t easy. It seemed like every noise echoed through the entire house.
Thankfully, he eventually got up and came into the kitchen. He was dressed and no longer reeked of alcohol. I was glad to see that the extra sleep had done him well. “Good morning.”
“More like good afternoon.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right about that.” His brows furrowed as he motioned his head to the end of the counter. “What’s that?”
“It’s your change from the grocery and the receipt.”
“I didn’t ask for the change.”
“I know, but it’s yours and...”
“You’re the one who went to the store,” he argued.
“And?”
“The change is your compensation.”
“There’s over a hundred dollars there.”
“And it’s yours.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Take the damn money, Jenna.”