Page 136 of The Ripper

He would have died for me, just as I would have died for him.

A small woman came up behind him.

Her hair was short and pinned in a bun, dressed in the tightest clothes possible and covered in all different kinds of weapons, from knives and guns, to the two Twin Sai blades that were holstered in an X on her back.

I didn’t give her much importance, but a wave of jealousy washed over me when she took her stance to his left.

“I hate to interrupt this touching staring contest, but we’re dead if these guys start shooting again.”

I scowled at her for a moment, then turned my back to Grimm and straightened, raising my chin in defiance.

“If you want to shoot him, that bullet will have to go through me.”

“I can shoot him in the head,” my father wrinkled his nose in disgust, scrutinizing the man that raised above me like a shadow.

“You wouldn’t get the chance,” I answered, so sure of myself. “He found me,” I pronounced each word individually, highlighting every letter.

“I’ll hide you better next time,” he narrowed his eyes without allowing the hatred towards Grimm to wash off his face.

But I could see the fight leaving him. I could see that he wasn’t going to pull the trigger, not necessarily because he didn’t want it, but because he knew that the second that gun went off, he would lose me forever, this time without any chance of forgiveness.

“I love him,” my tone softened, and I stepped towards him as I felt the blood slowly running down my back. “I love him the same way mom loved you, and if my love for him would one day kill me, then so be it, but don’t take away my chance at happiness just because you’re afraid that history will repeat itself, please,” I begged.

Grimm caved first, throwing his weapon somewhere to his right before embracing me in his arms, careful not to touch my wound, and the warmth he enveloped me in made all the pain inside dissipate. I felt the kiss he pressed to the top of my head as my father exhaled a long breath, his hand trembling on the gun as he finally allowed his tears to fall, then he lowered his weapon and let it crash at his feet.

“You have to be seen by a doctor, right now,” he said as he turned on his heels, then left without giving us a second glance, gesturing for the men to wrap it up.

I breathed out in relief, watching as the guards scattered, rushing to put out the fire and clean up the remains of the fence.

All the weight I carried on my shoulders crumbled to the ground, and I turned to Grimm with my heart in my palm, ready to return it to him.

“We have got to stop meeting like this,” I whispered, and a huge smile spread over his face, his eyes returning to that globe thistle blue, regaining their warmth.

“We will never meet again,Snezhinka.” He cupped my face in his big palms, tears running down his face. “Because I won’t ever let you out of my sight again, not even for a fucking second.”

I sobbed, wrapping my palms around his wrists, then touching his chest, his neck and finally, his face. I blinked rapidly, allowing my hands to fall back down to his bullet-proof vest, pulling at it.

“You’re here,” I cried. “You’re really here.”

My eyes burned, my heart burned, my whole being burned. The adrenaline drained out of me, leaving a puddle of emotions behind, and I sobbed as I cupped his face again, pushing back the hair that had stuck to his sweat.

“I’m here,” he whispered as he leaned down, his breath fanning over my face for a second before his lips crashed down on mine.

*

We were in the infirmary, where I was seated in a chair, watching as the medic finished stitching up Grimm’s leg, who was now only wearing boxers and a T-shirt, the rest of his clothes sitting in a pile at the foot of the medical bed.

He was looking at me as if he wanted to eat me alive, and that only intensified the pressure inside me.

I hadn’t forgotten how intense his gaze was, but its effect on me had started to cloud, and right now, he was doing everything in his power to remind me.

“Try to keep strain to a minimum in the next few days and both of you should be alright,” the doctor said, stuttering his words because his English wasn’t strong.

“Prosto uydi otsyuda, chtoby ya mog dotronut’sya do svoyey zhenshchiny[22],” Grimm rasped, his voice a low, almost growly tone.

I tried to stop my giggle, but I couldn’t, and my family’s doctor looked at Grimm as if he had just threatened him with death.

“Ne nado yego tak pugat’[23],” I scolded, but I was sure he could hear the amusement in my voice.

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