Page 80 of The Ripper

Although, thinking about it, Grimm didn’t exactly kiss.

He devoured as if he was a ravenous beast, and I had no choice but to surrender to his will, because the more I resisted, the stronger his hunger seemed to become.

“Is that gun registered?” he asked, his voice a low rumble as he looked at the painting that covered the safe.

“Yeah, I have a permit,” I replied, still caught in the memory of his mouth on mine, and I touched my lips with my fingertips.

“I’ll get you another one,” he said, intertwining his fingers with mine. “Come on.”

I nodded and picked up my purse from the floor, then allowed him to pull me along.

Grimm checked the corridor before stepping out, then stood on alert as I locked the door, and kept me shielded behind him until we were on the street. He seemed on guard as he held the door open for me, then quickly crossed to the driver’s side and got in, running his fingers through his hair.

He seemed to be having a conversation with himself, his expression changing a few times before he leaned over my thighs and opened the glove compartment, pulling out a Strike One pistol, which he handed to me along with a box of ammunition.

“Carry it with you at all times,” he said as he started the car and drove down the road. “Do you know how to use it?”

I raised an eyebrow at him and wrapped my fingers around the grip, loaded the magazine, then threw it in my purse while rolling my eyes.

“Yes,” I replied dryly. “Look, I really think it was someone trying to rob me, there’s no point getting worked up about it.”

I would have gone flying through the windshield if I didn’t have my seatbelt on when he slammed on the brakes, stopping the car on the side of the road.

He turned to me in a flash, his palm wrapping around my throat, lightly squeezing as his eyes bore into mine.

“I don’t think it’s a coincidence that on the day I kiss you in front of an entire hospital, someone magically rattles your door handle,” his grip softened, but he didn’t let me go as he pressed his index fingers to my pulse. “Did you walk home?”

I nodded.

“Did you notice anything unusual?”

I thought about it for a second, then shook my head.

“No.”

“You’re moving in with me,” he said confidently, and I frowned.

“Whatever makes you think that.” I rolled my eyes and slid back and forth in my seat, then I slowly pried his hand from around my throat and reached for his pack of cigarettes and lighter.

“I’m capable of protecting myself, Grimm.”

“Sure, you are. That’s why you dated all those idiots who would have hurt you if they had the chance,” he bumped his head against the headrest, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Same could be said about you,” I whispered.

I lit the cigarette, then blew the smoke and opened the window.

His eyes snapped open, his entire body tensing for a moment at my comment, then going slack.

“I wouldn’t lay hands on you, not in the same way, and you know it,” his tone softened.

“I know,” I sighed. “I’m still not moving in with you.”

“Your apartment is not safe anymore,” he said matter-of-factly. “Mine is a fortress, you’re safe there.”

“You’re exaggerating,” I said.

Grimm took the pack off my thighs and lit one for himself, then he clutched the steering wheel with one hand, the cigarette hanging between his lips as he pushed his other hand through his hair, gripping it in his fist at the back, his knuckles white as he started the engine again, and I sighed, relenting.

---