Page 84 of Brutal Savior

I splutter into a laugh. It’s a good job Quinn didn’t hear that. I’d never have heard the end of it. “I couldn’t bring her to visit—there are rules about that sort of thing here—so I didn’t want to mention it. But at least you can get to know her whilst you’re here. Shall I get her over for breakfast?”

“Of course!” The news has brightened him up, and there’s a twinkle in his eye that spells trouble. “Bring her in.”

Ten minutes later, I’ve ordered us a full English fry up from the kitchen and collected Quinn. When we reach the door, she stops, staring at it nervously. I grip her hand. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s stupid,” she mutters.

“No, it’s not. Tell me.”

She glances up at me. “I’ve never done a ‘meet the parents’ thing. I don’t know what’s supposed to happen.”

Never? That’s an interesting conversation for another day, but not for the corridor outside Grandad’s room. I squeeze her hand. “You’ll be fine. Come on.”

The strangeness of the situation isn’t lost on me. She’s not my girlfriend; she’s my captive. Why is she nervous about making a good impression on my family? She is, though, and I can only take that as a good sign.

We enter. Grandad sits at the table, looking lost without a newspaper to page through—his usual breakfast routine. The kitchen delivered a huge spread while I was collecting Quinn, and the table is covered with enough eggs, bacon, toast, sausages, and black pudding to feed ten men.

Grandad blinks as he takes in Quinn, and I know she’s not what he was expecting. My previous girlfriends were much more conventional. Natural hair and classy outfits. By comparison,Quinn is a tub of paint thrown against a wall, all noise and color and movement.

He starts to get to his feet, and I wince as Quinn steps forward. “Oh no, it’s okay. Don’t get up.”

A bad start. He ignores her, stands, and gives her a stern glare. “Look, love, I’m old, but I’m not bloody decrepit. I’ll stand when a lady enters the room until the day I fucking die.”

Quinn looks between Grandad and me, eyes wide. “Well, I can see where Jacob gets his attitude from. I’m Quinn. It’s lovely to meet you.”

Grandad’s mustache twitches, a sign he’s holding back a smile. “James, but you can call me Jim. Everyone does. Pleased to meet you too. It would have been nice to know you existed before now, but I can’t expect the moon on a stick, can I?”

“With Jacob? Definitely not. Do you know he was so busy with work he forgot my birthday? It was last week, and he never even got me a card.”

Oh, the little minx. Grandad turns on me, eyes hard. I can feel his disappointment sizzling in the air. All the strict lessons he ever gave me in the proper way to treat a lady, wasted. Good job he’ll never know by how much.

Quinn and Grandad both glare at me. In one sentence, I’ve become their common enemy. “I taught you better than that, son. You’ll make it up to this young lady.”

“Oh, that’s a great idea!” Quinn sits, and Grandad follows suit.

I park myself opposite Grandad and load my plate with a sigh. “And how does the young lady want me to do that?”

Quinn curls a strand of hair around her finger, and her lips twitch as she tries to stay serious. So much for her being nervous. “I’ll think about it. But anyway, Jim, dish the dirt. You must have some really embarrassing stories about Jacob when he was a kid. I want to hear them all.”

For a second, I think she’s taken the joke too far and Grandad will react badly. But he studies her as if checking for malice, then smiles.

“Did he ever tell you about the time he brought the class hamster home for the weekend? Biscuits, it was called, and it was a nasty little thing. Vicious. Mind you, I would be too if I had twenty-five kids grabbing at me all day long.”

Quinn leans forward in her seat, enraptured. “What happened?”

“Well, he let it out for a run, but the silly bastard had half a muesli bar in his pocket. Bloody thing must have smelled it and shot up his trouser leg like a rocket. He screamed the fucking house down.”

Quinn laughs, a very unladylike snort, and it sets Grandad off too. He covers his mouth with his hand and chuckles, eyes bright and happy. Happier than I could have imagined him being, given the circumstances.

My heart warms, and a smile touches my lips even though their laughter is at my expense. Quinn is magic. In just a few words, she shook Grandad out of his gloomy mood and had him smiling.

I wish things could be different. That Grandad could visit me here and Quinn and I could go out into the world like normal people. I’m outside much more than most Brothers, so I’ve never really chafed at the restrictions before.

Watching Quinn and Grandad laughing, a tiny part of me questions if all the Brotherhood offers is worth the sacrifices.

“That’s amazing! What else? Come on now, Jim, don’t hold out on me. What about when he was a teenager? Did he do anything really dumb for a girl? Or what about the first time he got drunk?”

Grandad’s eyes light up. “Oh, you wouldn’t believe that, love. We were on holiday down in Cornwall and…”

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