Page 3 of One Night with Her Grumpy Orc

Chapter 2

Grev

Of all the fuckingbonkers things to have happened to me. Today. It had to be this. A runaway snowplow truck hitting my favorite place in town. Threatening to take out my favorite person in town.

I’ve never even shaken hands with Betty Pallson, and now I’m on top of her, protecting her from the avalanche of books and wall that rained down on her.

Her body is so soft, and I’m close enough that her vanilla and pear scent permeate down to the depths of my soul. Gods, her glasses are crooked on her straight nose, and the temptation to straighten them almost gets me, but my giant hand in her face might scare her.

What used to be the front window of the library is now a giant gash of emptiness and shambles. There is no blizzard. No parking lot. No adorable town. Just the weird blue-grey light that comes from giant piles of snow blocking us in. Icy air floods into the library from the missing window, extinguishing any heat that was here. But there’s no way out.

The snowplow truck revs outside, the tires spinning in the slick snow. Stuck. Against the main entrance to the library. There’s pounding on the door. I assume it’s the plow driver.

It takes several tries to get Betty to wake up. Her breath is shallow, almost a pant. It concerns me—maybe I crushed her when I pulled her out of the way? Eventually, after almost yelling her name and shaking her, Betty groans and her eyes flutter open. Thank the gods she’s awake.

“Let me help you up,” I say as I grunt and stand, crunching part of the wall and a children’s fairytale book under my boots.

Reaching out a hand, she grasps mine, and I marvel at how small and delicate it is, and I pull her up. Wobbly on her legs, I guide her to her desk so she can sit, dusting off her shoulders and pulling bits of debris out of her hair. Her cheeks are a deep rosy color that trails down her neck. She must be colder than I thought she was.

The pounding continues. A muffled “Hello?” comes through the door. I shout back and leave her to talk to the door.

“My truck is good and stuck. Everyone okay in there?” I recognize Matt’s voice. He sounds shaken.

“Yeah. Betty and Grev. The power’s out. Can you call for help?”

“Cell tower is down. I’ll see what I can do.” I wait for more information, but he’s gone. I suppose he’s even colder out in the weather than we are in here.

Before I turn my attention to Betty, who I want to inspect for injuries and wrap her up in the thickest blankets in front of a fire, I assess our reality. Blizzard conditions outside. Power is out, as are cell phones. And it’s just the two of us in this building with a gaping hole.

“Grev, did the snowplow run through the library?” Betty asks, shivering. Her teeth chatter, the sound making my own hurt. I bring her my coat off the rack and set it over her shoulders. I don’t see hers. No wall in the library is a big problem. Bending down, I pick up the books and make stacks of them on the other side of the room, away from the snow.

“It did. Matt is hopefully going for help. Can you try the landline to see if we can call for help? How do you feel?” When she doesn’t answer me, I pause and turn to look at her. Betty stares at me, her eyes wide behind her still crooked glasses, her pink mouth in a small o shape.

“That was a lot of words,” she finally says. Maybe she hit her head harder than I thought.

“The books will be okay,” I reassure her. Clear my throat to get rid of the grumble that I always get in the cold.

“Not the books. You. You said a lot of words.” Other than her cheeks, that are still red with more than just the cold, she seems to be fine. I go back to stacking books and contemplating how to cover the hole so the snow doesn’t continue to come in.

After sliding two bookshelves through the debris and standing them in front of what used to be the window, I make my way back to Betty, who is shivering under her coat and hat. There’s a steady whistling as the wind makes its way through the bookshelves. Snow streaks across the carpet, piling up a bit where the bookshelves meet. Maybe it will pile high enough to block the wind.

“Any luck with the phone?” I ask as I clap my hands together to rid them of dust and walk back to check on her.

She shakes her head no.

“Are you injured?” I kneel before her and take her petite hands in mine. They’re ice cubes.

“No, I don’t think so. Just cold and surprised.” Her eyes shine, even in the barely there light. Deep brown pools full of knowledge. Sniffing, I don’t smell blood.

“What about your back door?” Why didn’t I think of this before? Betty blushes deeper. Coughing, I clear my throat again from the grumble. I jump up and make my way to the emergency exit of the library. The knob turns, but it doesn’t open. Throwing my weight against it, it doesn’t budge.

“Windward side,” Betty’s voice is small behind me. There’s a scent of fear on her that wasn’t there a minute ago.

“What do you mean?”

“The blizzard is coming from the east. This is the east side of the building. The snow is packed against the door and windows on this side.”

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