Page 20 of Looking Grimm

“Nash didn’t…” My throat tightened around a lump of unwanted emotion. It was all I could do to tag on pitifully, “Please let me in.”

“No.”

There were probably security cameras in this building. Odds were good I’d already been seen skulking through thelobby and, as Briggs had pointed out, I drove a flashy car. But those were problems to be dealt with later. For now, I needed somewhere to hide. Judging by Ripley’s staunch refusal, I would have to keep looking.

I was about to give up when a novel thought occurred. Spinning around, I pounded on the door again and shouted. “Maggie! You wanna play beauty parlor?”

The silence was followed by a high-pitched squeal. I heard a scuffle inside the room and Ripley’s low notes of argument before the door swung inward. Maggie stood in the frame, flapping her hands and bouncing. She lurched forward and threw her arms around me, leaving me looking over her shoulder at Ripley’s sour expression.

“You insufferable ass.” He stepped aside, then extended his arm toward the shadowy hotel room. “Get in before someone sees you.”

Maggie led me by the hand to the sitting area where I’d met with Ripley two days prior. Her pastel hair swished across her shoulders as she sat me down then looked around for what I couldn’t possibly guess. Finally, she held up a finger, then darted off to the bathroom.

Ripley wandered to the windows where the curtains were drawn. He pulled back one side and peered out into the parking lot, checking for patrol vehicles, if I were to guess.

The sound of Maggie rooting around in the bathroom cabinets was the only reprieve from an otherwise oppressive quiet until I said, “I didn’t kill that investigator, Rip.”

Tugging the curtain closed, he turned to face me. “I believe you.”

“You do?” The frog in my throat caused my voice to croak.

“Reluctantly.”

I frowned. “Then why didn’t you let me in?”

He went to the bedside table where his phone was plugged into the charging cable. Worry struck that he might turn me in, or that Holland would somehow track him, too, or any number of equally unlikely scenarios. Instead, he scrolled idly while he spoke.

“Imay believe you, but you wouldn’t be here if anyone else did. You had the sense to draw the investigators away from the Bitters’ End. I would ask why I’m not due the same courtesy, but I assume it’s because we aren’t shagging.”

His statement sounded scathing, but his accompanying expression was almost sympathetic.

It stabbed at my wounded heart, that blackened, dying thing I wondered if I would be better off without.

But, yes. I’d done what little I could to protect Nash. The reason wasn’t as simple as Ripley made it out to be. In fact, my feelings toward Nash had gotten progressively more complicated of late. It was definitely an oversimplification when I said, “I care about him.”

Ripley nodded. “I believe that, too.”

Maggie emerged from the bathroom toting a pink and purple Caboodle case. She rushed to sit on the loveseat beside me and arrange her supplies on the small, low table. Turning, she pressed her knees into mine, eliminating any hope I might have had for personal space.

From the bedside, Ripley snorted. “Better you than me, mate.”

“You’re just jealous I wear braids better,” I quipped.

Maggie tsked at me in warning, then grabbed the sides of my face and fixed my head level with hers. With no otherrecourse, I clasped my hands in my lap and stared at her, finding her blood-red eyes suddenly pensive.

Most of the time, the zombie girl was semi-lucid, only vaguely aware of the world around her and the people in it. Now, though, she seemed intent, pushing the mess of blond locks off my forehead while holding my face steady. The tenderness in her gaze stunned me, as did the soothing way she finger-combed my hair.

The eye contact grew uncomfortable, and I tried to pull away as tears welled up. Maggie held me firm, unblinking, and with a growing sort of sadness that fueled mine.

In the long, quiet moment, fragile tethers broke and released a wave of emotion. The sob that had been lodged in my throat shook me as tears streaked my cheeks and puddled in Maggie’s hands.

She cooed a soft sound and pulled me in, kissing the top of my head as I sagged against her. There was no warmth in her body, but I didn’t mind. I clung to her while she stroked my hair and face.

Neither of us pulled away even when Ripley said, “You can stay for a week or until you do something unfathomably stupid. Whichever comes first.”

“Okay,” I mumbled into Maggie’s shirt.

I sniffled and turned aside to wipe my nose on my sleeve. Ripley stood a few feet away, fussing with his phone again. After a few seconds, he pointed the screen at me. Through the blur, I could barely make out a text thread with a new message sent from N.N.

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