Page 28 of Looking Grimm

Piecing together what he’d first explained to me in Thorngate with comments he’d made since then added context to the story. He’d told me he betrayed the Bloody Hex for Donovan and me, but I’d failed to acknowledge the full meaning of that before now.

Ripley stood up to Grimm for me. Risked his life for me. Went to prison to rot for me. But nothing changed.

I pinned the cigarette between my lips and held my hands against the dashboard vent blasting hot air. “Sorry it didn’t work out,” I mumbled.

The apology was more for his loss than mine. I was done pitying myself for shit that went wrong years ago.

Ripley glanced over. “It’s not too late.” He seemed to rethink before adding, “For you.”

Rolling my eyes, I plucked the cigarette out of my mouth and twisted in my seat to face him. “Rip, we just collared and gagged a couple guys in a hotel room. Iamgoing to torture them. The Capitol thinks I’m killing investigators, and I have a price on my head again. Itistoo late for me. But not because of you.”

His face clouded with disappointment that made me regret my words.

“It means something that you tried,” I said in the growing quiet. “You might be the only one who did.”

I pumped the brakes, then shifted the Porsche into drive. Silence consumed both of us as we rolled out from under the cover of the carwash and headed back to the hotel.

After insisting on curbsideservice, Ripley told me to park the Porsche a few blocks away and walk.

I was finishing off my second cigarette by the time I wandered up to the unmanned side entrance of the Elite Inn & Suites and was surprised to find Ripley waiting. More than that, I was surprised he had company. Another man stood across from him, a full head taller and twice as broad. If the lumberjack flannel shirt hadn't given him away, his copper orange hair made him unmistakable.

“Oh, shit,” I sputtered and stopped immediately in my approach.

With no cars on the road nearby and no one milling around this time of night, what I’d meant to be a whisper drew both men’s attention.

Ripley turned toward me and scowled. “There’s that deer in headlights look every man wants to see on their lover.” He tipped his head in reference to Nash. “You could at least pretend to be happy to see him.”

That wasn’t the problem at all. After the night I’d had, I was far too happy and relieved to find—not my lover, not my boyfriend… my fuck buddy?—waiting for me.

I dropped my spent cigarette, then crushed it underfoot. It gave me an excuse to avoid Nash’s eyes a moment longer. With the two of them between me and the door, and my car at the opposite end of a trek mostly uphill, I had little choice but to move forward.

Looking at my shoes as they scuffed through the grass, I trudged up to Ripley and Nash. A foot or so away from them, I stopped and stuffed my hands into my jeans pockets. It was the only thing I could think to do to keep from throwing myself at Nash. I knew already the moment I touched him, or he put his arms around me, I would start crying and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stop.

“Oh look, Fitch. You have a gentleman caller,” Ripley tried again in the same chagrined tone. “Say hello.”

Speaking of callers, the burner phone hadn’t left the bathroom counter since Nash dropped it off. I’d checked it once or twice, enough to see unread text messages piling up. I didn’t respond to them for the same reason I stood idly by now. What I wanted was at odds with what was best for the people I cared about. The Capitol had already raided the Bitters’ End once looking for me; I couldn’t be the cause of any more trouble for Nash and his business.

I also couldn’t ignore him while he stared at me with those soft brown eyes or put aside the loneliness that had kept me up every night since I’d left him.

“Fuck off, Rip,” I muttered.

Ripley stepped back and bent in a dramatic bow. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

I waited until he disappeared through the door that allowed keycard access into the hotel to heave a sigh. I might have waited longer if Nash hadn’t stepped forward and slid his arms around me.

He pulled me in, and my body relaxed at his touch. My eyes fluttered closed as I laid my head on his chest.

“Hey, Trouble,” Nash cooed into my ear, prickling my skin with pleasant goosebumps.

A snuffle at the hollow of his throat flooded my nose with the herbal scent of his cologne. “Rip’s your wingman now?” I mumbled. “Not sure how I feel about you talking to other men.”

“About you?” Nash asked.

“At all.”

His chuckle rumbled against my cheek. “Jealous? That’s new.”

I exhaled again. Every breath ferried away more of the stress that had been burying me for days. “I missed you,” I said.

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