Page 66 of Sinful Little Lies

Damnright he fucking owes me.

“Eli, put Greer in the car. Verena, ride back with Eli and make sure he doesn’t pull any shit in the backseat. Bring him to the tunnels. We’re having some fun tonight.” I order.

They leave without another word and Griffin and I are left to discuss what he means by his previous statement. “What do you mean you owe me?” I ask, unsure if this is just another trap to catch me in.

“I’m sorry, little brother. I’m the oldest and it has always been my job to protect you. You were thrown into a den of wolves with no guidance or shelter. It should’ve been me, but I was drowning too deep in my own shit, I didn’t think I could save us both.” He confesses.

“Well you did save me that one time,” I say with a chuckle.

“Yeah, and I could’ve done more. I should have. I’m sorry. If you’ll forgive me, I’ve got a high-ranking position on my team for muscle. It’s yours if you want it.” Griffin offers, and I am taken aback by his politeness, his genuineness, and his apology.

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it. Kind of late by a few years,” I joke, “but maybe, in all actuality, you were right on time. I’d lovea spot if you’ll have me. My current gig is coming to an end and I wasn’t too sure about what to do.” I admit.

An idea comes to mind, so I milk the opportunity for all that it’s worth. “Do you need anyone in the tech department? My friend, the one who left withmywoman,” I put emphasis on the word because I saw how he was ogling her,again, “he’s a wizard behind the computer. He can hack any camera, shut down any power grid, and get you immediate access into any place of your choosing. If there’s a spot for him, I’m in.”

A few seconds of silence go by and Griffin sticks out his hand, “You have a deal.”

We can’t turn back the hands of time, but sometimes a late apology is better than no apology at all.

I bring my hand up to meet his and we shake. Our understanding of each other just multiplied to a magnitude I thought was fucking impossible. But, I’m thankful for the insane turn of events for leading me to greater things, and I’m stoked about taking Eli along for the ride. I know he’d have no problem picking up a job literally anywhere else. With a record as impressive as his, I wouldn’t be surprised if he snagged a spot at the White House, but then he’d be way too cool to hang with me and even though I’ve never told him, and never will tell him out loud, I fucking love that crazy bastard.

Tonight,we had a guys night. The first one in a long fucking time. We smoke, drank, finally saw Emmett for more than a fleeting moment, it was great. Eli had the spontaneous idea to get pierced so him and Emmett are rocking pretty new jewelryand Jaden and I have some new ink. I haven’t showed Verena yet, but I can’t wait to see her reaction.

After all the guys trickled into their rooms, I asked John, the tattoo artist, if he’d stick around and give me a few more pieces. In addition to thelittle monstertattoo across my heart, I’ve got the letter V on the inside of my ring finger on my left hand, and Verena’s eyes on my forearm.

I can’t wait to show her, and I will very soon, but tonight, I’m paying Greer a visit.

Greer has been kept down in the tunnels for about two and half weeks, chained to a wall. It felt wrong to let him off with a quick and easy death. I figured it was a fair trade to make him suffer one day, for every year he tormented me.

Seventeen days total.

I hope this has felt like the longest pitstop to Hell. I hope that in death, he doesn’t forget this pain.

He’s been shackingup with my old pal, Braxton. Greer fucking hates it and I relish in his suffering. I even asked Emmett for his help to install cameras so I could keep an eye on my little toy whenever I was away.

We’ve had some good times these last few weeks. On his first night, I gave him a septum piercing with a staple gun. I didn’t want to send him into shock and therefore grant him the early death he’s wishing for, so I waited for the piercing to heal before I did anything else.

About four days later, I carved a thousand little nicks into his skin. They bled just enough that they itched and burned his skin for days on end as the cuts were healing.

Once they scabbed over, I took one out of Emmett’s book and sliced off his skin in a few different sections throughout his body. Layer by layer, inch by inch, he was left behind with raw, pink flesh. I took a bottle of acid to his skin, and his wails for help became desperate.

“Please, Grimm. I’m sorry. We can work this out. It was all just a big misunderstanding.” Greer begged.

“No can do,big bro, I have this motto. It goes like this, ‘You go low, I go to Hell’s basement.’ It’s a simple concept, really. No amount of your charm assaults will get you out of this. You are a dead man. Accept it.” I growled.

Tonight, there’s nothing planned. Who knows if he’ll live to see another day?

I enter the tunnels, backpack of tools hanging off my shoulder, and whistle while I strut down the halls. When I reach the door, I undo the safety locks and drag open the heavy cement. “What the fuck is up, bro? How ya been? Hopefully not sitting around too much.” I double over in a laugh.

He’s fucking chained to the wall, he’s been on his ass for two weeks.

I walk over to him and drop the bag, then sort through its contents. The glint of my butcher knife catches my eye immediately. Gripping the handle with a grin, I pull out the knife and wave it in front of Greer. “Good way to go, eh? Should have made you into anA Thousand Ways to Dieepisode.” I lift my hands dramatically as if I’m reciting a title, “We call this one, “TheOh, Brother!’ It originates from a story of a dimwit who fucked over his innocent kid brother one too many fucking times.”

Lifting the knife above my head, I bring it down fast and hard, severing his wrist and causing his limp arm to fall out of the chain. Greer’s scream pierce my ears and it’d be painful if it didn’t feel so goddamn good.

The butcher knife is above my head and coming down once again in a flash, severing the opposite hand this time. I repeat the process on both of his ankles and finish off by burying the butcher knife into his neck.

His lifeless eyes stare back at me and I feel absolutely nothing. No sympathy. No regrets. Just peace and serenity that my biggest problems on this earth are just floating souls making amends with their lives and their deaths. They aren’t my problem anymore.

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