Page 50 of Grim

This was heaven.

We drove for close to two hours before we stopped. At some point, we had turned around and were getting closer to town. It looked like a scenic spot meant for tourists to park and snap pictures. The parking lines were faded, moss and pine needles covered the white paint. This scenic spot was barely used, and the view before us was untouched by human hands.

The posts of a previous fence that kept tourists away from the edge were all but broken. The rails were rusted over and hidden by nature.

“We own this,” Grim spoke. “Locke and me.” He held out his hand, leading me to the edge.

Grim reached out with his hand, looking as if he was touching the mist that was settling on the conifer trees below.

My eye twitched, realizing how close we were to the edge.

Grim’s hand landed on my lower back, pulling me closer to him. My eye twitched slower when his thumb traced across it.

“We love the outdoors, the forest, the wildlife. It’s in our roots, it’s who we are,” he said to the wind. I tilted my head, his eyes still pinned to the forest before us.

“I hope to build a home down there soon. Where it’s quiet, peaceful.” He cleared his throat.

We stood in silence for a long time, my head resting against his body.

“W-when do you plan on doing it?” I asked. Because if he wanted to build a home, maybe my time was shorter than I thought.

“When you know all of me,” he breathed. “When you know who I am, and I haven’t scared you away. Not that I’m going to let you go anyway,” he chuckled.

I cocked my head in confusion and opened my mouth but had difficulty letting any words go.

“Well, I already know you kill the bad guys. What more do you think would keep me away?” I chuckled, burying my cold nose into his vest.

“There’s more,” he casually mentioned, rubbing his hand up and down my back. “More to me, the club, and the world you think you know.”

My smile fell, and his hand stopped rubbing my back.

Grim led me to a bench covered with moss and rot. He sat down on it without a care. It creaked, and he pulled me into his lap, so I didn’t have to sit in the dirt.

“And I’m going to tell you my story, but I really want to hear yours first. I want to know what happened to you, no matter how angry it makes me. The only way I can do that is out here, Journey. To keep me calm, to keep the wild beast inside me from ripping apart everything in our den.”

I blinked, long and slow.

“If I get up from this bench and leave you standing here, you don’t move. You stay, I will protect you. Nothing in this forest would ever harm you, do you understand?” he muttered. “Can you do that for me, Journey?”

I couldn’t say no to the pleading look. I was more concerned with why he would have to go into the forest. There wasn’t much of my story to tell. He knew most of it from the first day I had stayed here. The nitty gritty I left out; surely, he wouldn’t want to know it all.

“All of it?” I whispered.

“Everything,” his chest growled. “From the first day you were taken to when I found you. I must know.”

“I really don’t want to,” I brushed a tear away. “I want to forget it.”

“And I will help you forget, Journey.” His large hands cupped my cheek. “It is the job of a mate to do these things. I will avenge you, kill every worthless piece of shit that ever touched you. I will erase their existence from the earth as if they never existed.”

I heaved in a breath at the intensity of his words.

A mate?

“W-what’s a mate?” I asked.

His eyes relaxed, petting my hair. His nose went to my shoulder, taking slow tantalizing breaths in.

“It is what my people call someone who is meant to be theirs. Always.”

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