Page 52 of Grim

“Go slowly,” I reassured her. “I want to hear it all. Your pain will be mine.”

“I don’t want you in pain, Grim. That’s the last thing I would want.”

“We will bear each other’s pasts. We will rise from the ashes of those who pained us. I will watch the light leave their eyes. I will do it until I have avenged my mate.” My mouth twitched in a malicious smile.

Journey’s lips parted, staring at me in awe.

“I’ll do it. You can’t stop me. Anyone that dared to lay a hand on you, I will have Switch and Hawke hunt them down. I’ll kill them with my bare hands. Pluck their eyes from their sockets for looking at your body, rip their fingers from their hands for touching your skin and,” I chuckled darkly. “I’ll cut off their dicks and shove it down their throats until they choke.”

Journey’s mouth hung open; her eyebrows furrowed in fascination.

“That’s quite a picture you painted,” she said. She reached up to the side of my face, tracing her fingers over a scar that my beard covered. “You would do that for me?”

“Yes,” I said gruffly.

She nodded, satisfied with my answer.

“I won’t stop you, then. I don’t want it happening to anyone else. There were children, too, Grim. I… I don’t want that happening to them most of all.”

“It won’t. I’ll make sure of it,” I promised.

The entire club would join. Journey was part of our family now. And you did not mess with anyone in the Iron Fang—human or supernatural, it didn’t matter. Anyone trafficking innocent lives deserved the worst kind of death.

Journey sat up straight, her gaze reaching the farthest end of the forest. The mountains in the distance would soon be covered in snow on the most northern peaks by next month. My mate would need thicker clothes, and thicker blankets to cover her in the nest.

I would take care of her. My wolf agreed wholeheartedly and purred deep within my chest.

“I was always a mover,” Journey interrupted my thoughts. “For as long as I could remember, I moved. I couldn’t stay focused on one thing, and my mind would constantly wander. I had trouble in school, always behind my peers. Too busy dreaming of faraway places, pretending that fairy tales existed, and there were creatures in the forest I could talk to,” she giggled.

Gods, how ironic?

“I had few friends. I grew up in a tiny religious town in Kansas. One church, one grocery store, nothing but farmland for miles. The entire school was kindergarten to twelfth grade. I was considered the ‘troublemaker.’ No one wanted to be around sin, around someone who differed so vastly from them. So, I was ignored, sometimes bullied on the playground, which only increased my need to move.” Journey scooted closer, putting her head on my shoulder.

“My parents told me I needed to shape up. I needed to act better. That a demon was trying to take over my body and that I had to fight it.” Journey balled her hands into fists. “I went to church every Sunday like they wanted, sat in the front row, pinched my own thigh to keep myself still until there were bruises. But even that wasn’t enough for me to pay attention. My body may have been still, but my mind wandered instead.”

Journey looked over the valley while I stroked her hair.

“I didn’t touch anybody, didn’t make noise. And sometimes my eye would twitch. Kids would point it out during class. I’d get more notes home for disturbing the other kids. That would make mother so mad.” Journey covered her mouth, rubbing it until her eye twitched again.

I squeezed her tight, rubbing my beard on the crown of her head.

“The school had enough one day. They didn’t have enough resources to take care of a kid that couldn’t recite the scriptures. The counselor that was doing an internship for his degree at a fancy college told them I needed some extra help because I had ADHD. No one listened to outsiders, though. Not in that town,” she said bitterly. “God had supposedly cursed me.”

She bit her lip. “I wasn’t loud. I kept to myself and didn’t bother anybody. The school told my parents they couldn’t help me any longer, that I was a ‘lost cause’ and maybe the preacher could help with an ‘exorcism.’” Journey curled her body against mine, her face buried in my chest.

“Does it happen when you get nervous?” I asked. My thumb rubbed across her twitching skin, and it instantly calmed.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “It started after she slapped me one day after getting a note home from school for not doing my work. It’s done it ever since.”

Fuck.

I snarled, pulling her closer. Taking my thumb, I rubbed her cheek tenderly. She sighed, gripped my shirt, and smelled it deeply.

It sounded like she lived with a bunch of dumb fuck religious cunts.

“Keep going, baby.”

“One night, my parents told me how they really felt. They never cared. I was too much work. I was such a disappointment and embarrassment. They wished they would have just aborted me, if they had done that they wouldn’t have had to get married to each other.” Journey wiped her nose with her sleeve.

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