Page 62 of Grim

What were we to do? They shoved all of us who were not part of their club—anyone not wearing a vest—into a room filled with monitors that could show us the outside. Part of me felt it wasn’t just keeping us away from the fight but hiding what kind of fight it was.

Not only did Grim go crazy, but others did as well. They weren’t listening to Locke. They attacked anyone or anything that was moving.

My stomach turned into knots. It was Grim that gave me an uneasy feeling. He wasn’t right, something was terribly wrong, and we were shoved in here to keep us away from him.

The raw meat, the “nest,” the growls, the purrs. It was all coming together.

“Why did I not notice it before?” I whispered.

Delilah left her seat on the couch with the others and grabbed my arm. She pulled me to the wall and leaned against it, scooting me to the floor.

“Do you find anything strange with Hawke?” I asked, staring straight at the other side of the empty wall. Bone’s leg was in my peripheral as I watched him sway as he looked at the monitor.

“How so?” she asked.

“Face changing, eyes weird colors,” I mumbled.

“No, just that he won’t commit,” she chuckled nervously. “Why face changes? What do you mean?”

I shook my head, my eye twitching. It was bad, and Delilah went to touch it with her fingers, but I grabbed them before she could.

“Does he ever growl?” I said too loudly.

I turned to gauge her reaction. I didn’t just catch her attention, but Bones’s as well. He pushed the laptop screen down and eyed me carefully.

“Growling, purring, eating raw meat?” I panicked. “When you look into his eyes, do you see a shadow? An animal? Maybe a wolf on the other side?”

My breathing grew erratic, my hands shaking until I thrusted my fingers into my tangled hair. It was all coming together. How did I not see? There was something inside him, an animal.

How could anyone not notice?

“Honey, I think you are having a panic attack. Everything is fine. Grim will take care of that man,” Delilah soothed.

“No, no, no. I’m not upset about that. It’s more. Grim is so much more. Hell, maybe all of them!” My eyes widened, watching Bones pulling a syringe out of his bag.

Shit.

I grabbed my chest, feeling the unbearable pressure sitting above my heart. “He had fangs! Long, sharp fangs, his eyes glowed, his fingers had claws, Delilah!”

The room went quiet, hearing my panic. They stood from their seats, shuffling to the other side of the room. No one believed me. They looked at me with pity while I tried to stand.

“It’s true! I saw it!” My voice reached an unbearable squeal. “I saw him! I did. His face grew more hair.” My hands trailed up my cheeks, scratching them. “His eyes. There was an animal inside him!”

“We all know there is an animal in Grim. He kills for fun,” one man said. He scoffed, sitting back in his seat.

Bones put his hand on my shoulder, the syringe in his other hand. “Let’s calm down now, alright. I don’t want to poke you, because Grim will have my hide, but I need you to relax.”

“Please don’t. I’ll be quiet.”

“God, you are such a jerk,” Delilah scolded. Her arm went around me as I shivered. “I swear, I don’t even believe you’re an actual doctor. When a woman is having a panic attack, you console, not drug her!”

“I’m not great with emotions, I suppose.” He looked sheepish as he put the syringe away. “Not used to females.”

My lips wobbled as I kept my mouth shut. I would not be drugged, not again. God, they all thought I was crazy, but I knew what I saw. I was not hallucinating. Grim was something more. They all were. They had to be.

The door burst open, the knob smashing into the wall and getting stuck. My head hung low, and I watched the leather boots lift from the floor. Heavy, calculated footsteps entered while everyone gasped. Fresh, deep crimson blood dripped onto the floor, banging into my head like drums. It sounded like a death march, waiting for the next victim to appear.

The few tears that dripped down my cheek grazed my collar bone, waking me from my panic. I took my heavy head and raised it to see Grim paused in the middle of the room, staring back at me. His eyes no longer held the fire, his beard was neatly trimmed the way I liked it, and no fangs hung from his mouth.

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