Page 78 of His Favorite Color is Blood
Misha swallowed. “Is this really the right time? With all thethingsgoing on?” They’d go to the court and get married when Misha coulddienext week? What would be the point?
Grin frowned. “That’s exactly why. I lead a dangerous lifestyle. What’s gonna happen if I can’t protect you anymore? You’d have nothing to keep you afloat.”
Misha wasn’t happy with Lucky listening to all this. This was private, and he couldn’t even say everything he wanted while they were here. “You’renotdying.”
“How do you know?” demanded Grim, staring at him from beneath his thick, well-sculpted brows.
“Can we talk about this at home?” Misha hugged the vest and the folder to his chest, as if they could somehow shield him from the terrible fate suggested by Grim.
Grim pressed his lips shut and got up from the chair, rapidly pushing it back. “Fine,” he said and sat on the red sofa in the waiting area behind Misha’s back. Not only could Misha sense the grey eyes on him now, he could also see Grim in the mirror.
Misha took a deep breath of fruit-scented air and didn’t feel any more relaxed when Lucky descended into chatter about his own engagement and how Tooth proposed to him in front of the whole club. Of course, Tooth did that. He didn’t just come to Lucky’s barbershop and announce they’d be getting married out of the blue.
Misha knew Grim had his own ways of showing affection. Instead of talking and showering Misha with declarations or grand gestures, he did all those small things that revealed the depth of his commitment, but Misha was still too stunned to understand what had happened.
Chapter 25
Grim
Grim rushed toward theclubhouse with his head boiling up. This couldn’t be happening to him. He did everything right. He protected Misha, gave him the property vest, and he’d give him the moon and the stars if he could. He even obtained a false identity for him so that they could be together. Just days ago, Misha told Grim he’d gladly be branded if that was what it took for them to be a couple, but marriage was too much of a commitment?
“Grim! Come on! Let’s talk!” Misha yelled from the car where he still was, since Grim didn’t help him into the wheelchair, leaving it next to the door instead. And even fuming, it was Grim who had to pay for Misha’s new haircut. The only services Lucky was willing to do for free were for Grim, and Grim ended up not taking him up on the offer. It was so fucking humiliating to have anyone else witness his failure. He’d have never expected Misha to reject him. Not in his wildest dreams. Not when he was already imagining them obtaining a license and having everyone watch two gay men, who could finally be legally married everywhere in the country, celebrating their special day.
“What about?” he shouted back.
“About what happened!” Misha transferred into the wheelchair, already wearing the property vest, as if he wanted to make a point. And what point would that be? Grim had no idea. A confusing one, that was for sure.
Grim turned around and spread his arms wide. So much effort went into organizing everything. And he even gave up on riding his motorcycle for the sake of Misha’s comfort. It still wasn’t enough to convince Misha that this relationship was serious. “I think you were clear back at the shop.”
Misha started wheeling his way. His new shoulder-length hair did look cute, but it didn’t makehima nice person, no matter how much his lips curved downward. “No, I simply wanted to talk in private, not with Lucky listening! You’re overreacting.”
“Iam overreacting?”
Misha caught up with him, bumping into Grim’s knee as he looked up and grabbed the hem of Grim’s T-shirt where it stuck out from beneath the cut. “I love you. You’re my biggest hero. What’s going on?”
Something collapsed in Grim’s ribcage, but he still met Misha’s gaze. “I’mnotyour hero. I’m just doing your bidding and gratefully taking whatever you toss my way.”
Misha cautiously grabbed his hand. “That’s not true. You mean everything to me. I’m just surprised. You came in, threw the passport in my lap, and announced we were getting married. I’m … overwhelmed.”
Grim bit his lip, but as Misha’s fingers tightened around his palm, he couldn’t help but enjoy the warm touch. “Do you think I’m not confused? I never met anyone I wanted to stay with.”
Misha swallowed and looked into the open lounge behind Grim’s back. “My mind is wrapped around Zero calling at any point. We need to talk strategy, and … the last thing I was expecting was you wanting ...marriage. I mean … we’re together whether it says so on paper or not.”
Grim sighed and pushed his other hand into his pocket. Blood drummed against the warmth of Misha’s hand as they looked at one another, and he stepped toward the building. There was a sense of resignation coursing throughout his bloodstream.
“This way I could keep you safe even when I’m not there.”
Misha pulled his hand back so he could follow him in the wheelchair. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said, but his voice got a higher pitch.
Grim stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked back. “No? How do you know? Don’t you listen to what I say?”
Misha held his arms out in a silent plea, reminding Grim of the first time he did that in a motel bathroom. A sense of deep tenderness spread through his chest. Grim loved being so useful to him, always by his side, and always being needed, but if something really did happen to him, Misha needed to be protected from all the storms that would come after. Grim had talked to Tooth about it and askedhim to make sure Misha would be taken care of if anything happened. He wasn’t as free to provide for himself as other people. He was vulnerable and scared. He couldn’t be left on his own.
“I don’t want to live in a world without you,” Misha whispered. “You’re my shield.”
It was like a bolt that lodged itself in Grim’s heart and injected him with the sweetest of poisons. “Maybe you should sayyesthen,” he said and picked Misha up.
“You need to know nothing would be fine without you.” Misha wrapped himself around Grim like ivy, and his milky scent found its way into Grim’s nose, deeming him incapable of fighting any longer.
