Being in love with all things related to unsolved and solved crimes, I expected to be better at managing the panic taking over. It was a whole different story when you’re face-to-face with pure fucking evil, with cult ties and a really cold welcome when you arrived.
I felt alone, despite having Grimm in my corner.
Well, not right now. Now I was alone, like it was a test of my will or survival skills.
“He just needed a date. I’m just a secretary, Oscar.” I tried to keep my voice level as I spoke.
Leaning against the bedpost, I felt glued to Grimm’s childhood sheets, still black with red trim. “Is that a bet you’re willing to take?”
Shifting in Grimm’s bed, I looked around, trying to find a weapon or anything I could arm myself with. Coming up empty, I settled for scooting to the edge of the bed and hoping he maintained his distance.
“I’m not betting anything. He’s my boss, Oscar.” My sudden ability to lie appeared right in time.
He took a seat next to me, and I felt the bed shift, making my body tense uncomfortably. He made my body break out in goosebumps, and his hand clamped down on the back of my neck—not too hard, but it still made my heart quicken. The faster pace made my chest ache and my ears ring.
“You don’t belong in this world. Neither do I, babe.”
I shot up off the bed at the word babe. Standing up, I moved over to the door, but Oscar caught up in only a few steps, pressing his hand to the door, making sure I couldn’t open it.
With his breath on my neck, I could practically feel his lips graze my skin, making me flinch. “Running away, Abigail? Always running. Don’t want to stain that perfect reputation, good Catholic girl from Chicago? I just can’t let you run this time. You’re my… initiation.”
His words had a bite to them, and his body pushed against my back. My chest felt tight, and my heart was pounding more than I could take. The panic I had felt earlier only sped up enough to make the adrenaline run rampant.
Trying to twist around enough to hit him, he saw me looking for anything I could to help me escape. Grabbing my hair in his fist, he dragged me back to the bed and pushed me on the cold satin.
On my stomach, Oscar trapped my legs, straddling me, while his hands pushed my dress up to my hips. I didn’t expect the tears to cloud my vision, but they did.
“Oscar, please…” I pleaded with him, knowing it wasn’t going to do me any good. Pinching the inside of his thigh wouldn’t get him to ever slow down below 80 even if he felt like it, and saying his name now wasn’t going to do anything either.
It was worth the try.
“Will Grimm still want you when I’m done?” His fingers pushed under the band of my panties, and I wiggled uncontrollably, trying to break free from under his weight.
When I heard the door open, I whined for help and twisted my face now covered in tears for the person to help me. Once I saw who it was, even more tears poured from my eyes. Jessica wasn’t going to help me.
Her unplanned visit to the office and her face dropping down to her toes when I showed up on his arm was enough to make her hate me. Or at least suspect something was going on between Grimm and me.
Taking advantage of Oscar being distracted by her, I twisted my way out of his clutch enough to push him off of me. Just when things started to look hopeful, Jessica slapped me across the face so hard it stunned me, while stumbling backwards into Oscar.
“I knew you wouldn’t be able to get the job done. Fucking pussy. Think too much to make any decisions.” Her thick Russian accent hung in the air with dominance.
Before I could collect myself back into place, I felt Jessica’s fingers against my scalp, forcing me back towards the bed.
In one swift motion, she was forcing me down, bending me at the hips and pushing my chest into the sheets again. The tears hadn’t dried before the new wave of tears moistened my cheeks.
I wasn't broken, and this certainly would break me the way they hoped. The tears were simply frustration mixed with the adrenaline pumping through my veins, forcing me to keep trying to escape their grasp.
“Oscar, do it! You heard his mother. Ruin her, so he won’t want her anymore!” Jessica demanded as I heard Oscar’s belt holding up his dress pants jiggle. Jessica’s knee dug into my back as I felt Oscar’s crotch press into my ass. I clamped my eyes closed, trying to escape mentally if I couldn’t physically.
When I was taken by my dad’s enemies, I walked into it blindly. This time, I woke up in one of my nightmares, already held hostage before I had time to figure it out.
They wanted me to learn a lesson; only this time, it wasn’t that my dad was a horrible guy. This lesson was to teach me not to fall for someone I can’t actually have.
GRIMM
Taking Bo’s word for it, I headed upstairs, trying to decipher where Abigail could be. Pulling out my phone, I texted Khaos again, demanding him to give me answers, locations, coordinates… anything.
Stepping onto the landing of the second floor, I tucked my phone into the pocket of my jacket, listening to the faint sound of something in the distance. Following it, I ended up in front of my childhood bedroom door. It was not really a room I considered personal or private.
Growing up, I spent more time at the estate than in that room—or really, anywhere but where I should feel connected, like my childhood home.
There’s always a feeling before something bad truly happens. You can choose to ignore it or lean into it. That’s why I can’t hate California. Yeah, it might be superficial and depraved of morals, but if you lean in enough, the bad shit ends up feeling like a breeze.
I leaned in so much I was pretty much horizontal with the bad shit. Nothing surprised me, and handling my problems was merely an annoyance instead of the end of the world.
On the other side of the door, I heard crying, Jessica’s thick accent telling someone to “do it already,” and movements that I couldn’t place.
Leaning in wasn’t going to help me. I practically kicked my door open to find Jessica sitting next to Abigail on the bed, holding her head down, as Oscar stood behind her bent over body.
It didn’t matter how horizontal I was with the demons or the bad shit in my life; this wasn’t some annoyance. This was a death ticket without an anonymous fucking text to point me in the right direction.
Oscar backed away from Abigail with so much fear in his eyes that we both knew the Clave wouldn’t ever see him as anything but damaged goods. He was messy, stupid, and downright useless to us when he couldn’t even manage to not get caught doing anything.
I wanted to put my hands on him.
I wanted to strangle him.
I wanted to watch the life leave his body with a smile on my face.
Rushing to Abigail’s side, I wrapped my arm around her and held her against me as she shook.
I hadn’t even said those three words before my lifestyle was beating her down. We barely got to be happy before the Clave got in the way.
Ripping myself from Abigail, I fisted Oscar’s dress shirt and shook his unruly hair in the process of pushing him against the wall. My desire to put my hands on him was too much to ignore when my knuckles broke against his perfect heartthrob features that gave every girl the wrong idea.
He wasn’t a gentleman.
He wasn't a good guy.