Grim Offerings (Aisling Grimlock Book 2) (24 page)

“How was your day today?” Griffin dropped a kiss on my forehead and settled next to me on the couch in the parlor at Grimlock Manor.

“I spent the afternoon at the spa with Jerry,” I said evasively. I knew there was a moment of truth in my future, but I was holding off so everyone could attack me at the same time.

“What did you do there?” Griffin asked.

“Spa stuff.”

“Do you want to be more specific?”

I shrugged. “Spa stuff. Don’t you know what happens at a spa?”

“Do you soak your feet in boiling water?”

“I did get a pedicure,” I said. “You can see my freshly painted toenails later when you’re giving me a foot rub.” If you’re still talking to me, I silently added.

Griffin smirked. “What else did you do?”

“Do you seriously not know what goes on at a spa?”

“I seriously don’t,” Griffin said. “They didn’t go to the spa on
The Golden Girls
,” he teased.

“Well, we started with a chest waxing for Jerry,” I said.

Griffin made a face. “Seriously?”

“Oh, honey, his chest is smoother than a baby’s bottom. You can’t find a hair on his chest.”

“Does Aidan wax his chest, too? Is that a … .”

I arched an eyebrow. “Were you going to say ‘gay thing?’”

“Unfortunately, yes. I caught myself, though.”

“I don’t think all gay men do it,” I said. “Jerry waxes his chest, but Aidan shaves his. To be fair, I think all my brothers shave their chests.”

“Really?”

“They say it makes their muscles stand out,” I said. “Apparently women drool over it.”

“Do you drool over it?”

“I prefer a little hair,” I said. “If it starts growing on your back, though, it has to go.”

Griffin tickled my ribs. “Duly noted. How are you feeling?”

“I told you that I’m fine.”

“Well, forgive me,” Griffin said. “I can’t help but worry.”

“Oh, good, you told him,” Jerry said, sliding into the room. The marble floors had always entertained us, and socks on marble can keep rambunctious kids busy for hours over long winter afternoons.

I shot Jerry a look, and mimed closing a zipper across my lips. The gesture wasn’t lost on Griffin. “Told me what?”

Crap. “I got a facial,” I said. “Feel my skin. It’s soft.”

“I talked her into getting a purifying mask,” Jerry said. “She looks like a dream now.”

“Then why do I feel like I’m about to step into a nightmare?” Griffin asked. “What else did you two do today?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Jerry said. “She disappeared while I was getting my chest waxed. It’s all her fault.”

I’m going to kill him.

“I’m sorry, Bug,” Jerry said. “I’m too pretty to have a black eye.”

The burning sensation climbing my cheeks was intense as I tried to avoid Griffin’s accusatory gaze.

“Where did you disappear to?”

“Did I tell you I got massage, too?”

Griffin waited.

“The guy was really hot, but I didn’t even look at him,” I said. “I kept thinking about you all day.”

“He was really hot,” Jerry said. “Aisling moaned like … well … let’s just say I’ve heard it before. You’re a gifted lover.”

“You’re not helping, Jerry,” I snapped.

“Men love hearing how good they are in bed,” Jerry said. “It can’t hurt to flatter him.”

“You already threw me under the bus!”

“We are going to sit right here until you tell me what you did,” Griffin threatened. “You’re not getting a thing to eat – I don’t care how much you beg – until you tell me the truth.”

“What’s going on now?” Cillian asked, stepping into the room with a wide smile on his face. He wasn’t alone; a beaming Maya was at his side. I didn’t know she was even invited. This was good for me. If we had a guest, my father would be less likely to burn the house down to get to me.

“Aisling and I went to the spa today,” Jerry said. “Feel her face. She had a purifying mask. It feels like silk.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Cillian said. “She doesn’t look like she wants to be touched right now, and I think Griffin has dibs.”

“I think Griffin looks like he’s going to strangle her,” Braden said, joining the crowd. “What did you do, Ais?”

“What makes you think I did anything?”

“Your track record,” Braden said.

I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m feeling persecuted.”

“You shouldn’t all jump on her,” Maya said. “She’s recovering from being thrown into a car. This doesn’t seem fair.”

“Butt out, Maya,” Griffin warned. “I want to know what you two did today.”

“Uh-oh. Did the spa get out of control?” Redmond asked, stepping into the parlor. Aidan was a few steps behind him. “Aidan said the credit card company called because you guys went nuts.”

“Eight hundred dollars,” Aidan sputtered. “What could you two have possibly done that cost eight hundred dollars?”

“Pedicures. Manicures. I got my chest waxed. Aisling got her butt buffed. We got hot rock massages and purifying masks. Oh, and Aisling got a deep condition. Her hair looks like she should be walking down runway.” Now that Jerry had listed everything, it did sound a little … extravagant.

“That sounds like a great day,” Maya said. “Did the massage help you? I know your back has been giving you problems.”

She was trying to help me by shifting the focus of the conversation. I admired the effort, but I knew Griffin and my brothers well enough to know that it wasn’t going to work. That wasn’t going to stop me from delaying the inevitable. “I do feel much looser.”

“Aisling … .” Griffin clasped his hands together, fighting to retain control of his temper. “What happened today?”

I cleared my throat. “Well, while I was waiting for Jerry to get his chest waxed, a woman came out of the back of the spa. While she paid her bill, I heard her name.”

“I’m practically salivating,” Braden deadpanned. “Was it a celebrity?”

“Her name was Sylvia Dobbs.”

The room fell silent. Maya was the only one who seemed oblivious to the chill. “Who is that?”

“She’s a … person of interest … in the case I’m working on,” Griffin said.

“What case are you working on?”

“It’s kind of a case we’re all working on,” Cillian hedged.

Maya was confused. “But … .”

Griffin held up his hand. “Did you talk to her?”

“No,” I said. “I knew that would be a mistake.”

“Well, that’s good news,” Redmond said. “You could’ve done something really stupid.”

“Wait for it,” Griffin grumbled.

“I didn’t speak to her,” I said. “I did follow her out onto the street. I wanted to see where she was going.”

“Yeah, Dad is going to kill you,” Braden said.

“I’m going to help,” Aidan said. “What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that it was the best chance we had to get some answers,” I said.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Aidan asked.

“Or me?” Redmond asked.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Griffin was beside himself.

“Because I knew all of you would have forced me onto the sidelines,” I said. “Plus, by the time any of you got there, she would’ve been gone.”

“So, you followed her?” Cillian asked.

“I did.”

“Where did she go?” Braden asked.

“She went to a parking lot on one of the side streets off Main,” I said.

“And she left without seeing you?” Aidan was hopeful.

“She never saw me,” I said.

“See, I don’t like the way you’re answering questions,” Redmond said. “You used to do this when you were a kid. You would lead with minor stuff that didn’t make you look too bad and then ease into the really terrible stuff.”

“Like the time she admitted to knocking the mirror off Dad’s car,” Braden supplied. “She came into the house holding the mirror, and then it took her an hour to admit she’d wrecked the rest of the car, too.”

“That was an accident,” I said.

“And what you did today was on purpose,” Aidan said. “So, what happened next?”

I pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead, trying to stall for time.

“I just know this is going to be bad,” Cillian said. “I’m almost afraid to hear it.”

“Before she left, she had a visitor in the parking lot,” I said carefully. “They had a conversation.”

“Oh, just rip the bandage off, Bug,” Jerry said. “You’re making things worse now.”

I made an exasperated sound in the back of my throat. “It was Fontaine, and they had a long discussion about the ‘Grimlock girl’ and how they needed to get me because I was the key to their plans.”

“Sonovabitch!” Dad stormed into the room. Had he been eavesdropping? Now I know where I get it. “What exactly did they say?”

I recounted their conversation, and when it came time to address my interaction with Fontaine, I balked momentarily and then plunged in. The incredulous faces – even Maya’s – were almost murderous by the time I was done.

“I’m going to kill you,” Dad said, taking a step forward. “I … how can you be my child? There’s just no way. No child of mine would be that stupid. I think someone had to switch you in the hospital. There can be no other explanation.”

“Don’t you dare yell at me!”

“You make me yell at you,” Dad countered. “You almost died four days ago.”

“I didn’t almost die.”

“Yes, you did.” Dad was just starting. I’d been in this situation numerous times. “You and your brother had your asses handed to you by Fontaine, and he was partnering with a wraith. You were thrown into a car. You could barely walk.

“Then, the very day you start to feel better, you chase crazy people on the street and pick a confrontation with the guy who threw you into a car,” he raged on. “You taunted him. You questioned him. You stood next to him five minutes after he admitted he wanted to kidnap you.

“I want a DNA test!”

“We all look exactly like you,” Cillian said. “You need to … calm down. She’s obviously okay.”

I shot him a grateful look.

“You’re still stupid,” Cillian said.

“She’s beyond stupid,” Dad said. “She aspires to be stupid.”

“Are you done? Can we talk about what we’re going to do about this?” I was starting to get aggravated.

“You’re not doing anything,” Dad said. “You’re grounded.”

“You can’t ground me. I’m an adult.”

Dad ignored me. “She’s going to have to stay here for the duration,” he said. “They know she lives in Royal Oak, and that townhouse is too exposed. We can protect her here.”

“I think that’s the best option,” Redmond said. “I’ll go back to Madame Maxine to see if she has any updates.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“I think we should move Jerry in here, too,” Aidan said. “If they can’t get to Aisling, they might try to grab him as leverage.”

“I agree,” Dad said. “Plus, with Jerry here, she’ll be less likely to go stir crazy.”

“You realize I’m in the room with you, right?” They were talking about me as though they were in charge.

“You need to make sure the staff understands the importance of keeping the doors and gates locked,” Griffin said. “I think you should cut off all guests until we can form a plan of action.”

“Does that include you?” Braden asked.

Griffin shifted. “If you think that’s best.”

“No way!” I jumped to my feet.

“Shut up, Aisling,” Dad said. “You’re the reason we have to go to these measures. You need to sit your behind back down and shut up.”

That wasn’t going to happen. “I am an adult!”

“Start acting like one.”

I narrowed my eyes, my gaze bouncing between the serious faces in the room. I knew I was about to do something immature, but since they were already treating me as a small child, it seemed to be the right move.

“Fine.” I pushed past Redmond and Braden and flounced toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Griffin asked, weary.

“I’m going to my room to think about what a rotten child I am. Then I’m going to mull over how stupid I am. Then I’m going to lock the door and hide in the closet and think about how I’ve ruined all your lives.”

“So, you’re going upstairs to pout?” Aidan asked.

“Yes.” I had no intention of going to my room. They needed to think that’s where I would be hiding out. I was making my escape, and there was no better time than when they were all congregated in the same room talking about me.

I’d show them.

Car theft is an interesting thing. Most people never get a chance to experience the heady highs of doing something you know is wrong, and the unfortunate lows of getting caught. When I stole my father’s Bentley from the garage I knew I was taking a chance.

I didn’t care. I needed out of that house and away from the Testosterone Mafia. Because Jerry had driven us to Grimlock Manor, I had to steal someone’s car to make my escape. I knew where my father kept his keys, so it was the easiest option.

After wheeling around the upscale neighborhoods of Grosse Pointe for a few minutes, I decided to go to the one place I knew would make me feel better.

When I entered Woody’s Bar, the owner greeted me with a warm smile and a hearty hug. “Aisling Grimlock, as I live and breathe. I haven’t seen you in … a long time.”

“I don’t live in the neighborhood anymore, Woody,” I said. “I drink closer to home.”

“You’re living in Royal Oak now, right?”

“Right.”

“And how is Jerry? I miss that boy. For a while there, when you guys were coming in with fake licenses every Friday I didn’t even have to hire a band for entertainment. He kept people coming back just because he was so darned entertaining.”

Woody Thompson had owned the neighborhood bar for as long as I could remember. People had offered him millions for his piece of land, thinking the congenial bachelor would jump at the money and abandon his little dive without a backward glance. Whether from doubt, or sheer stubbornness, Woody refused to sell. The bar was the lone bastion of alcohol and debauchery in the area, and I loved it.

“Jerry is good,” I said. “He’s over at my Dad’s place right now.”

“How come you’re not over there?”

“I’m mad at them.”

Woody smirked. “Well, their loss is my gain.” He sidled behind the bar. “What will it be? You can even drink legally this time.”

“I don’t know. Just give me a Jack and diet with a lime. Thanks.”

“Oh, you’re going for the hard stuff,” Woody said. “You must have had a rough day. Do you want to tell your old friend Woody about it?”

There’s nothing better than a sympathetic ear, even when you have to tell little white lies to get the sympathy. “I hate my family.”

“Which one of them pissed you off?”

“All of them.”

“Oh, little one, you simply have to realize you’re always going to be the baby in your family,” Woody said. I have no idea how he knew what I was stewing about. “You’re not only the baby, you’re the only girl. They can’t help themselves.”

Deep down, I knew that was true. Still … . “Do you think if I was the oldest, or even in the middle, they would treat me differently?”

“I don’t know,” Woody said. “I think they would still be overprotective where you’re concerned. Men can’t help it. They think of women as the fairer sex. I know you can take care of yourself, but it’s still in their nature to want to protect you. You should feel lucky you’re so loved.”

“Yeah, you should feel lucky.”

I cringed when I heard the voice, and shifted so I could meet Angelina’s challenging gaze as she hauled herself onto the open stool next to me. “What are you doing here? You know they have a ‘no-skank’ policy, right?”

“Then how come they let you in?”

“Oh, good one.”

Woody pressed his lips together. “Angelina. What can I get you?”

“A glass of red wine.”

“Make sure it comes from a box,” I said. “And then put the box over her head so I don’t have to look at her face.”

Woody rolled his eyes. “I see you two are still going at each other like rabid raccoons in a cage.”

“That’s because she’s evil,” I said.

“No, it’s because you’re mean and … stinky.”

I stuck my tongue out. “Why are you even here? I thought you lived up in Macomb Township. You shouldn’t be down here.”

“For your information, I was over at my mother’s house,” Angelina said. “She’s been having a rough time.”

Angelina got her sweet disposition from her mother. They were both pains. “Oh, did the neighborhood finally rally and try to burn her at the stake?”

“Hey! Her dog is dying. She’s very upset.” Angelina’s face was grim. “She’s had that dog for like twenty years. It needs to be put down, but she can’t bring herself to do it. I have to take it in tomorrow.”

That was sad … for the dog. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Is that the same little rat she used to dress up in sweaters?”

“Yes. Pixie.”

“I hated that dog,” I said. “Whenever I was walking on the sidewalk it tried to attack me through the fence.”

“Pixie is horrible,” Angelina agreed. “You have no idea how many times that dog has bitten me.”

I was starting to like Pixie. “Well … .”

“Just don’t,” Angelina said, nodding in thanks to Woody as he placed the glass of wine in front of her. “I’m not in the mood for your nonsense.”

“You sat down next to me.”

“I figured your life is so sad you can’t help but make me feel better,” Angelina shot back.

“Girls,” Woody warned. “If you’re going to fight, you need to hold off long enough for me to get the mud pit going.”

I scowled. “That’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny,” Woody prodded.

“My brothers aren’t going to think it’s funny,” I said.

“Speaking of your brothers, how is Cillian feeling?” Angelina asked.

I narrowed my eyes. I hate to kick people when they’re down, but this is Angelina. She deserves it. “He’s fine,” I said. “He’s got his new girlfriend up at the house having dinner right now.”

Angelina stilled. “Maya?”

“Yup.”

“Are you telling me they’re really dating?”

“I’m telling you they’re really on their way to dating,” I said. “He’s all aflutter when she’s around. She’s a definite step up from some of his other choices.”

“But … they just met,” Angelina complained.

“It was lust at first sight,” I said.

“She’s your boyfriend’s sister.”

“I noticed.”

“Doesn’t that bother him?”

I thought it over. “I think it would bother him if it was Braden or Redmond.” I had no idea why I was telling her the truth. “Cillian is different. He’s the sensitive one.”

“That’s why he’s the only member of your family I can stand,” Angelina said. “He’s the love of my life.”

Good grief. “Let’s not romanticize things, okay? You guys dated for six months, and you only went after him because it bugged me. I’m not stupid.”

“That might have been how it started,” Angelina conceded. “I really did fall in love with him, though.”

“And then you cheated on him.”

“That was the biggest mistake of my life. I’m trying to make amends.”

“You can’t,” I said. “It’s not possible.”

“It’s possible,” Angelina said. “You just need to tell him to give me a chance. He’ll listen to you. You’re the reason he keeps shutting me out, after all.”

“First of all, I’d rather have sex with an inbred hill freak than tell Cillian to take you back,” I said. “It doesn’t matter, though. Cillian and you would’ve never worked out. It was only a matter of time before you imploded. You’re not good enough for him.”

“I am, too!”

“No, you’re not,” I countered. “You aren’t the type of woman who can enjoy the lifestyle he wants to live. He doesn’t want to spend the weekends shopping and having brunch. He doesn’t want to live in a cookie-cutter subdivision and go to dinner parties. He likes to lounge around and watch sports. He wants to play golf. He wants to just … chill … with the rest of our family. You’re not built for that.”

“He could change,” Angelina said. “He could change for me.”

“You’re missing the point,” I said. “He shouldn’t have to change. He’s better off away from you. Quite frankly, you’re better off away from him. You’ve convinced yourself that you two had some great love story, but it was just a blip on his radar screen. You need someone as shallow as you are. You’re not going to be happy with Cillian, no matter what you tell yourself.”

“But … I love him.” Her ferret face was pitiful.

“I don’t think so,” I said. “I think you’re in love with the idea of him. I also think you cling to him because you still want to beat me.”

“I’ve already beaten you,” Angelina said. “I’m more successful than you. I have a better house than you. I’m … prettier than you.”

“You are not prettier than me.”

“Yes, I am.”

“You wish.”

“I know.”

“Woody, who is prettier?”

Woody glanced up from the glass he was polishing. He’d acted disinterested in our conversation, but I knew he’d been listening. “Oh, I’m not answering that. You’re both gorgeous.”

“She looks like road kill after it’s been driven over a hundred times,” I said.

“She looks like a skunk,” Angelina shot back. “Who told you those highlights looked good?”

“Everyone who sees them.”

“They’re lying.”

“You’re a whore,” I said, my temper flaring. Even a middling conversation with Angelina sends me over the edge. “You’re a ferret-faced whore.”

“You take that back!”

“No.”

“Take it back or I’m going to rip your skunky hair out of your head,” Angelina threatened.

“You can try.” Angelina reached for my hair, but I spun away from her. “You have the agility of a dead ninja.”

“Hey, if you two are going to fight, take it out to the parking lot,” Woody said. “I’m too old for this nonsense.”

I met Angelina’s challenging gaze. “We’ll be right back. It won’t take me long to beat her down and make her cry.”

“Oh, you’re going to be the one crying,” Angelina said, hopping off her stool.

Immaturity is one of the few skills I can exploit when I’m on the lam and pouting because my family is treating me like a child. There was no way I was going to let this opportunity pass. I needed to get my aggression out, and Angelina was an easy target. “Don’t you dare throw my drink away,” I said. “I’m not done with it.”

Woody waved me off. “Don’t kill each other.”

Angelina moved outside of the bar ahead of me, her shoulders squared. I knew why I wanted to fight. I had no idea why she wanted to sink to my level. Yes, I know I’ve completely lost my mind. I’m just so … frustrated.

“We need to set some ground rules,” Angelina said, swiveling to face me.

“Ground rules? You can’t make ground rules for a street fight.”

“No hitting in the face,” Angelina said, ignoring me. “I have an open house tomorrow.”

“Fine. No scratching with those acrylic talons of yours.”

“Fine. No kicking. I’m wearing heels, and it gives you an unnatural advantage because you’re wearing Converse. You should try buying adult shoes, by the way. Those make you look short and squat.” Angelina’s hands were clenched.

“So, what are you saying? We can hit each other in the chest?”

“Yes.”

Well, it was better than nothing. “Fine. I don’t want to hear you whine, though, when I beat your ass.”

“That goes double for you.”

“Great.”

“Awesome.”

I readied myself. “Wait. Where do we stand on hair pulling?”

“No hair pulling,” Angelina said. “This weave cost me a fortune.”

I knew she had fake hair. “Fine. Let’s go.”

“I’m ready.”

“Well … hit me.”

Angelina narrowed her eyes. “Why do you want me to hit you first?”

“Because, if I hit you first I’m going to look bad when I tell this story later,” I said.

“You look bad regardless.”

“You have all the appeal of a dirty toilet,” I replied.

“You … .” Angelina flew to the side, crashing against the Dumpster as a flurry of black filled the spot she’d just been standing in.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” I howled as the wraith focused on me. “You couldn’t wait five minutes? I’ve been waiting to beat her ass for fifteen years. You have the worst timing ever.”

“Aisling Grimlock.”

“You’re like a broken record,” I grumbled. “I know you can’t touch me, so you’d better just … step off.”

“Come,” the wraith ordered. “Follow.”

“No.”

“What is that thing?” Angelina was sitting on the ground, her hand moving through her long hair as she regarded the wraith. “I thought you killed it?”

“There’s more than one, moron.”

“You’re a freak. I always knew it. You just keep proving it.”

“You’re a freak.”

“Come,” the wraith repeated.

I ignored it and moved over to Angelina’s side, watching the shadow out of the corner of my eye as I bent down. “Did you hit your head?”

“Yes.”

“Did you lose consciousness?”

“No.”