CHAPTER 27 - GRIZZ
“Come on, now. Come and sit.” Her voice is clipped, patience clearly wearing thin.
I look over the room once more, my back to the door, the final barrier between her and Jovie, but everything seems to be in place.
No thrown books or slashed cushions. The bedroom door is ajar and from what I can see it's all still intact.
“Sit, Grizz.” She snaps. Her hand reaching for something out of sight. The heavy clunk of her handgun being placed firmly where I can see it.
Fuck.
“It smells good. What did you say it was again?” I ask, slowly moving to the table and taking a seat on the opposite side to where she works. At least from this vantage point, I can see if she reaches for the gun.
“Apple pie. I know it's your favorite, and I wanted to celebrate with a little something nice for us to share.”
Fun fact about me, I hate apple pie. Pumpkin pie, yes, but if I’m having pie, I want it to be creamy and sweet, not whatever the fuck apple pie is.
Her shoulders seem to drop a little the more we talk.
Whatever delusion this is feeding into, I might be able to use it to my advantage, and if I have to choke back some apple pie to get the information I need, then fuck yes it’s my favorite food.
“Sounds delicious.” I try to sound up-beat, but at most, I grunt the words out. Hopefully, this is all just buying time for Jovie to get help or until she tells me what I need to hear and I decide if I need to kill her.
“Okay, I know you must be hungry so I've made some snacks for you while the pie cooks. Do you want wine or beer?” Her smile is wide as she places down a snackboard with pantry staples on it. Nothing like a pickle to calm the situation.
“I saw your mom at the Krampus parade?” I float the idea of Victoria but other than her eyelids rapidly blinking several times, she maintains her smile. “She came and got Brynn but I haven't seen her after that. I saw Victoria, though… at the Gallows.”
Her laugh is high pitched, slapping her flour covered fingers against her thighs.
“You saw mother, did you. That bitch got everything that was coming to her.” Walking around the table, she pulls out the chair next to me, sitting as close as possible, almost groveling as she says, “We can be together now. She won't stop us anymore.”
What. the. Fuck.
Taking hold of her hands so carelessly placed upon my thighs, I restrain her.
She doesn't notice my grip and dips her head to her chest, smiling to herself over something. What does she mean, be together? Sarah knows I’m with Brynn.
She was happy when we got together, wasn’t she?
We've had a few after work drinks over the years but nothing to warrant this sort of attention.
She was someone who needed help, an escape from Victoria's claws and we let her into our fold without hesitation.
“We can finally be together, Grizz,” she murmurs. “I know you were trying to make me jealous with Brynn but she won’t be a problem.” Looking up at me, her gaze warm and tender. “Grizz,” she whispers, trying to move one of her hands from my grip.
“There’s nothing between us, Sarah. There’s never been anything between us.”
“Don’t say that,” she panics. “It’s always been you and me, ever since that first day at the bar. You practically screamed you were in love with me.”
“Sarah, you're wrong. Nothing like that happened.” I'm trying to be compassionate but every minute spent with this is another away from Brynn. Tightening my hold on her wrists, “There is no you and me. I'm with Brynn.”
“No! You said you loved me. We had to keep it a secret, no one could find out about us but then you went and ruined it.” The words froth in her mouth, the hatred spilling over like a tidal wave.
I have no clue who this person is in front of me.
She's not the Sarah I've worked with all these years.
She's erratic and delusional. I would have seen her like this before.
How have I not seen it?
Glancing to the kitchen, I confirm the gun is still on the bench where she left it. A small silver lining from her proximity.
“Where’s Brynn?” I ask, hoping she will start rambling and spill it all.
Her mouth upturns, teeth clenched together. “Stop talking about her.” Her face contorts, eyes clamping shut as she tries to yank her hands away. “She wasn’t good enough for you!”
“Where is she?” I try again, growling out the words, trying to control the rage simmering away below the surface.
Her head jerks, an unnatural movement, tilting her ear to the ceiling. “You won’t get to her in time,” she cackles. “Mother tried controlling me for years, sneaking medication into my food without me knowing. For years she was doing it, controlling my behaviour, but I found out.”
She’s like a horror film come to life. Her face flicking between calm and loving to violent and destructive. As if there were two different people fighting for control. Pulling her into me, she's half off her chair and I get a better look at her neck, a familiar red rash exposed in the light.
Stinging nettle.
Exploding from my seat I drag her to the front door, flinging it open to find the barrel of a gun practically pushed into my forehead.
“Fuck.”
“Sorry, brother. Jovie found us.” Duke pants, like he ran a marathon to get here.
Sarah stands like a statue, clocking Duke immediately in front of us, Jovie and Michael a few metres behind. The sight of our two prospects easing some of the tension I was facing.
“Where’s my mom?” Jovie asks, her voice shaking. Duke moves to the side and I see my little girl reach into her jacket. Her hand slowly withdrawing a gun. One of the spare glocks the guys keep in their rooms. One, we so diligently practiced on.
“Baby girl.”
“Where’s my mom?” Silent tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Your mom. Your Mom!” Sarah shrieks.
Jovie lifts the gun, pointing it in our direction. Michael's eyes flare, reaching out his hands trying to get her attention but it won't work. I see the conviction. The fear.
The bang of a door slamming open sounds in the distance, heavy footsteps crunching on the snow until four figures emerge from the shadows, all taking stock of the situation.
Mac walks quietly behind Jovie, whispering words only she can hear, her hand dropping as soon as he holds her shoulder.
Quickly securing it, he bends down, picking her up and holding her tightly against him.
Pressing her head into the crook of his neck, the muffled cry of “I want my mommy,” springs me into action.
Practically throwing Sarah down the few steps of the porch, Hades catches her as she flails her arms in the air.
“Don't let her go,” I yell over my shoulder.
Her words, “You’re too late,” echoing across the forest as I sprint toward the perimeter gate.
I can hear movement behind me but I'm not stopping until I get to her, quickly unlocking the gate with trembling fingers.
The woodland is a little more dense in this area, the moonlight struggling to get through.
Snow makes the ground easy to see but its juxtaposition of light greys and sharp blacks, not enough for me to tell if she's even in this area.
“Brynn, baby. Can you hear me? Call out to me.”
I'm desperate. Usually I would never give my position away like this.
I don't know if Sarah had help and after what she said I’m starting to rethink if Victoria was the bad guy at all or if she was simply trying to control her daughter in the only way she knew how.
My breath catches in my chest, my lungs not working the way they should.
“Brynn,” I cry out. “Call out to me, baby.”
The silence is deafening. Nothing but white noise screaming inside my head.
Bright lights flash on around me, Blaze, Michael and Axel all shining their phone torches as they catch up to me. My head whipping back and forth, stumbling as I follow a path of disturbed snow. Until I see one crimson drop floating in a sea of white.
No.
I’m nearby where I found Bynn the day she hurt her hand.
The bulk of the stinging nettle is covered by snow but there is a patch that was half sheltered by a larger bush.
Blood trails from that spot for several meters.
A few drops turning to larger red patches until there’s only red.
Her boots come into view first. The shaking light of one of my brothers, slowly revealing more.
She faces away from us, her body laying still, absorbed into the coldness of the night.
My ears ring. A high pitched sound that leaves black spots in my vision. “No!” I roar. The sound so pained people would believe it was a creature formed in the depths of Hell. My knees buckle next to her, rolling her on her back, my fingers slick from blood.
“Brynn, baby. Don't leave me,” I gasp, begging anyone who will listen to save her.
People move around me but I don't know who. Pushing the hair off her face, I half pull her onto my lap, holding her against me. I need to get her warm.
She's just cold.
She's just cold.
Her head lolls back and I press my cheek against hers. “Don’t leave me, Brynn. I've only just found you,” I choke. The tightness in my throat making it hard to talk. The world has slowed until it's stopped. This moment forever cemented in time as the end.
End of my dreams.
End of my future.
End of my beginning.
My body is being shoved, a pulling at my arms while I cling to the last part of good that I had. The woman who walked into my life out of nowhere and saved me. My chest constricts and I hold her tighter against those trying to take her from me.
The only way is if they take me as well. I've heard the tales of people dying from a broken heart but I never believed you could suffer a pain so deep until now.
“Grizz! Let her go.”
Someone yells, but the sounds distorted like they're under water. The words wavering in and out of focus.
“Ambulance!” another person shouts. Everything is a little clearer. Figures moving around slowly speeding up until a sensory explosion erupts around me. Lights flickering, snow crunching, Brynn's body being pulled from mine.
“I’ve got a pulse!”
What?
Axel holds Brynn bridal style in his arms, racing toward the perimeter gate and away from me.
They found a pulse.
A lifeline.
She's not gone.
Deep breath in.
Count to four.