23. Grimm
23
GRIMM
Verena dashes to Aspen, dragging her to the living room to drain every detail from her. My phone goes off, a loud ping within the silence and I hop out of bed to fish the device out of my pants.
Dad
Dinner on Saturday at 7. Excited to see you. Can you bring a dessert? Your sister and I are putting together a last minute birthday celebration for Greer.
I roll my eyes at the idea of doing anything nice for Greer. Dude’s the biggest prick I’ve met in this lifetime. He doesn’t deserve an ounce of celebration towards his life. I’ll celebrate when he’s six feet under.
Greer was my childhood bully. Yeah, older siblings pick on you and beat you up, but he took shit to the next level.
Swiping out of the message thread, I click on my conversation with Emmett. Blair is missing and I haven’t heard from him? A while back he drunk himself into oblivion over god-knows-what. I can’t imagine what he’d do if something happened to her.
Me
Hey bro, just checking in. Everything all good?
V storms back into the room and asks, “Have you heard anything from Emmett?” I shake my head, not wanting to say it out loud.
“Yeah. I got Blair’s voicemail. Aspen’s been texting her for hours and hasn’t gotten anything back.” Verena sighs.
“She shouldn’t be alone. Stay with her and I’ll get in touch with Emmett. Let me know if you hear from Blair. I’ll be back.” I promise, kissing the crown of her head and slipping out of the window. Hurrying back to my house, I text Eli to let him know we’ve got a problem.
Me
Emmett MIA. Blair, too. Be on standby.
Eli
Fuck.
Got it.
As if Emmett going missing wasn’t enough for one day, Baron called to tell me whoever was supposed to pick up the bags of…Leo, flaked. My mind shifts to a playful idea Verena had when we spoke about what to do with Leo’s remains and I wonder if she’d be willing to go through with it.
“Where the hell could they be?” I think out loud, pacing Eli’s room. Verena stayed at her place with Aspen. She’s in so much distress about Blair’s uncertain status, and I know Verena is feeling it too. It’s one thing when you know something sinister is going on, it’s another when you’re directly affected or affected by association.
The guys and I are at the house, waiting to hear from Emmett.
A call comes through and I reach for my phone so quickly, it slips out of my hand and Eli catches it. He looks at the name and then tosses it back, “Verena. Potentially useless.”
I imagine daggers shooting out at him from my eyes, directly into his. I know he means she most likely has no new information but there’s a million other ways to say that. Picking up the phone, Verena skips the formalities and gives me her update.
“Still no word from Blair. There’s really nothing for us to do except wait to hear from one of them? What about some fancy location trackers?” Verena questions.
Walking downstairs and into the kitchen, I pour myself a glass of whiskey and down it. “Trackers have to be implanted. We don’t have trackers, at least, none that I know of.” My hand skims over the skin of my neck and behind my ears, double-checking that I’m not sporting an unknown chip beneath the surface of my skin.
“While I have you, there’s something I need to tell you. The pickup for Leo was delayed and so I was wondering if we could use Plan B.” I say, my voice low. Silence greets me at the other end of the line.
“What was Plan B?” She asks.
I chuckle. “You know, make it into something delicious and deliver it to someone insufferable.”
She chokes on a laugh and my smile grows. “We’re going to make one hundred pounds of lasagna and deliver it to our enemies?”
Her giggles grow louder and my heart aches to hear it in person. She laughs a lot now and it’s the most beautiful sound ever made. A slight lump forms in my throat when the realization hits. I’ve always known I love her. But now I get the chance to fall in love with her. That’s the greatest thing in life I may ever experience.
No drug, kill, or bit of blood can compare to what she does to me.
Her laughter slows and she continues, “Alright. Which tunnel leads to a kitchen because there’s no way in hell I’m cooking Leo in my house.”
“Oh, of course not, darling. We have a wonderful kitchen down there. State of the art. You will love it.” Chuckling, I down my second glass of whiskey, when my phone rings. Emmett’s name flashes on the screen and I pick up without a second thought, ending my call with Verena. “Long time, no talk. Nice to finally hear from you.”
Emmett goes on a tirade about his dad being behind the disappearances. He orders me to bring James to the shed behind their house and sends me his location. I hang up, inform the guys, and shoot V a quick text.
Me
He’s okay. Meeting him now. I’ll update you later.
Her reply comes back quickly. My heart melts and my dick hardens at her words.
Verena
Stay safe.
VERENA
Leila
Hello, Verena. Haven’t heard from Leo in a few days. I’m sure he’s busy but can you just let him know that Mommy is missing him and just wanted to talk? Thanks.
My eyes roll so far back, they almost get stuck. I leave her on read and toss the phone to the side. My mind is occupied by the lack of Blair’s presence. She walked the straight and narrow. She always had her nose in a book, what trouble could she have possibly gotten into? Aspen has been a mess and I’ve spent most of this time comforting her. She hasn’t been able to spend a single second alone. Eli has been ordering us take-out for dinner because we don’t have the energy to think or cook.
I have to admit, it’s been nice to be part of a circle of people who care for one another. Aspen, Grimm, and even Eli, they’re like this newfound family I don’t ever want to let go of.
When Leila’s texts go unanswered by me, there’s no concern for my well being. I understand Leo is her son, but this family has known me throughout my entire college experience and there’s not an ounce of concern for me. In fact, her texts went from “innocent mother looking for her son,” to “vile bitch showing her true colors” and I’m so thankful that soon, I’ll never have to see or hear from her again.
When you pop a kid out of your cunt, I don’t think you expect to become one. I’m sure Leila didn’t anticipate it but she’s a fully fledged “C U Next Tuesday.”
Leila
Is everything okay with Leo? He’s not answering and I’m getting worried.
Did you tell him to ignore my calls, you little wrench? Why isn’t he answering his phone?
If you don’t tell me where my son is, I’m going to the police. I just went to his apartment and he clearly hasn’t been home for days.
I always knew you were evil, your clothing–if you can even call it that–was convincing enough, but I’m sure you did something to my son.
Fucking brewha.
My heart pounds ferociously at her words as my blood pressure spikes along with my anxiety. I snap a screenshot and send it to Grimm. His response is almost immediate.
Grimm
What a bitch. If you want to take her out too, let me know. But I’m sure once she’s tasted your lasagna, she’ll turn a corner.
We’re in the clear. I promise. Don’t stress about it, little monster.
I miss you.
He’s been on a vengeance streak with Emmett for the last couple of days. Grimm gave me all the details about Blair’s disappearance. He keeps true to his word and updates me regularly, sometimes with too much detail. I delete our messages periodically because I’m so goddamn paranoid he’s going to get my ass thrown into jail with the stories he tells me.
I need to speak with Eli and have him wipe it all from the inter-web for good. Before that, I have some meal prep to do.
Huffing out a breath, I look at Leila’s messages again. The utter disbelief that courses through my veins sets ablaze my anger. I do what I do best and laugh about the situation at hand, because if I don’t, I’ll spiral.
Looking at Leila’s texts, my mind dissociates to that night underground with Leo and Grimm. The machete driving straight through his chest and tearing him to pieces. A laugh of relief bubbles up my throat at the reminder that Leo is no longer in control of my life.
But if I want to successfully deliver my Leo-sagna to her, I need her to think I’m innocent in his disappearance.
Me
We aren’t together. I haven’t heard much from him lately, either.
Can I stop by this weekend? I would love to have a chance to say a formal goodbye.
Also, it's bruja.
I fucking hate playing nice. I’d much rather keep to myself because it drains me a lot less than plastering a fake smile on my face to empathize with twatwaffles.
Her response comes in faster than it usually took Leo to get it up.
Leila
Whatever.
Saturday at 6.
A devious smirk splays on my lips as I feel a sense of accomplishment in weaseling my way into her house one last time to serve up delicious, meaty revenge.