Chapter 5
Grim
I park in my usual spot at the clinic.
Another elderly lady, called Eldra, sits in the passenger seat next to me. She hums softly to herself like this is a pleasant outing instead of what it really is. She’s a petite elderly female shifter with silver hair pinned up in a neat bun and kind eyes that make guilt twist in my gut.
I climb out and walk around to help Eldra from the vehicle. She’s chatted non-stop since I picked her up.
“Are we here?” she asks, as I open the passenger door.
I nod and grunt an affirmation.
“Oh, good. How lovely.” She takes my arm as we head toward the entrance, humming a cheerful tune. “You are so big,” she tells me, craning her neck.
I grunt again.
“Don’t talk much, do you?”
“No.”
“That’s okay.” She smiles. “I like the big, silent types.” She winks at me.
Every instinct is screaming at me to tell her not to go in, to run instead. To never get that vaccination.
But I can’t. Not yet. Hopefully soon. Maybe even this time next year. I have to get to those doses.
No fucking pressure.
For now, I have to keep playing my part. Even if it makes me sick to my stomach.
As much as I hate to admit it, Kaine wasn’t crazy. He was right. The Mainland is controlling us. And I’ve been their enforcer, their muscle, dragging people in to get poisoned.
My hands clench into fists at my sides.
The door chimes as we enter. Sally looks up from her computer and gives me her usual warm smile.
“Morning, Grim.” Her eyes shift to Eldra. “Good morning. You must be Eldra.”
“I am indeed.” The elderly female smiles. “I’m so sorry I’m a bit late for my appointment.”
“No, you’re right on time, thanks to Grim,” Sally says. She types something into her computer. “One of our nurses will be with you shortly. You can have a seat, if you like.”
I find myself wishing it were Sally who had access to the vaccinations. She already likes me well enough. There would be no complications.
But no. She’s just the receptionist. The nurses are the ones with the access I need.
Sally waves us toward one of the treatment rooms. “You can go through to Room Two.”
I guide Eldra down the hallway, my pulse picking up. Time to put Drake’s plan into action. Time to make friends.
Fuck my life.
The door to Room Two is open. Inside, a human female with blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail is preparing a tray of supplies. She glances up when we enter, and I quickly look at her name badge.
Emma Scott.
Not Wren.
Thank fuck. I’m going to give that particular female a wide berth.
“Good morning.” Emma smiles at Eldra, then her gaze shifts to me, and the smile tightens.
I help Eldra up onto the exam table. She gives a grateful sigh.
Then I turn to Emma and smile. I can do this.
I can!
It feels wrong. Like my face doesn’t remember how to do this anymore.
“Hello,” I growl.
The word comes out rough and harsh, more animal than human. Emma actually takes a step back, her eyes widening.
Shit. Fuck! What the hell is wrong with me?
“Um…” Emma glances at Eldra, then back at me. “Is everything okay?”
“Fine,” I force out, trying to soften my expression. My face feels stiff. Uncooperative. “Just…how are you?” It’s a very normal thing to ask, isn’t it?
Emma blinks at me like I’ve grown a second head. “I’m…good?” It comes out as a question. She’s still watching me warily, like I might lunge at her.
This is going well.
Not!
Fuck.
Eldra is smiling, looking between us.
“Um, sorry,” I say. “I’m Grim, by the way.” Maybe she’s new here.
“I know who you are,” Emma says. She sets down the syringe she was preparing and studies me with concern. “Are you feeling okay? You’re acting…strange.”
Strange. Great. That’s exactly the impression I want to make.
I nod, probably too enthusiastically. “Fine. I’m fine.”
She turns to Eldra, pulling on a fresh pair of gloves. “You must be Eldra. I’m Emma. I’ll be administering your vaccination today.”
“Such a lovely young lady,” Eldra says, completely oblivious to the awkward tension in the room.
Emma starts going through her routine. Checking Eldra’s file. Asking about previous reactions. Preparing the vaccination.
I stand there like a fucking idiot, trying to think of something to say. Something normal people say when they’re being friendly.
“Anything I can help with?” I ask.
Emma freezes. She slowly turns to look at me, and I swear she’s trying to figure out if I’m joking.
“You want to…help?” She narrows her eyes.
“Sure.” I shove my hands in my pockets. “If you need anything.”
“I’m vaccinating a patient,” Emma says carefully, like she’s talking to someone who might be having a mental breakdown. “There’s nothing for you to help with. You should give Eldra some privacy.” She widens her eyes at me.
“Right. Of course.” I nod again. Why do I keep nodding? “I’ll just…be outside, then.”
I point at the door like she needs a visual representation of what “outside” means.
Emma is still staring at me. “Okaaaaaay.”
“Okay,” I repeat, because apparently, I’ve forgotten how conversations work.
I back toward the door, nearly trip over my own feet, and escape into the hallway.
I lean against the wall outside the treatment room and resist the urge to punch something. I suck at making friends. That much is clear.
Sally is watching me from the reception desk with a concerned expression. “Everything okay?”
I grunt and walk over to her desk.
She cocks her head and scrutinizes me. “You look a little…shellshocked.”
Do I? Fuck.
“I’m fine.”
She scrutinizes me for a moment longer and then nods. Sally turns to her computer and pulls up something on the screen. “I’ve got the information on your next pickup. Should be in your inbox.”
I nod, pulling out my phone to check. But my mind is still spinning.
“Um…that nurse…um…Emma. Has she been working at the center long?”
Sally’s eyebrows shoot up. “Emma?” She looks at me strangely. “Yes, she’s been here the longest. Almost four years now. She’s mated to one of the shifters on the island. They have three children.” She pauses. “Why?”
Crap!
It’s clear that I haven’t really looked at anyone here. I’ve taken zero note of any of them.
I scratch the back of my neck. “Someone pointed out to me that maybe I haven’t been…great to work with. That maybe I could be nicer.”
The words feel awkward and forced, but they’re true. If I think about it, I’ve kind of been cruising along in limbo. I’ve been going through the motions on autopilot. “Numb” is the right word.
Sally leans back in her chair, studying me. “Did you get into trouble? Did someone file a complaint about you?”
“Not exactly.” I shift my weight. “But I thought about it, and maybe it’s time I was a little nicer. Only problem is…” I trail off, not sure how to finish that sentence without sounding like a complete asshole.
“You don’t know how to be nice?” Sally finishes for me, and there’s amusement in her voice.
I grunt, which I guess is confirmation enough.
Sally laughs.
“It’s not that funny,” I grumble.
“Oh, it kind of is.” She’s still grinning. “Okay, let me give you some pointers. First, maybe don’t growl when you’re trying to say hello. I’ve heard you do it.”
“I don’t.” I shrug.
“You do. That’s when you even say hello. You normally don’t greet at all.” She holds up a hand. “Second, work on your smile. I’ve never seen you smile. Not even once.”
I scowl. “I can smile.”
I go through the motions, and Sally cracks up laughing all over again.
“Stop that!” I growl through clenched teeth. “I’m trying here.”
“Try harder. Practice in the mirror if you have to.” She taps her fingers on her desk, her eyes lifted in thought. “People appreciate small talk. Ask how someone’s day is going. Comment on the weather. Make eye contact but don’t stare them down like you’re about to challenge them to a fight.”
She knows me well.
I sigh because this is a lot more complicated than I thought it would be.
“Also,” Sally says, her expression becoming more serious.
“It has to be authentic. If it’s not genuine, people are going to pick up on it, and they won’t like it.
You need to actually mean it, Grim. Or just leave well alone.
There’s nothing wrong with you. I agree, you could work on a few basics, but don’t try to change who you are. ”
I grunt in response, because what else can I say? She’s right. I’ve been going through the motions, trying to force myself to be someone I’m not. And it’s showing.
Before I can respond, the door to Room Two opens. Emma walks out with Eldra, their conversation flowing naturally.
“…and then he climbed all the way to the top of the tree before I could stop him,” Eldra says with a laugh. “He jumped down in one leap and broke both his legs.”
“No!” Emma gasps.
“Oh, yes! My grandson is fearless. Gets it from his father. Thank goodness for our advanced healing.”
“You’d better believe it,” Emma says with a smile. She hands Eldra a small card. “This is your vaccination record. Keep it safe. You’re all set for another year.”
“Thank you, dear.” Eldra tucks the card into her purse.
Emma’s eyes shift to me, and I see her tense. I’m sure she thinks I’m nuts.
Time to try again. Sally said it has to be authentic, which was good advice.
“Thanks, Emma,” I say, being sure not to growl or attempt another smile.
Emma’s eyes narrow. She cocks her head to the side, studying me like I’m some kind of fascinating specimen.
Then, without a word, she turns and goes back into the treatment room. The door closes behind her with a soft click.
Sally barely contains her laugh. “Well, that went well.”
I shake my head.
“It’ll take time,” Sally says, still grinning. “You need to keep at it.”
Time is something I don’t have.
Eldra is looking between us with curiosity. “What’s this all about?”
“Grim is trying to be nicer,” Sally explains cheerfully. “He’s more of the silent type, usually.”
“Oh, I happen to like a male of few words and a whole lot of action,” Eldra says with a wink in my direction.
I’ll be damned if my cheeks don’t burn. I hope I haven’t gone bright red.
Sally laughs.
I give the receptionist what I hope is a death stare.
It’s fine, I tell myself as I guide Eldra toward the exit. There are three other nurses besides this Wren person. Surely one of them will soften to my attempts at friendship? I might still win Emma over. Who knows?
One way or another, in a couple of days, I’ll have a new bestie.
I walk Eldra to my SUV. I help her into the passenger seat.
“Thank you for being so kind today, dear. I really need to make more of an effort to keep up with technology.” She shakes her head.
Eldra told me earlier that she doesn’t have a cellphone or a computer to receive the reminders.
“I have an old cellphone I can give you,” I tell her. “I’ll set it all up for you and bring it by later.”
“No…” She flaps a hand. “That’s too much to ask.”
“It’s fine, really. I’ll even show you how to work it.”
“Only if you let me fix you dinner.”
Maybe I can work on my friendship skills.
“Sounds like a good exchange,” I tell her.
I have a stash of cheap and secondhand cellphones I keep for situations like this. Elderly shifters who fall through the cracks of the system because they’re not connected to the digital world the rest of us live in.
“Oh, Grim.” Her eyes are actually getting misty. “You’re an absolute sweetheart.”
“You should tell that to the nurses at the clinic,” I mumble to myself.
“What’s that, dear?”
“No problem at all,” I tell her as I pull away.