Chapter Nine
EMMA
Griffin leads me up to his apartment, carrying my travel bag over one shoulder, but he doesn’t dare utter a word. He’s giving me the space I need to process the bombshell he’s dropped on me. I’m left with so many questions, but I can’t formulate them into words.
Is this the reason I feel as if I can relate to the Whitefish Vigilante?
Have I somehow known, deep down, that it was Griffin all along?
I’ve thought about it for the entire drive over, and – even though it’s insane – maybe I felt it through some cosmic connection.
A part of my soul’s connected to his, and we’ve shared secrets without saying a word.
It’s romantic nonsense I’m telling myself to process the information.
It’s not true. Not at all. But I have to reason it out somehow, I have to make sense of it.
Otherwise, am I as crazy as he is? I feel no difference in me, even now I know his secret.
Christ, a part of me even finds him hotter, now.
I can’t stand it. I want to be angry and upset; scared even. But there isn’t a part of me that feels those emotions. I’m inspired, invigorated, dare I say, excited?
“Here we are,” he says for something to say, as he unlocks his front door and ushers me inside.
Griffin’s apartment is exactly as I’ve pictured it. The entrance has nothing but a keyholder against the wall, leading into a sparsely furnished living room. A coffee table sits with last night’s beer cans on it, and a flat-screen TV, a two-seater sofa, and a single-person recliner fill the space.
Not exactly cozy.
“Your place is… nice,” I say.
“It’s somewhere to lay my head, nothing more, nothing less.”
“You’re not here, often?”
“No, between my day job and my nights, there’s not much reason to be.”
He sets my bag down, before leading me into the kitchen. Like the living room, there isn’t much in the way of things on the countertops. A toaster sits on the counter. Beside it are the oven and fridge. He fetches a beer and a can of soda.
“I didn’t mean to scare you, Emma.” Griffin leans against the kitchen counter, cracking both cans open. “I want you to understand who I am. What I am. You showed me a different side of you tonight, and now it’s my turn.”
“Way to one-up me,” I chuckle. Griffin doesn’t. “I’m not scared, Griffin. Not of you.”
I take the can of soda in one hand and cup his cheek in the other. Griffin leans into it.
“Why do you do it?” I ask.
Griffin sighs, hot breath against the palm of my hand.
“There’s a darkness in this world, Emma. Horrible, twisted cruelty that only comes through in perceived strength. You witnessed it first-hand tonight. Followed home by a lunatic who took advantage of your father’s drunken state and your… weakness.”
The word weakness stings my chest. I am weak. At least I have been until now, I think again. I’m not timid but I have been and I have locked up. I’m a woman living in a man’s world; what can I do to change that?
“I do it because I want to give the weak their strength. I act when nobody else will. I am a protector.” Griffin’s stern face doesn’t break as he speaks. Those impenetrable blue eyes never leave mine.
I understand him, and I’m rooting for him, too.
“Isn’t there a better way than killing them?”
The corner of Griffin’s lip lifts up. “No. They don’t deserve the honor of living the rest of their days on this earth after what they’ve done.”
What have they done? Who do you kill? Are they really monsters?
These questions have a time and a place, but it’s not tonight. I fear the answers more than I care to admit. In time, I want to learn everything about my father’s best friend. But I don’t want to push him too hard either.
“What are we going to do about the guy?” I ask, shifting the subject.
Getting revenge is way more enticing now, than learning about Griffin’s dark past. We’ll learn more about each other over the years we spend together. Right now, I want to see the Vigilante at work.
“We? We’re not doing anything. You’re going back to your life as normal, while I deal with this myself.” Griffin takes a sip of his beer.
“Life as normal?” What? No. Not after tonight, I can’t go back to the mundanity of this life. I could be at Griffin’s side; I could help him in this fight against monsters.
“Yes. I can’t have you wrapped up in my shit. You’re not ready for it.”
“Not ready?”
“In time you’ll understand, until then you have to trust me.”
“Trust you?” It comes out as a screech, louder than I’d have liked.
“Yes. I want you to go to work tomorrow and pretend none of tonight’s events ever happened.
I told the boys in blue it was a home invasion and I happened to be around.
They’ll be looking for someone who doesn’t exist. You, Mark, and I are the only people who know what this guy looks like.
” Griffin pauses for another sip of beer, this time sucking down half the can.
“In your dad’s state, I doubt he’ll remember much. ”
“He was drunk, not braindead. He’s going to remember.” I raise a brow.
“I’m very persuasive when I want to be. A few well-placed words to confuse him, and your father will forget.”
Griffin’s a different person from the man at the barbeque. When he speaks of his work as the Vigilante, he has a terrifyingly cold and tactical stoicism about him.
“The press doesn’t release pictures of the victims anyway. There won’t be a way to link this prick to me.” He turns away as he says it. “Life goes on as normal. It’s the only way to rid the world of this bastard.”
“Why do you feel so strongly about it?” I ask, mimicking Griffin’s pose. I lean against one of the bar counters, cross my arms, and muster up my best stern gaze.
“Because he hurt you, and he has to pay for that.”
“Why am I so special?”
“Long ago, I made a vow to protect you, Emma. I never go back on a promise.”
The way he says it tickles my heart and cracks my fa?ade. My cheeks burn red hot, and I hide my face away from Griffin.
He’s dangerous; a killer, and I should be scared.
I’m not.
Griffin Kennedy, my monster slayer.
***
GRIFFIN
This is going surprisingly well.
When I started this venture into honesty, I was certain Vincent Daniels would come to the forefront at some point.
Where I’d tell the truth about anything Emma asked.
He hasn’t. Well, I’m not going to over-extend myself.
This is a big enough bombshell to deal with as it is.
I can’t imagine how it’s going to hurt to find out about her first encounter with a real demon. With Vincent Daniels.
But I’ve shared enough stories. It’s time to get to work.
“What do you want me to do?” Emma asks. She wants to be involved, but I can’t let her. Not knowingly. The idea of vengeance is sweet in theory and tormenting in action. She’s not ready to walk down this hellish path. Maybe I can still stop her from becoming like me.
“I want you to go to work and continue as normal,” I say. “The fewer people who know what’s happened tonight, the better.”
I won’t find this scumbag wandering the streets, but I know he’ll make another appearance at Legends. People like him can’t help themselves. This time, I’ll be ready.
“I can help you.” Emma pushes off the kitchen counter and walks towards me. “We can do this together.”
“I want to keep you safe.” As safe as I can while dangling you on the end of a hook, that is. “You won’t be safe if you’re involved.”
Emma stops in front of me. I tower over her tiny frame. There’s a hint of sadness in her eye and a quiver on her pouting lip. She’s not happy with my response. She wants to see her attacker suffer.
Someday, perhaps, but not this time. She’s too close to it. It’s too personal.
“I understand.”
Not the words I expected to hear. Relief washes over me.
Maybe all hope isn’t lost after all.