Page 9 of Jett

RAINE

I’M STILL SHAKING WHENI throw on Grim’s flannel and button it up. It’s soft and worn, and it smells like laundry detergent and the faint scent of motor oil. It’s comforting.

I saw him kill a man tonight. I shouldn’t be comforted by anything belonging to this man, but I am. Grim is like the older brother I never had, and despite the stoic violence that ended a man’s life without a second thought, he’s a good man. It seems the good men are the ones who suffer the most.

I press my palms into my puffy eyes and exhale a loud, shaky breath as I head out of the bedroom to the kitchen. He’s at the stove, stirring the contents of a pan, and the rich scent of creamy mushroom soup infiltrates my senses. Grim glances at me, the spoon slipping from his hands and landing in the pot as soup splatters his faded jeans and white shirt.

The fireplace crackles and I glance at it. Blue and green flames burst from the hearth as they consume what I assume is our clothing, and when I look back at Grim, his eyes are fixed on my face.

“Sorry about the clothes. I don’t have anything smaller.”

“It’s okay. The shirt’s pretty comfortable. Can I help?”

“Yeah, grab me some bowls from the second cupboard on the left there, will ya?”

I hurry to the other side of the kitchen and pull the bowls from the cabinet, setting them on the counter beside him.

“Thanks.” He ladles the soup into each bowl and takes one—along with the board containing a loaf of crusty bread—and sets them on the scarred, wooden coffee table. I bring the other and sit beside him on a cracked and worn leather couch.

The pup is curled up by the fire, seemingly unfazed by the way it pops and crackles as it consumes our clothes. “I didn’t know you had a dog.”

“Yep.”

“What’s her name?”

“Lolita.” He blows on his soup and swallows a spoonful. “Lola for short.”

“You have a Chihuahua named Lolita?” A nervous laugh bubbles out of my throat.

“Yep,” he says, staring at the tiny furball.

“I didn’t know you were a fan of ... literature ... or dogs.”

“Yeah, well, she seduced me, so it fit. I went to the pound lookin’ for a Dobermann and came back with an invalid Chihuahua. She can’t see or hear worth a damn, but she understands me all the same.”

“She’s really cute.”

We eat in silence, because what is there to say? Every time I close my eyes, I feel that man’s hands on my body, hear the pop of the bullet from Grim’s gun, and see my attacker’s head exploding. I’m shaking so hard I nearly drop my bowl, and I can only manage a few spoonfuls before my stomach threatens to revolt.

“It’s not your fault, Raine. None of this is your fault. Fuck, I never wanted club business to interfere with you.”

I take several shaky breaths and look around the room. I don’t want to talk about this. I don’t want to keep reliving that scene over and over again. So I just nod, and will my hands to stop trembling.

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