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When Gracie Met the Grump(15)

Author:Mariana Zapata

Not that I’d had that many of those, or much less one in a long time, but…

One dark eyelid peeled back.

I looked at him.

He looked at me.

Then I gave him another weak smile even as I thought he was way too beautiful to be real, because he really was. I couldn’t get over it. At least I wasn’t stuttering or staring though. I wasn’t gaping at being in his presence. I could be proud of myself later.

Not a single muscle in his features moved. Not a half smile or a quarter smile. I got nothing.

At least one of us had some fucking sense.

But The Defender stared in a way that might have made me nervous if I didn’t know how injured he was. I was pretty sure, at this point, I could push him over and run if it came down to it. Not that I would.

Unless it was life or death. Then I’d be seeing his ass later.

“Call me… whatever you want,” he muttered.

That was real helpful.

And friendly.

But it was a good thing he liked his secrets and knew how to keep them. I needed to take notes. Less talking, more grunting. Keep my mouth shut. Feed him, sponge bathe him, shut up.

He sniffed again as his eyes drifted closed. “I’ll be going back to rest,” he said quietly.

“Does that mean you’re going to be out for a few days again?” I asked and got a peek of an eyeball before I raised my hands in defense. “Just asking so I’m not worried you’re in a coma.”

That got him to close his eye before finally sighing, “Yes.” He settled deeper into the bed. His arms were at his sides, slightly away from his big, motionless body. He looked half-asleep when he whispered, “If you see… or hear of anything about… them… tell me.”

Them? The Trinity? “Okay, sure.”

But was it them we had to worry about? Why wasn’t he trying to get in contact with them?

One purple eyeball opened yet again and peered at me, almost expectantly, like he knew something else was bouncing around in my head. I definitely needed to shut up, but I had to get this off my chest. I didn’t want there to be any surprises and might as well do it now.

Might as well take my shot. “Can I tell you something real quick?” I croaked.

It took a moment—where he probably thought about telling me no—but he sighed.

Good enough for me.

“I promise I won’t hurt you or put you at risk. I’ll try my best to do what I can until you’re ready to leave, and I’ll do whatever I can to keep your presence a secret. But…” I swallowed hard. “Would you mind promising me that if anyone shows up here to try and finish whatever it was they did to you, that you won’t kill me in retaliation if I run away? I know that makes me a coward, but there’s nothing I would be able to do other than sacrifice my life in vain to help you, and I said, if anyone deserved a sacrifice, it’s you and the other Trinity members, but I made a promise to someone that I would try my best to live a decent, long life, and I made that promise before I met you. I’m the last person alive in my family. I just don’t want there to be any misunderstandings between us,” I straight-up went on. “I don’t want you to haunt me.”

He didn’t laugh.

And if my request surprised him or even irritated him in its honesty, it didn’t reflect on his features. Not even a little bit. The Defender stared at me through that slit of his eye, probably weighing my cowardice, or the very value of my soul, who the fuck knew, before saying in a rough, tired voice, “Fine.”

That easy, huh?

The Defender, The Primordial, and The Centurion were the three most important entities in the world. But at the same time, they’d only been around for twenty-something years. The world had been around before them, and it would be around after them—probably. The same as anyone else.

All life impacts the world, some lives just more directly than others. I knew that better than anyone.

I cleared my throat and squeezed my fingers. “One more question. Do you think it’s safe for me to go for a run at night? Or do you think somebody’s around here and they’ll try and get me to get to you?”

He didn’t even look at me as he closed his eyes and said, so quietly I had to strain, “Do whatever you want.”

Wow, I thought, as his breath rattled and he fell back asleep that easily.

In midconversation.

If I had holy water, I would have put some in a spray bottle and squirted him with it, just to see what happened.

Was talking to me that much torture? I didn’t think I was that awkward or annoying. If I’d been born to any other life, I might have had a lot of friends—if I hadn’t grown up to be so paranoid and watch every word I spoke to strangers. When I tried, I got along with people pretty well. I was trying my best not to talk a lot so that I wouldn’t say something I shouldn’t. I was trying my best to take care of him, the ungrateful…

I peered at his sleeping face.

He wasn’t at all what I’d expected. Not even a little bit. I doubt he was what anyone expected. A crabby, bossy, six-foot-something man. The thought felt like it should have been sacrilegious, but it was the truth.

He was pretty arrogant, and it wasn’t as if he’d talked to me all that much in the first place.

For about the hundredth time, I wondered what exactly I’d gotten myself into.

Lifting my head, I looked around the small bedroom that had been part of my world for the last chunk of my life and remembered how the hell I’d ended up here. No knickknacks, just a single picture of me as a little girl with my grandparents at the park. The rest of my pictures were split between a box in the closet and my safe deposit box. I remembered what had been taken from me before I’d even had a choice.

Everything, that was what.

I would have done anything to be normal. For the chance to have an existence that wasn’t built on so many fucking lies, on bone-softening loneliness that I called privacy to keep my sanity. To be able to totally be myself without fear of repercussion.

Unfortunately, I had to live with the fact that I wasn’t sure that was ever going to be possible.

If I was lucky, dealing with him now might be the most stressful shit I ever went through.

If I wasn’t lucky… I didn’t want to know.

“Boa noite. Good night,” I told my Brazilian student with a wave before logging out of the chat we’d been in for the last hour.

After rubbing my forehead for a second, I gently tugged my wig off and set it on the mannequin head next to my computer. It had been really expensive, and I babied the crap out of it. I’d underestimated how hard it would be to find a shade of blonde that complimented my skin tone. Then, just as carefully, I took the nylon hose that covered my hair and put it beside the wig so I could have everything ready for my next lesson later tonight; he was a nice man in Seoul who was brushing up on his conversational skills before his job transferred him.

Being an English teacher hadn’t been my dream job, but I was really grateful that I’d grown into it so much. That I enjoyed it. It ate up the worst of my loneliness. Getting to talk to these people who paid to work with me was what kept me going. It was something to look forward to. I rarely got off a lesson with something other than a smile.

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