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When Gracie Met the Grump(33)

Author:Mariana Zapata

He huffed and closed his eyes again, dismissing me. “We’re getting out.”

So he said. I pressed my lips together.

The Defender took a short sniff as he settled against the floor like it wasn’t hard as a rock. “Don’t start snotting up. I don’t like the way… your tears smell.”

“I’m not going to cry,” I muttered in English.

Those bright purple eyes flashed briefly before he sighed. “Thirty-five.”

He was thirty-five? “Huh,” I muttered in pure surprise. I really wanted to ask why he was talking to me all of a sudden, but I didn’t want to ruin it. “You look younger.” Maybe it had been the sunburn on his face before, because now that his skin was less red, it was hard to believe he was thirty-five.

The Defender made a face that said he knew he did. A minute or two later, he spoke up again. “Your parents… that’s why you don’t have friends?”

We were still talking about this? I was already tired of talking of it, but fine, if we were actually being truthful, I could play, even if it felt so, so wrong. “Yeah. What kind of life would I be able to live if anyone found out? I told people my parents died in a car accident, and even then, it brought way too much attention. Even before they took the money, my grandparents didn’t want anyone to know the truth.” That was one of my oldest memories, them telling me to keep it a secret. To tell people that my mom and dad had died. We’d practiced. I hadn’t even known back then what death was.

I got a sniff and a very thoughtful expression that honestly surprised me.

“Are you and The Primordial together?” I asked him in a rush in Korean, without thinking.

The look of absolute disgust that came over his features would follow me for the rest of my life. “Fuck no.”

That was almost disappointing. And him using the f-word was still surprising. Double standards were real.

Then it was his turn to change the subject. “What happened to them?”

“I have no idea.”

He didn’t believe me. “You don’t know?”

“Not for sure. I didn’t really get a chance to ask them when they ignored my existence. I know they ran away, and every time we watched the news and body parts were found, I thought that maybe that was them. I’m pretty sure they aren’t alive anymore. I told you, I read a letter that my mom somehow got to them. I think through an aunt or something. We always had PO Boxes at post offices hours away from every place we lived; that had been my grandpa’s idea. Anyway, my mom thought they were going to be found and she was scared. She didn’t apologize, but it was written in a way that made me feel like she wanted them to help her or something. They didn’t. I think they didn’t want to put me at risk.” For one split second, I did what I never allowed myself to, and thought about what else I’d read in that short letter. Then I wiped it from my mind like I had every time before, and went on with my life.

“One day, a couple months after the letter arrived, I overheard my grandparents cry like someone had broken their hearts, all night, every night for weeks. They tried to hide it from me, but I knew they were upset about something and wouldn’t tell me what. I’m pretty sure they somehow found out something had happened, but I don’t know for sure.” I understood that some part of me should have been devastated—they were the reason I was alive in the first place—but I didn’t remember anything about them. It was like hearing a celebrity had passed away. I had no emotional connection to the two people who had only caused so much heartache in my life. I’d used those super-sharp imaginary scissors a long time ago and cut them out of my life.

It was complicated.

And I didn’t want to talk about them anymore, so my brain went for the next logical question it could possibly come up with. “Do you have a partner? A wife?” All right, I’d gone there. Too late now. I made the shape of a cross over my heart. “Our secret. Promise. Or if you’d like the reminder, chances are I’m really not getting out of here.”

The son of a bitch growled.

I stared at him for a moment, then somehow managed to smile a little. It really was kind of nice to not tiptoe around his ass so much anymore. “As good-looking as you are, it would take a very special person to deal with you, huh?”

That got me another world-class glare.

I smiled a little more.

“If I wanted a partner, I could find a partner,” he grumbled.

My nod was so serious, even I almost bought it. “I’m sure.” He was gorgeous after all. “As long as you didn’t actually open your mouth.”

The Defender blinked, then dropped his voice. “You know from experience?”

Oh boy.

Who was this man and where did the quiet, grumpy being go? And why was I eating this shit up? Was I that starved for attention? “I don’t know why you think I talk a lot, because I really don’t.”

Did he snicker?

“I’m only talking now because you deserve to know why we’re here, and I can’t stop worrying about the fact you might be the last person I ever talk to.”

The Defender raised an eyebrow slowly.

“So, are you rich?” I went for it again. “What? I don’t want your money. I’m being nosy, and you’ve been sharing more than I thought you would for some reason, so I’m going to take advantage of it since you ignored me for weeks.” I paused and changed the language again. “Do you like being… who you are?”

His face instantly went tight, and I could definitely tell I’d really gotten under his skin with that question. Part of me was shocked I had gone there. But I wasn’t sure who was more surprised when he actually answered. “Sometimes.”

Wasn’t that vague?

I had always thought the Trinity were some kind of superior species—smarter, faster, stronger, better than everyone else. I guess I’d expected them to be on another level emotionally and mentally too, like spiritually enlightened people.

But all I had to do was take one look at the man on the floor by me and see that nope, I was wrong. There was a living, breathing man with an attitude like nobody’s business. He had opinions. He was judgmental. He sure as shit had bad moods and a smart mouth.

For all his other talents, he was… I wasn’t sure I was ready to use the word I was thinking of. It was disturbing.

I couldn’t say I was surprised that he felt a certain kind of way about what he did and who he was, though. All it took was for me to remember how people called him the Antichrist, how he’d mentioned people throwing things at him. That fire that had hurt a lot of people before he’d gotten there to help save so many lives, some people even managed to blame him for it. Once I thought about it, I could see him waiting a second or two to save someone if they’d pissed him off.

I could totally see him being petty enough.

Those purple eyes met mine, and we stared at each other for a second.

He’d regretted his answer.

He confirmed it when he closed his eyes and turned his chin away.

I shrugged and settled against the wall, rubbing my arms at the cold. Had they turned down the air? Were they going to try and test to see at what temperature I got hypothermia? Brr.

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