Grim Tempest Page 4

  Was I? That’s not how it felt. “I don’t think that’s what I was saying,” I cautioned. “I just meant that the second storm was weird and I saw a fight during it. You obviously saw something, because you’ve been going out of your way to not talk about what happened during the second bout.”

  Griffin swallowed hard. “You noticed that, eh?”

  I nodded. “You’re not good at hiding your emotions, at least from me. It took me some time to figure you out – I’m sure you remember the meltdown I had when I thought you were having sex with your sister – but I think I know you relatively well now.”

  “I would really appreciate if you didn’t phrase it that way, the part where you thought I was dating Maya,” Griffin said, pressing a quick kiss to the tip of my nose. “As for knowing me, you’re right. I feel as if you know me better than anyone.”

  That made me feel proud for some reason. “I think you know me, too.”

  “Oh, we’re turning into the schmaltz twins, huh?” We shared another soft kiss before Griffin sobered. “Something else did happen during the storm. You’re right about that. It happened to one of my co-workers.”

  “What?”

  “He punched his wife in front of the station.”

  I was dumbfounded, uncertain what to say. “He punched her?”

  Griffin nodded. “Right in the face. All of us were standing in the lobby watching the storm, not sure what to make of it, when we noticed Peter outside with his wife. They’ve been married for only a few months so we’ve made a little game out of betting how long they’ll make out for before saying goodbye.”

  “And he punched her instead?”

  Griffin held his hands palms out and shrugged. “I don’t know, baby. They were talking and acting normal. There was a lot of touching and a few kisses. We were, of course, being jerks inside while commenting on it. Then the rain started.

  “I swear we didn’t have any hint that it was coming,” he continued. “It started and Peter initially put his arm over Lani’s head to cover her from the rain. Everyone was talking about how sweet it was before things turned sour.”

  “Sour how?”

  “They started arguing. They were heading toward the door when they stopped to fight. It was clear that they were arguing, although none of us could make out why. Lani was actually the first one to make contact. She smacked him across the face, which was surprising because she’s pretty docile. He laid her out in response.”

  I had no idea what to make of the story. “What did you do?”

  “We ran outside and grabbed him. I was one of the first there. I dragged him through the front door while everyone else helped Lani. They basically picked her up and moved her inside even though it would’ve been smarter to wait for an ambulance. It was raining something fierce, though, and they weren’t far from the door, so we were only outside for a few seconds.”

  “What did Peter say when you got him inside?” I was genuinely curious.

  “He fought hard at first, as if I were some enemy he needed to beat,” Griffin replied. “One of the guys came out from behind the desk to help me subdue him. We wrestled him down and another guy cuffed him.

  “While we were waiting for emergency personnel to show up, I tried to talk to him. He was spitting mad at first,” he continued. “After a few minutes he seemed to come back to reality. He was completely freaked out when he realized what was going on. He fought us that time for a different reason.”

  “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

  “He wanted to know what happened to Lani and why she was unconscious.”

  “He didn’t remember?”

  “That’s what he said.”

  “Did you believe him?”

  “I … .” Griffin broke off as he searched his busy brain. “I kind of think I believed him. He seemed so upset, so distraught, that there was no consoling him. Of course, I didn’t want to console him after what he’d done.

  “Lani regained consciousness in the lobby when the emergency responders arrived,” he continued. “She asked questions and remembered everything that happened. She was upset, but she was almost more upset by what Peter was going through.”

  I rubbed my cheek, uncertain how to respond. “I’m not generally the one to take the side of abusive jackholes, but it sounds to me as if he entered some sort of fugue state.”

  “I know it’s crazy, but that was my initial thought. It was almost as if we were dealing with two different men. One of them was a monster and the other was the nice guy we’ve all come to know. If he was putting on an act about not remembering it was a heck of a show.”

  “So how did things work out?”

  “Lani went to the hospital and Peter was transported there for observation,” Griffin answered. “No decision on charges yet. Lani isn’t being cooperative. She’s convinced he has a brain tumor or something.”

  Now that was an idea. “Jerry and I watched a Lifetime movie once that was like that. The guy was the perfect husband and father until one day he turned into Michael Myers. Come to find out he had a brain tumor. He could’ve survived with the tumor but would always remain a jerk or risk death and have it removed.”

  “It was a Lifetime movie, so let me guess how he chose,” Griffin said dryly.

  “It was a lovely funeral.”

  Griffin snickered as he slipped his arm around my waist and tugged me closer, positioning me so I was essentially on his lap. “That sounds like the worst movie ever.”

  “It was terrible,” I agreed. “Those Facts of Life chicks need to work, though. I don’t begrudge them a paycheck. Besides, the movie was funnier than any sitcom I’ve seen in years. Jerry and I had a good time watching it.”

  “Good to know.” Griffin rested his brow against mine. “In all seriousness, I think it’s possible that Peter is suffering from some form of mental problem … or maybe a physical one that hasn’t been diagnosed. If the doctors don’t find anything, he’s looking at losing his job and going to jail.”

  “Even if his wife doesn’t want to press charges?”

  “He did it in front of all of us. We can hardly look the other way.”

  “Yeah. I guess not.” I rubbed the back of his neck as I considered the conundrum. “What would you do in the same situation?”

  Griffin was caught off guard by the question. “What do you mean?”

  “Would you live with the tumor or risk dying to have it removed?”

  “Oh, that.” He smirked. “I thought you were asking if I’ve ever considered belting you.”

  “I happen to know that everyone who has ever met me has considered that.”

  “I haven’t.”

  “You lie.”

  “I haven’t.” Griffin was firm. “There are times I’ve felt the need to take a step back from you so I don’t yell – and there are other times I’ve given in to the yelling, although I’ve almost always regretted it after the fact – but I’ve never once considered smacking you around. That’s not how I was raised.”

  “My brothers have smacked me around and lived to tell.”

  “That’s different,” Griffin said. “I would argue the normal hair pulling and slapping you guys engaged in as kids and teenagers isn’t the same thing. If one of your brothers punched you, I can guarantee that your father would’ve handled that situation with his own fists.”

  I tilted my head to the side, considering. “I guess. Still, I’m not easy to live with.”

  “You’re not as bad as you make out, which I think is a product of you wanting to be a badass in front of your brothers,” Griffin countered. “You’re not all that hard to live with.”

  “So you don’t want to knock me around?”

  Griffin shook his head. “I might want to wrestle with you a little bit, but I never want to hurt you. I can take a lot in this world – my own pain included – but I can’t take hurting you. That’s too much for me.”

  I knew that to be true. I saw his reaction after I was forced to
visit the hospital a few days during the Christmas holiday. “So you would choose the operation.”

  “Over hurting you? Absolutely.”

  “So you’re hoping there’s something physically wrong with Peter,” I mused. “You would rather him be sick, even so sick he might die, rather than acknowledge he might simply be an abusive jerk.”

  “I’ve never seen him act that way. I have to hope something else is going on. Sometimes … sometimes there are worse things than death. Hurting someone you love is one of those things.”

  I couldn’t help but agree with him. After a few minutes of quiet I shook my head to dislodge the melancholy. “Wow. That got deep.”

  “Way too deep,” Griffin agreed, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Our food should be in here ten minutes. Do you want to make out with me on the couch like teenagers until it gets here?”

  “Now that is something I totally want to do.”

  “Somehow I knew you’d say that.”

  4

  Four

  Although he tried to hide it, I knew Griffin remained upset about his co-worker when we woke the next morning. He wasn’t his normal chatty self, and once I was dressed and ready to leave for breakfast next door, he waved me off and said he would join me in a few minutes, making a lame excuse about having to find a different shirt before leaving.

  “I’ll be right behind you.”

  I stared at him for a beat, conflicted. Finally I decided hiding the issue wouldn’t be good for either of us. “If you want to call and check on Peter you don’t need to make up an excuse. I get it.”

  Griffin’s grin was sheepish. “You read me well, don’t you? Sometimes I think it might be too well.”

  “You just don’t like it that I’m so magnificent I can read your mind. That makes me all-powerful and all-knowing, which is enough to cause every man in my orbit to want to crawl in a hole and never escape because he’s uncomfortable with my mind-reading abilities.”

  Griffin snorted, amused. “You’re humble, too.”

  “I’m definitely that.” I shrugged into a hoodie and turned serious. “It’s okay to want to check on him. I kind of want to know what’s going on, too. It’s freaky. You don’t have to hide it.”

  “I know.” Griffin let loose a sigh. “I just didn’t want to ruin your morning with something mildly depressing.”

  “I think Jerry is making pancakes today. Those will uplift my mood.” I took a step toward him and wrapped my hand around his wrist. “It’s probably better if we just tell each other what’s going on. That was your original suggestion, and it’s worked so far … at least for the most part.”

  Griffin pursed his lips. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have hidden it. I don’t know why I did.”

  I knew why, but I didn’t think now was the time to drop my unique brand of super intelligence on him. “It’s okay. I’ll hold Aidan and Jerry off from eating your portion of the pancakes for as long as I can.”

  Griffin planted a quick kiss on my lips. “I won’t be long. I just want a general update.”

  “It’s okay. Take all the time you need.”

  I left through the front door and hopped over the small island that separated my front walk from the townhouse where I used to reside. Originally I thought moving – even though I’d only shifted my personal belongings fifty feet or so – would be difficult. Griffin and I spent every night together, but I worried we would agitate one another and spend most of our time bickering.

  In truth, we’d had only one or two arguments since moving in together, and both of those battles revolved around my job and my penchant for finding trouble. Griffin was ridiculously easygoing – something I wasn’t used to because I grew up in a dramatic household – and he really only put his foot down when he thought I was walking into danger.

  I accidentally tripped over the small fence Jerry set up as a decorative accent, snagging my toe on the metal and slamming it into the concrete, where it bent in a manner I knew would drive Jerry absolutely nuts. I cringed as I caught myself and bent over, lifting the small piece of fencing so I could attempt to force it back into its original shape. I tried three times before shoving it in the ground. I would simply tell him a kid with an aversion to decorative fences did it if he asked. Otherwise I’d lie and deny.

  What? That’s my way when it comes to stuff like this. Why own up to something that’s going to cause strife? No one wants that.

  I rapped my knuckles against the door once before pushing it open and entering. I could hear Jerry rattling around in the kitchen as I kicked off my shoes and headed into the living room. That’s where I found Aidan, a grim look on his face as he watched the morning news. He wasn’t exactly what I would call a morning person, although he was often cheerier than me, but his morose expression told me that he wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversationalist this morning.

  “What’s up with you?” It wasn’t a standard greeting, but I was hardly a standard sister so I figured it was fine. I launched myself onto the couch and rested my feet on the coffee table as I got comfortable next to him. “What are you doing?”

  Aidan remained focused on the television and didn’t as much as glance in my direction. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

  My brother’s tone told me now wasn’t the time to be sarcastic. I’m a Grimlock, so that’s exactly how I opted to approach the problem despite his obvious signs of distress. “I think you look like you’re trying to broker world peace.”

  Aidan scowled. “Do you think that’s funny?”

  “Most of the time I think I’m downright hilarious. You apparently don’t think I’m funny, though.”

  “No, I don’t think you’re funny at all,” Aidan agreed. “In fact … why don’t you try out your comedy routine on Jerry? I think he could use some company in the kitchen.”

  “Fine.” I raised an eyebrow as I rolled to my feet. If I didn’t know better, I’d think my brother was suffering from a raging case of PMS. I headed toward the kitchen, slowing long enough to note the blanket and pillow that were folded and shoved under one of the living room side tables, conveniently located in a place most people wouldn’t search.

  Hmm. That was interesting. The blanket and pillow would indicate someone had slept on the couch the previous night. I always thought Griffin and I would have relationship growing pains as things moved forward. I never thought it would be Jerry and Aidan.

  I plastered a bright smile on my face as I sauntered into the kitchen, determined to get some answers. I knew that I’d have to put up with allowing Jerry to vent long and loud to get those answers, but I was philanthropic enough to take one for the team if it meant hearing some fun gossip.

  “Hey, Jerry. How are you this fine and overcast morning?”

  Jerry tossed me a weary glance. “I’m fine, Bug. How are you?”

  There was absolutely no life to his answer, which threw me for a loop. “I’m delightful. Griffin and I ordered Middle Eastern food and he gave me a foot massage. Then we took a bath together and watched television in bed while listening to that third storm that came out of nowhere. It was pretty much a perfect evening.”

  Jerry looked dubious. “You know, two years ago we considered a perfect evening a loud and drunken night at the bar. Now we’re homebodies who only care about how comfortable our pajamas are. It’s a little distressing.”

  “I haven’t given it much thought,” I admitted, surprised by his downer attitude. Usually when Jerry and Aidan fought my best friend couldn’t wait to launch into the tale and get me on his side so we could double-team Aidan into submission. “Um … is something going on?”

  Jerry turned swiftly and focused on whisking batter. “Why would something be up?”

  “I don’t know. I just thought I might’ve sensed a vibe here this morning.”

  “Well, everything is fine. I mean … it’s perfect. We had a lovely evening and morning. Up? Nothing is up. That’s absolutely absurd.”

  Jerry always was a terri
ble liar. When we were kids I had to lie to him so he would think he was telling my parents the truth before we left to do something outlandish. He was far too transparent otherwise.

  “Jerry.” I gentled my voice, unsure how to proceed. “If something is wrong, you know you can tell me, right?”

  Jerry slammed the metal bowl on the counter, the sound echoing throughout the room and causing me to jolt. “Nothing is wrong.”

  “Okay.” I held my hands up in a placating manner and took a step back. “I’ll just get out of your way.”

  “Nothing is wrong,” Jerry repeated.

  “I get it. Nothing is wrong.” I flicked my eyes to the front door when it opened, relieved to find Griffin walking through. I was fairly certain I’d entered a bad episode of The Twilight Zone and was happy to have reinforcements. “There you are. I was getting worried.”

  Griffin offered up a peculiar look. “You were getting worried about what?”

  “You.” I was a better liar than everyone in the room, but even I couldn’t pull off that simple answer.

  “What’s going on?” Griffin asked, sensing trouble as he glanced between the kitchen and living room. Aidan didn’t as much as look in our direction. “Am I missing something?”

  That was an interesting question. We were both very clearly missing something, though what was anyone’s guess.

  “Things seem a little tense in here,” I whispered, lowering my voice. “I think Aidan and Jerry aren’t talking.”

  “Really?” Griffin was intrigued rather than worried, which meant he didn’t grasp the magnitude of what I’d said. “What do you think they’re fighting about? Do you think they played Risk last night without us or something?”

  Jerry and Aidan (and, okay, me) were terrible losers, so we had something of a moratorium going on when it came to board games. Every once in a while alcohol fueled us and we forgot that moratorium. If Jerry and Aidan were fighting over a board game that went flying, that would make me feel markedly better because it was something they would only pout over for a few hours.

  “Hmm. I hadn’t even considered that.” I turned my eyes to Aidan. “Did you guys play a game last night?”