Grim & Bear It: A Grimlock Family Short

by Amanda M. Lee

  “And instead we wasted time looking for you,” I pointed out. “Aisling has been inside longer. We have no idea where she is.”

  “So we should probably find her.”

  “We might have already found her if we weren’t looking for you.”

  Aidan didn’t back down. “Then let’s find her now.”

  “Fine.” I exhaled heavily and glared at my little brother. “You’re a piece of work. You know that, don’t you? Everyone says Aisling is the difficult one, but you’re almost as bad.”

  “Aisling is worse,” Braden argued. “She’s so much worse.”

  “And she’s on her own in this place,” I snapped. “I don’t care how much she annoys you, I know you can’t be happy about that. She’s little, after all. Do you want someone big taking advantage of her?”

  “I … no.” Braden had the grace to be abashed. “She’s a pain in the butt, but she’s our pain in the butt.”

  “She is,” I agreed. “And she’s going to make our lives hell if we don’t find her.” I pictured the look on Dad’s face if he ever found out I lost Aisling at a rave. “That is if Dad doesn’t kill us first.”

  Braden lost a bit of color at the statement. “Right. We should definitely find her.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  I WAS MOSTLY IN CONTROL of my emotions by the time we hit the fifth floor. The calm that had settled over me – I was determined to find Aisling and absorb my soul (and in record time) no matter what, so defeat wasn’t an option – vanished like delinquent chaperones on prom night.

  Unlike the lower floors, the fifth floor was eerily quiet and only lit in certain locations. That allowed for large pockets of empty space and shadows that were unnerving, to say the least. “Huh.”

  “Huh, what?” Braden asked, keeping Jerry and Aidan firmly locked between Cillian and himself. “Do you see something?”

  “Do you see Aisling?” Jerry asked hopefully.

  “I don’t,” I replied, my voice barely a whisper. “I don’t see or hear anything, for that matter.”

  “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Braden challenged.

  “It’s … odd. Didn’t the guys on the fourth floor say that the fifth floor was bad news?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Courtney said this floor was a bad place, too,” I added. “If it’s empty, how can it be a bad place?”

  “I have no idea.” Braden jerked his head to the right when something echoed down the hallway. “I suppose you’re going to insist we take a look down there?”

  It was the last thing I wanted. The thing I wanted most was to find Aisling – even more than discovering my errant soul, which was set to be freed upon the world at any second – so there was no choice in the matter. “Let’s go.”

  “Oh, I don’t like this.” Jerry made a clucking sound with his tongue as Cillian moved to his side and pointed for him to follow Braden and me. “I don’t like this at all. There’s no way Aisling would come down here. It’s filthy … and gross … and filthy.” Jerry kept his hands close to his torso. “I mean … just so filthy.”

  “Aisling isn’t nearly as grossed out by dirt as you are,” Aidan argued. “She’s not afraid to get her hands dirty. She might have come down here.”

  “And why would she have done that?” Jerry asked, his voice turning shrill when some critter – probably a rat – squeaked as it raced along the hallway. “There’s no way she’s down here.”

  I was just about to agree with Jerry when I heard the low murmur of voices. I couldn’t tell much about the speakers – other than they were male – but I wasn’t keen to search further despite the fact that one of the voices might belong to my charge. I was about to prod everyone to run in the other direction when Aidan lurched forward.

  Instinctively, I grabbed the back of his hoodie and dragged him back. “What do you think you’re doing?” I hissed in his ear. “Do you want to die?”

  “That’s Aisling,” Aidan snapped, taking me by surprise.

  Aisling? That couldn’t be right. Aisling has a distinctive voice that carries. It’s like nails on a chalkboard meets participants in a Jerry Springer episode and is overwhelmed by the nonstop sound of eighty people vomiting at the same time.

  “That is not Aisling. That’s … other people.”

  “It’s Aisling. I heard her.”

  “It’s not.”

  Aidan jutted out his lower lip. “I think I know my own sister’s voice. We shared a womb, after all. Do you think she was quiet for that nine months?”

  I bit back a curse at his insistence on using the word “womb” and glared. “I think I’d know if Aisling was on this floor. She’s not known for being quiet. Whatever you’re hearing, it’s not Aisling.”

  As if on cue, a distinctive voice filled the air and caused my heart to skip a beat.

  “Let me go right now! If you don’t, my father will feed you to his pet snakes. He’s got lots of them. They live in the basement.”

  I heard a brief clanging in my ears, as if I was going to pass out, and then forced myself to focus. Crap! Aisling really was on this floor. I risked a glance at Aidan and saw fear reflected in his expression rather than haughty “I told you so” belligerence.

  “Fine. It’s Aisling.” I jerked hard on Aidan’s hoodie and tugged him around the corner, motioning for Braden, Cillian and Jerry to follow. Once I was certain we could talk without being overheard, I let loose a string of curses and considered slamming my forehead into the wall to drown out the internal voice that was screaming “I told you this wouldn’t work out” in my mind. For the record, the voice just so happened to sound a lot like my father.

  “How are we going to get her out of there?” Cillian asked.

  That was a good question. “I don’t know.”

  “We don’t even know how many people are in there,” Braden added. “We might be outnumbered.”

  “I figured that out on my own.”

  “I don’t care if there’s an army of dudes in there with bayonets and machine guns,” Aidan challenged. “I say we go in hot and get our sister back.”

  “That’s … a plan.” I eyed Aidan warily. He had his dander up, which didn’t often happen. He was a quiet kid – at least compared to Aisling and Braden – and he seemed more interested in his inner struggles than anything else. I was fairly certain I knew what those inner struggles revolved around, so I really couldn’t blame him. “We’re not leaving without her. You don’t have to worry about that.”

  “I know we’re not leaving without her,” Aidan said. “The only one who wants to leave without her is Braden. You’re not Braden.”

  “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” I drawled. “I’m not Braden. I should get a T-shirt printed with that saying.”

  Aidan didn’t turn away from my bad attitude. “You won’t leave her. I know that. Why are you getting your panties in a twist?”

  Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. “I’m not. I’m thinking.”

  “We should all think,” Cillian suggested. “We need a good plan for getting inside that room and then yanking Aisling out. We might have to run after that.”

  “We can’t leave her in there for a second longer,” Jerry declared. “Something bad might be happening … like they might be making her touch a rat or something.”

  “Why would they make her touch a rat?” I asked, honestly curious.

  “Because rats are gross.”

  “But … what is the point of making her touch a rat?”

  “To traumatize her.”

  “What good would traumatizing her do if there’s no reason behind the action?”

  Jerry shot me a withering look. “Must I explain everything to you?”

  Apparently not, since it was clear he was at his limit when it came to patience. “Well … .”

  Aisling picked that moment to screech, as if somehow knowing she was proving Jerry right while yelling at whoever was in the room with her. “I’m n
ot joking! My father will eat your livers for dinner. Er, well, actually he won’t. He’s picky about food. He’ll let the dogs eat your livers. We have big dogs and they eat liver to keep them strong.”

  I slapped my hand to my forehead. “Yeah. We need to get her out of there.”

  “Do you have a suggestion for how we do that without knowing what we’re up against?” Braden asked. He was serious, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Despite the fact that Aisling irritated him on a cellular level, he looked most ready to rush through the door to save her. “We have to move … like right now!”

  “I know we have to move.” I wasn’t a freaking idiot. I knew that moving was necessary. That didn’t change the fact that I had no idea how to get everyone out of this situation without anyone getting hurt. “Look around,” I said finally. “See if you can find any weapons.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Jerry enthused, moving down the hallway and scanning the floor as he walked. “Hah! I found something.”

  I narrowed my eyes when I recognized what Jerry held up. “That’s a shoe.”

  “No, it’s a weapon.” Jerry shook his head and grabbed the heel of the shoe, twisting until he popped the sharp heel off the frame and held it up. “I can gut a man with this.”

  “I’ll take your word for it,” I said dryly. “Anyone else?”

  “Nothing.” Cillian moved back to my side. “I like the idea of having weapons, but I’m guessing if these dolts on the fifth floor are as bad as everyone says they sweep regularly for knives and guns. No one is going to leave stuff like that around for anyone to find.”

  He had a point, but still … . “Fine.” I heaved out a sigh. “We’ll go in without weapons.”

  “Good.” Braden rolled up his sleeves. “Are you ready to do this?”

  I was nowhere near ready to do this. I was more terrified of my father’s wrath than whatever waited on the other side of that door. Worse than that, though, was the idea of something bad happening to Aisling. Sure, she was a rampant pain in the behind and there were times I’d wished Mom and Dad had stopped adding kids to the family long before she showed up, but I still loved her.

  Wow. That was a real kick in the pants.

  “Let’s do this.” I strode toward the door, purposeful. We didn’t know if we would be facing guns or knives – or maybe even something worse – but we were prepared. We were prepared for anything.

  I threw open the door, my eyes on fire, and took two long strides inside. “Unhand my sister!”

  I was going for frightening. I would’ve settled for bossy. Instead I got five women, all dressed in skimpy outfits and with amused looks on their faces. In the center of the small circle stood Aisling, hands on hips and frown on lips. She didn’t look happy.

  “Where have you been?” Aisling swiveled in my direction, fury positively rolling off her in waves. “I’ve been looking for you!”

  I wanted to throttle her for the attitude. Okay, I wanted to hug her and then throttle her. Throttling was definitely in the mix, though. “You don’t want to know where we’ve been.”

  “I want to know where you’ve been.” The nearest woman, a blonde with an outfit so skimpy her breasts poked out of what could laughingly be called a top and her bottom on full display thanks to a slip of fabric so tiny it couldn’t possibly be considered a skirt, fixed me with a come-hither look. “You look like our little friend here … only way hotter.”

  “Hey!” Aisling had the audacity to be offended. “I’m so much cuter than him.”

  “You’re definitely louder than him,” the woman said. “As for cuter … I’m going to say no.”

  “Whatever.” Aisling rolled her eyes to the ceiling and folded her arms over her chest. “I’m ready to go home. I want ice cream and to take a bath. This place is filthy.”

  Jerry shot me a triumphant look. “I told you.”

  “Yes, you told me this place was filthy,” I acquiesced. “You also told me there was no way Aisling could possibly be on this floor.” I gestured toward my pouty sister. “Obviously you were wrong.”

  “Not really,” Aisling countered, skating away from her new friends and moving to my side. Up close, she looked tired. That caused me to think she was more worried than she let on. My sister was nothing if not a master bluffer. “I didn’t want to be on this floor, but they made me stay.”

  Alarm bells dinged in the back of my head as I regarded her. “Who made you stay? Them?” I pointed at the women, dubious. They looked a bit rough around the edges, and I had a feeling they were paid to do certain things professionally, (although the only time I’d ever seen a real “working girl,” as my mother called them, was on the streets of downtown Detroit after dark one evening) but Aisling was tough enough to take all five of the women watching her. “Why would they make you stay?”

  “Because our boss insisted on it,” the blonde replied without hesitation. “He said that we needed to keep an eye on the little one until the big one showed up.” She licked her lips and smiled. “I’m guessing you’re the big one.”

  Uh-oh. I didn’t like the sound of that one bit. “I’m not big. I’m … tiny.”

  Braden snorted. “Oh, I’ll never let you forget that you said that.”

  I ignored him and kept my eyes on the blonde. “All I want is my sister and to get out of here. She’s fourteen, for crying out loud. She shouldn’t even be in this place.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” a voice said from behind me, causing me to swivel quickly and focus on the man standing in the open doorway.

  He wasn’t overly large – the two guys serving as bodyguards on either side handled the size factor – but he did look angry. He also looked a little green around the gills and as if he was sweating profusely. There were large pit stains on his shirt and beads of sweat running down his cheeks.

  “Who are you?” I asked, confused.

  “Who are you?” he shot back.

  “That’s Peter Langstrom,” Aisling volunteered, moving closer to my side and narrowing her eyes into a hostile glare. “He shoved me in here with these gross morons.”

  “Hey!” The blonde wagged a finger in Aisling’s face. “There’s no need to be rude.”

  Oh, geez! My sister spent the last thirty minutes locked up with ladies of the night and my charge, who should be dead by now, stood in the doorway. He looked as if he might go down any minute.

  Other than the prostitutes thing, my night was really starting to look up.

  8

  Eight

  Peter Langstrom was clearly dying. Of what, I had no idea. That information wasn’t related to me in my brief conversation with the home office, and I didn’t think to ask. It hardly mattered now … although a few tidbits might have been useful before hitting the rave.

  No matter. I merely had to push forward from here. It wasn’t as if I had a choice.

  “I want to thank you for taking care of my sister,” I announced, forcing a smile that I knew didn’t make it all the way to my eyes. That was on purpose, after all. I didn’t want to offend Langstrom, but I also didn’t want him thinking I was a pushover. “We were panicking when we couldn’t find her. It’s good to know that you tucked her away in a safe room where she wouldn’t be hurt.”

  Langstrom mopped his brow with his shirt sleeve and regarded me with overt dislike. “Uh-huh.”

  “He didn’t put me in a room to keep me safe,” Aisling argued, her voice shrill. “He put me in here so his girlfriends could watch over me. He told them to beat me up if I tried to run.”

  “I did that for your own good, little one,” Langstrom countered, something demented flitting through his eyes as he focused on my sister. “You’re far too pretty to be running around this place without supervision. I didn’t want to see anyone take advantage of you, which is why I put you in here.”

  Aisling is smart. Actually, she’s beyond smart. Some might call her shrewd. The only thing greater than her brain capacity is her need to get the last word. She’s
willing to let every ounce of brain power seep out of her head if it means she can be declared victorious in a disagreement.

  I was hopeful she wouldn’t let that happen today.

  That was wishful thinking.

  “You didn’t shove me in here to protect me,” Aisling fired back, her eyes on fire. “You said you were going to have your girlfriends – and I’m not two, by the way, I know these aren’t your girlfriends – show me how to make money at parties.

  “Now, I might not be used to places like this, but I’ve watched a lot of television,” she continued. “You weren’t trying to help me. You were going to try to make me one of these girls.”

  “And what’s wrong with that?” one of the brunettes asked, annoyance practically dripping from her tongue as she focused on Aisling. “You’d be lucky to land with us. Peter is a great boss.”

  Boss? Hmm. I still didn’t know what Langstrom did for a living, but I was starting to suspect he was a pimp. That probably wasn’t a good thing … at all. It would’ve been much better if he was some random drug dealer who abused his own wares.

  “I think Aisling is probably better off with us,” I said, resting my hand on my sister’s shoulder and giving her a little tug. Absolute safety wasn’t a given unless I could get her out of the warehouse, which wasn’t going to happen at the snap of my fingers. Until then, though, I knew the safest place for her was amongst her brothers … and Jerry. Even though he was fussy, Jerry would throw himself on a sword for my sister. That was only one of the reasons I liked him. The other was that he didn’t put up with her crap. When she did something stupid, he called her on it.

  “I think so, too,” Aisling agreed, taking me by surprise with her solemn expression. She was finally reading the situation and she clearly didn’t like what she saw. “I’m tired and ready to go home with my brother.”

  Langstrom cocked his head to the side, his lips puckering. “Oh, little one, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Your brother lost you in the first place. I don’t think he’s worthy of a second chance.”