11. Erik

Chapter eleven

Erik

O h great, our resident sociopath was choosing right now to voice an opinion. Just when Grace was starting to relax a little bit. I glared at Anders as she glanced toward the door, her eyes wide like she was contemplating bolting.

"We don't keep people, Anders," I warned him, pitching my voice low. He stood up, looming over the table, and I stood too, matching his glare. Jesse looked between us, exasperated, and I signed for him to stay out of it. Levy was in my periphery, and I was about eighty percent sure he'd pick my side if it came down to it.

Anders scowled, the vein in his forehead throbbing, and I smirked as he dropped his gaze, feeling triumphant.

"Jesse asked if you'd be safe if you went home," Levy announced, breaking the tense silence. Grace was staring at her lap again, a pinched look on her face. That told me all I needed to know about that. There was more to this story than an overprotective brother it seemed, and I wasn't liking what I was piecing together.

"Of course not, her brother fucking drugged her and used her as a reward," Anders snapped, walking around the table toward her. He jerked his hand up next to her and she flinched away, a clear learned response everyone here could recognize. My temper flared, and I climbed on top of the table, stepping over the centerpiece that Margot kept putting there—to pretty up the place, she'd insisted. Grace stared at me with wide eyes as I hopped down beside her chair, now nose-to-nose with Anders. Well, nose-to-chin really, the asshole was a lot taller than me. But I had twice the muscle, and he was shit at physical fights, so I wasn't worried.

"Relax, I was proving a point. She's twitchier than a rabbit, clearly someone or multiple someone's have been knocking her around," Anders told me sharply, backing away with his hands raised in surrender.

"Is that true?" I asked Grace, watching Anders out of the corner of my eye. Jesse had rounded the table to stand beside Levy, his hand on his shoulder. Levy didn't like conflict, I knew that, but Anders had fucking started it this time.

"It's nothing you need to worry about," she muttered, and I signed her answer to Jesse, adding that she was clearly lying. Anders scoffed.

"No shit," he muttered, leaning against the wall. Satisfied that he would stay put for now, I stepped back and took a seat on the edge of the table in front of Grace, who looked more than a little uncomfortable with us surrounding her.

"Who?" I asked gently. "Just Sergio? Or are there others?"

"My father… Douglas… Bill, when they weren't looking." She pursed her lips, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

"Well, Sergio's dead, and so is your dad. That just leaves Douglas and Bill, whoever the fuck that is," Anders mused, and I shot him a look that said to shut his fucking mouth. He winced, glaring at Jesse as he rubbed his temple. Jesse was watching him closely, his eyes full of deadly warning.

"Well, what if I told you that you could stay here for a bit? I promise that no one here will hurt you," I offered, signing so Jesse could follow along. He smiled and knelt beside her chair, nodding and signing at her, glancing at me for help.

"Jesse says he could teach you how to sign if you want." I smirked. Sure, he'd ‘taught' a lot of people to sign, the smarmy prick.

"What's in it for you?" she asked, glaring up at me, and I was genuinely taken aback. "Oh come on, none of you are exactly Mother Teresa incarnate. So what's in it for you?" I felt the burst of comfort and the push to tell her the truth. She was getting ballsy, I liked that.

"Maybe that trick of yours will come in handy," I replied honestly. "But, most of all, it'll piss Douglas the fuck off, and that makes me very happy."

She studied me for a minute, searching my face for a hint of an ulterior motive. "Alright," she finally sighed, and I saw Levy give a small smile from behind her chair.

As usual, things worked out just as I'd hoped. Or close enough, at least. Sure, she wasn't a super weapon, but she was a pretty little thing, and I could feel good about myself for getting her out of that shitty house of hers.

Anders was glowering at me, but I'd gotten him what he wanted, so he could fuck off with that temper of his. I hopped down from the table, and she flinched back in her chair. Yikes, we'd have to work on that. I held out my hand for her to shake. She stared at it for a moment, like it might bite her, before she brought hers up. Grace was so tiny, I completely engulfed her as we shook on it, and my skin tingled where it touched hers. I liked that more than I cared to admit. I shot her my most charming smile, holding onto her a little too long before I finally let it go. Grace quickly clasped her hands back in her lap, still looking nervous and out of place.

"Clothes!" I suddenly remembered, and her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You need something that'll fit." I glanced around the room. All of us were easily twice her size, if not bigger.

Jesse sent me a picture of her in one of his oversized tee shirts, her legs tantalizingly bare. I shot him a dirty look, and he just grinned at me. "Don't freak her out," I signed at him quickly, and he held up his hands in mock innocence.

"Maybe a longer shirt, at least?" Grace suggested as if she'd understood our pervy conversation. "These pants aren't going to work, but I'm used to wearing dresses anyway." She shrugged, looking down at her lap.

"Good thinking. Jess, take her to raid your closet," I signed to him, speaking out loud for Grace's benefit. Jesse smirked and offered her a hand, which I was surprised to see her take, her other clutching the pants to prevent them from sliding down. Not that any of us would've complained if they did, but she might not be comfortable with that. Not yet, anyway.

I waited until they were well out of the room before I rounded on Anders. "Seriously? What happened to the concept of not voicing every goddamn thought out loud?" I snapped. "I know you're trying to win some sort of ‘serial killer of the year' award, but come the fuck on! She's clearly traumatized and doesn't fucking need you acting all Norman Bates in the corner." I swore we needed to socialize him more. We'd grown used to his less-than-personable attitude, but I needed him to not send Grace running back into Douglas's arms.

"I'm not a serial killer," was his huffy response, and I threw my hands up in exasperation. "She's stronger than she knows, but no one has given her the opportunity to show it. I'm not going to coddle her, you idiots can do that."

"Right, because bringing her toast isn't coddling," I muttered, and he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the wall.

"So tell me, boss, now that you have your little pet, what's your next move?" he demanded, and I bristled at his cocky tone. I rubbed the back of my neck and smirked.

"You'll just have to wait and see, now, won't you?" Honestly, I had no fucking clue, but I would figure something out soon enough.