10. Grace

Chapter ten

Grace

W ren and Sparrow both took some convincing before they let me leave with Erik. Sparrow was especially reluctant, even as Wren gathered up some low-dose painkillers and a couple of extra bandages for my arm. She also slipped a burner phone into my pocket, explaining that it had their numbers programmed in if I ever needed them. I hugged Wren tightly, murmuring a thanks that didn’t convey the level of gratitude I felt toward them. I would be indebted to these two mysterious women forever, and I hated that there was nothing I could do to pay them back for helping me.

Jesse tucked me under his arm as we walked down to the car, moving slowly to accommodate my weak limbs. The reunion had sapped all of the energy out of my frail body, and Jesse held me steady as I struggled to climb into the car, sliding into the middle of the backseat with Levy on the other side. I started to shake as they closed the door, pressing into me on both sides, and I clasped my hands tightly in my lap as we started driving.

“We’ve increased security around the property,” Erik announced, turning to look at me from the front seat. “I don’t want you to worry, it’s just a precaution. Some of our crew will be walking around the yard and patrolling inside the gate, and we have shifts posted on the street around us as well. Nobody will ever come into the house unless specifically invited, and you will always know about it beforehand.” I nodded slowly, toying with the cuff of my borrowed hoodie.

“Margot is excited to see you,” Levy murmured, and I wanted to smile, but my stomach twisted.

“Does she… know?” I asked in a small voice, and the car descended into an uncomfortable silence.

“We… when we thought…” Levy mumbled.

“She thought you were dead too,” Anders announced, his voice rough. I met his eyes through the rear-view mirror briefly before he looked away once more. Well, that wasn’t far from the truth, I guess.

Erik hadn’t been lying. We pulled up to the gate, and I saw three security guards stationed on the outside, and four more patrolling just inside the gate. Anders drove directly into the garage and closed the door behind us, sealing us inside. My breath hitched in my throat, and I was relieved when Jesse opened the door and helped me climb out of the vehicle. I followed them into the house, and my plan was to head downstairs to my room and get some rest. Erik practically threw himself in front of the basement door, his eyes blazing as he blocked my way.

“Upstairs,” he told me sharply. “I got my room ready for you. I’ll sleep in Jesse’s,” he explained, ushering me toward the kitchen before I could argue. The moment we stepped into the kitchen a pot clattered, making me flinch.

“Oh, look at you!” Margot cried, and I was gathered into a tight hug. Margot was soft and warm, and she smelled like fresh bread. Tears pricked my eyes, and when she finally let go, I swayed on my feet as she steadied me with her hands on my shoulders. “You need tea,” she announced thickly and glared at someone behind me. “Make yourself useful, Anders. Even with one arm, you still know where the mugs are.” I thought maybe she’d let me go, but instead, I was tugged over to the island counter and plunked down onto one of the stools.

“You’re just in time, I need an extra set of hands. I was told we needed to have soup for dinner, and that leaves me no time to make rolls.” She glared at Anders, who was busy gathering mugs out of the cupboard. I’d barely noticed the sling back at Sparrow’s place, but now, as I watched him struggling to get mugs with his one arm strapped to his chest, I wondered what had happened. “I need you to knead this while I chop. Can you do that, darling?” Margot smiled at me as she dumped a large bowl of sticky dough onto the counter in front of me. Nodding, I slipped off the stool and quickly washed my hands, then I pulled off the hoodie so the sleeves wouldn’t get into the food.

I heard a sharp intake of breath, but when I turned, Margot was at the stove, fussing over one of the burners. I looked down at myself, feeling self-conscious about the amount of bruises covering my body. I was mostly purple-green at this point, a motley collage of horrible colors. Sitting back down, I set my hoodie on my lap and began folding the dough, ignoring the heated looks from the men still clustered around me in the kitchen.

“Don’t you all have something better to be doing than standing around, catching flies?” Margot snapped, and they all jumped as if bitten and quickly backed out of the kitchen.

“You keep kneading until it’s nice and smooth,” she instructed, setting a cup of tea by my little station and leaving me to it. My upper body strength was limited, to say the least, but I took it slow, kneading and folding the dough over and over until it was soft and lustrous. Margot came and scooped it up, setting it in a bowl to rise, and slid a bowl of potatoes down in its place. She handed me a peeler and smiled. “You up for some more prep while we wait for the dough?” she asked. It was a shameless ploy to keep me busy, and I was exceptionally grateful for it.

“No problem,” I murmured, even though my eyelids were beginning to feel impossibly heavy. I started removing carefully the skins from each potato, one at a time, the peeled ones disappearing from my board as soon as I set them down.

“I’ve never known those boys to fuss over the same thing. Not once in all their years,” Margot mused, her back to me as she measured out some pepper using her palm, tossing it into the pot simmering on the stove.

“How long have you known them?” I asked softly, and she turned, wiping her hands on her apron as she considered.

“Well, I started working for the Kings when Erik would have been… five? Impish little monster, an absolute nightmare.” She smiled fondly, shaking her head. “Then young Jesse moved in with us, oh, maybe two years later? Such a sweet child and just a fish out of water—it was a miracle if we could keep him out of the ocean for a full day.” She sighed. “ The day of Mrs. King’s funeral, I had to wade into the water nearly up to my neck and drag that boy out. Poor thing was heartbroken. I think he had it in his head that now that she was gone, he’d be given the boot and told to live somewhere else.”

I set another potato down on the board as Margot chuckled sadly, shaking her head. “As if we would have let him leave. That boy was family, whether Mr. King wanted to admit it or not.” Margot gestured for me to drink my tea as I smiled shakily, feeling the love she had for the guys warming the kitchen around us. It made my heart ache as I lifted my mug to my lips, inhaling the scent of chamomile and spearmint and letting it warm my palms.

“Anders, now he started following them home sometime around the eighth grade, I believe. That boy has been serious and solemn his entire life. I could’ve sworn he was a bitter old man disguised as a gangly teenager.” Margot laughed, and I smiled into my tea, trying to imagine Anders as a child and failing miserably. I picked up another potato and peeled a strip of skin off, watching Margot quietly.

“What about Levy?” I asked softly, and her smile faltered, a shadow crossing her face.

“Leviathan came to us when the boys were sixteen, I believe,” she murmured, turning away brusquely to stir the pot on the stove.

“Fifteen, actually,” Levy interjected, and I yelped, dropping the half-peeled potato. It rolled across the tile floor, coming to a stop by the doorway. Levy flickered into view, kneeling to pick it up. “I turned sixteen that year, or that’s what we decided, anyway. You made me a chocolate cake with raspberries on it. ”

Margot muttered something about raspberries being in season at that time, keeping her back to us as she worked at the stove.

“Margot doesn’t like to talk about how I got here. It makes her too emotional.” Levy smiled gently, handing me back the potato and leaning against the island next to my stool.

“Margot doesn’t like nosey eavesdropping boys,” Margot replied tartly, and when she turned around, I realized that her eyes were indeed red and her nose was flushed pink. “And don’t you dare make fun of me for having emotions. Anyone with any heart at all would be emotional about things like that.” She waved a spoon at him menacingly. “I acknowledge my feelings, and I let them out. It’s healing, like fresh air on a wound. Not that you boys would know anything about it! You all bottle up your feelings until this house might burst around us from all the pressure.” She huffed and shook her head, turning back to the soup.

Levy was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and he faded in and out of view as I watched, the doorway visible through his torso. “How did you end up with Erik?” I asked, daring a glance at his face. I expected him to disappear completely, sneak away as he normally did when anything close to this subject came up.

“Through a stroke of luck.” He smiled thinly. “Thanks to King Sr.”