I’ve Got You

CHAPTER 12

Water cascaded over Eris’s naked body as she sat , arms crossed over her chest on a small plastic stool as Grimm held the shower head over her shoulders. He kept his gaze pointedly at the wall. He had worked in aged care before he had moved to Australia from Memphis, joined the army and decided to study to become a Doctor within military ranks. He was only young then. But he’d had to assist many elderly patients with their daily hygienic needs. Bathing others was something he was used to. But bathing Eris was something different entirely. Even bruised and broken as she was, he found his breath hitching in his throat with every glimpse of her bare, tattooed thighs. And with every glance at her naked hips, his face flushed with colour.

‘Like... A friend thing?’ her words rang in his head, serving as a constant reminder to respect the friendship they had found in one another. And that whether he fancied her or not, it wasn’t worth ruining one of the few friendships he had left over it. So stare at the far wall he did, only looking at her to soap up the parts of her back that she was too unsteady to reach herself, And to drape a towel over her when she told him she was finished.

“Talk to me” she ordered gruffly as she struggled to dry and dress herself behind him while he waited patiently facing the door.

“About what?” He could almost hear the shrug in her tone of voice when she replied

“Anything. You’ve barely said a word this whole time. Are you mad at me for something?” He whirled around to face her, the notion of her question catching him off guard, the sight of her naked form before him catching him even more off guard as he panicked, slamming his eyes shut and turning back towards the door. “Why would I be mad at you, Eris?”

“I don’t know... But usually when James was mad at me for something he didn’t speak to me”. Grimm clenched his fists at his sides, slightly annoyed. “I’m not your husband, Eris”

“Don’t call him that”. She snapped. Grimm raised an eyebrow at the door. “You’re finally finished with him then?”

“As finished as I’m ever going to get. He could have killed me.”

“Can we talk about something else?” Grimm groaned, unable to stop the images of a half dead Eris limp in his arms. Eris was quiet for a moment, though Grimm heard her grunting with effort for a few seconds before he felt her hand on her elbow. He turned to face her, wearing a dull green t shirt that was three sizes too big and hung to her knees, he was both thankful and a little disappointed that it covered so much of her. She looked up at him with eyes like jewels, wet with tears. “You cry a lot” he whispered, grasping her hand and fighting to quell his frustration. “I’m not a needy person” she started “But I think... Now that I’m allowed to do what I want... I think I need a hug”. Grimm gagged

“Gross. Super needy”. But without needing to be told twice he wrapped his arms around her slender frame and rested his chin on the top of her head. “I hope you don’t need too many of these. I’m not a big hugger and you’re practically a Hobbit. As if I don’t have enough back aches in my old age”. Eris laughed, screwing up her nose as she buried her face into his chest. “You aren’t that old are you?”

“I’m 43”

“Practically an ancient relic”. She mumbled in to his chest. The nearness of her causing his stomach to flip unexpectedly. Without thinking, one of his hands found it’s way into Eris’s fiery hair. It was slightly oily due to not being washed properly in some time as they hadn’t managed to gather quite enough shampoos and soaps for the whole facility on their scout run and officers took priority on goods. And the last of the toiletries Eris had brought with her she was saving for Dorian to use. Grimm made a mental note to start taking his own bag on scout duties to make sure Eris and Dorian weren’t going to go without. He wondered just how much trouble that would land him in with Yarran. Eris broke free of the hug and gazed up at Grimm. “How did you get these?” she asked, reaching up as far as she could manage to indicate to the scarring left over from his Glasgow smile and over his brows. Grimm suddenly felt naked under her gaze, a strange vulnerability that he was not quite used to. He shifted uncomfortably, easing her head back to his chest so he wouldn’t have to see the pity in her eyes that he has seen on so many faces before when he gave his answer. “My father wasn’t a very nice man” he said, sighing. “Actually, he wasn’t all that different from your Hu-... From James”. Eris squeezed him a little tighter around the midsection. “He used to hurt my mother a lot. Badly too. She never stood up for her self once in the whole time they’d been together. Not until he turned on me.” He paused to clear his throat and was keenly aware that her hands had begun to rub soothing circles on his lower back. “I can’t remember what it was that set him off that day. It was probably a whole bunch of little things. But I must have said something that pissed him off and he flew at me. My father was an avid whittler. Typical Southern pastime. He grabbed his whittling blade and started swinging. I fought him off as best I could. But it wasn’t enough. Eventually he got me on the ground and he stuck the blade in my mouth. My mother tried to pull him off me and in the struggle he dropped the whittling blade but the damage to my face was done, I was bleeding a fair bit. Covered in my own blood and sick, about to pass out from the pain when I saw him turn on her. He grabbed the cast iron skillet she had fetched to fend him off. Just snatched it right from her...” An unexpected sob caught in Grimm’s throat. He took a moment to compose himself, though tears brimmed at the corners of his eyes. “He hit her. Twenty times with that skillet. Caving her head in. I counted every one of them. He killed her with the first few swings, the rest was just overkill. With the last of my strength I reached for the blade, threw myself on his back, and opened his throat up with it... I’m not sorry I did it... But I am sorry I didn’t do it sooner”. His voice cracked, the sob he had been holding escaped. His mouth pressed in to a thin, tight line as the tears began to spill over he stared up at the ceiling and groaned. “I loved that woman more than life itself. And he took her away from me. And that could have easily been you!”. Eris decided to ignore that last statement, finally she looked up at him, her heart aching for this gentle giant. “How old were you?” he gulped

“14”. Eris murmured something as she pressed into him further, almost driving him back against the door. “I’m so sorry, Grimm”.

Grimm didn’t answer. He had no answer to give. Instead he stood there and cried as if he hadn’t already told this story a thousand times over. As if he didn’t relive that moment every night in his dreams.

When his sobs had turned to little more than shuddering breaths, Eris looked up at him again, “Is that why you care so much about what happens to Dorian and I?”. Grimm chewed his lip thoughtfully as he rubbed at his wet eyes. “Only a part of it” he admitted. Eris reached up on the tips of her toes and planted a kiss on the hollow of his neck, as it was as high up as she could reach. He looked down at her in surprise and she whispered “thank you… what’s the other part?”. Before he could stop himself, or even string together a coherent enough thought to consider their friendship, he angled his head down, and captured her lips with his. It was a brief, gentle kiss. But it was enough to set his soul on fire. And it was enough to send Eris in to a delighted panic. James had rarely ever kissed her. And on the rare occasion he did, it somehow made her feel sick and uneasy. Kisses with James were the calm before a storm. A lure in to a false sense of security. A kiss with James meant trouble was coming. This kiss was gentle, enthusiastic even. She grabbed a fist full of the bottom of Grimm’s shirt in an attempt to pull him closer. Forgetting just how injured she was for a moment, Grimm moved his hands up to cup her face. A jarring pain shot through Eris’s injured jaw and she yelped, jumping back from the kiss. Realizing that he had both hurt her, and crossed a line Grimm stepped back, pressing himself against the door. “I’m sorry!” he blurted, one hand stretched out towards her in concern as she probed her jaw with tentative fingers . She was panting, she looked disappointed.

“Me too” she breathed. “I didn’t mean to overstep.. I just-”

“We’re both just a little vulnerable right now I think” Grimm conceded, equally disappointed.

“Yeah... Do you hate me for it?” Grimm softened instantly. Hate her? How could he hate her? That kiss, as chaste and brief as it was had driven him crazy. But how could he tell her that? How could he tell her when it meant something entirely different to her than it did to him? For her it meant a tonic to the ache of despair. For him it was something he’d hungered for since the moment he’d set eyes on her. Grimm wasn’t a big believer in love at first sight but it had certainly been lust that led him like a man possessed to the point he was at now. Which was a little more than lust, but not quite love. Grimm wondered if there was a word for that?

‘The Germans probably have a word for it’ he thought to himself. ‘They have a word for everything’.-

Grimm forced himself to smile and answered her aloud “When have I ever been mad at you?. People do strange things when they are sad and vulnerable. That’s all this was. I did it too, you know? So if I was mad at you I’d have to be mad at myself as well.” Eris nodded, knitting her hands together.

“Okay, sounds fair... I am sorry. Truly...But I didn’t hate it either.” She said looking around at nothing in particular. Grimm’s throat tightened and his face turned an alarming shade of red as he groaned internally. Fighting to keep his composure he smiled. “Me neither” he admitted.

“This is gonna be awkward now, isn’t it?” she asked, her voice small. Grimm shrugged and opened the bathroom door for her to pass through. “I won’t make it awkward if you don’t” he promised as he stooped low so she could sling her right arm over his shoulders, while his left arm circled her waist, supporting the majority of her weight in order to help her back to their room.

She didn’t say anything on the way back, and Grimm cursed at himself a million times over. Both for kissing her in the first place, and for not kissing her a second time.

Neither of them slept much that night. Eris lay awake, her arm draped over Dorian, and her eyes fixed on the wall. Her tongue repeatedly tracing her lips where Grimm’s had pressed against them. Grimm had stared at her back, waiting for her to fall asleep for the longest time before sneaking out of the room on tipped toes and heading for the officers showers. Stripping off he threw himself under the cold water and shuddered. He rested his head against the white tiled walls and groaned. His eyes shut tight, he struggled to fight off the memories of Eris’s lips on his neck, the feel of her body under his touch, the sharp, nervous intake of breath she took when he’d kissed her. He had tried to downplay the kiss as if it was nothing more than desperate vulnerability between two friends who were equally broken. And perhaps that’s all it was to her. But that kiss had opened a floodgate of images that were both unwelcome, and devilishly enticing. He began to fantasize about how the scenario could have gone if she wasn’t injured. If he hadn’t of grabbed her jaw so hard. Would they have stopped?

In his minds eye he saw her over-sized, borrowed shirt riding up as she wrapped her legs around his waist, exposing the cute moth tattoo he loved so much. He pictured himself pinning her against the wall, his head sinking down to her chest. He could almost feel the way her hands would have tugged desperately at his hair and could almost hear the moan of his name on her lips, begging him not to stop the onslaught of his tongue as it traveled lower and lower. Or the way her legs would have clamped tight around his shoulders if he pulled her under ware to the side to taste her. He grew excited at the thought, practically buzzing with nerves over a scene that was doomed to never play out. And he gave himself a sharp slap to the cheek and shook his head. Attempting to will the images away.

Then he recalled the feeling of the small metal stud on her tongue and all hell broke loose in his mind. She was driving him crazy. His ex wife had driven him crazy. But apart from her, no other woman had before or since until now made him quite so wild in his desire.

In his mind, Grimm resolved to keep his distance physically in order to preserve their friendship, and his kinship to Dorian without complicating things. But even as the thought occurred to him, the voice in the back of his head confirmed what he already knew to be true. If she wanted to be close to him again, he would not have the will power to deny her. Things were already complicated and try as he might he wouldn’t be able to un-complicate them.