Page 48 of Claimed By the Damned
Ethan nods, getting to work.
Ryker lets out a harsh breath, scrubbing a hand over his face. The raw violence still simmers, but the immediate explosion seems contained, for now. He looks at me, eyes still burning. “So what? I just sit here while you two play cloak and dagger?”
“No,” I say, my voice leaving no room for argument. “You’re going to help me finalize security.”
Ryker frowns. “She’s already got security.We’reher security.”
“It's not enough.” I take another sip of whiskey before setting the glass down with a deliberate clink. “She needs dedicated eyes on her whenever she leaves the property. Someone watching her constantly.”
Ryker’s frown deepens. “She’s gonna fucking hate that.”
“She doesn’t have a choice.”
Ethan snorts. “Good luck telling her that.”
I roll my shoulders, already anticipating the fight Lila will put up. “We’re bringing in Grim. He’s already on-site as part of the perimeter team—she just hasn’t had much interaction with him. He’s perfect for this. Predictable in his effectiveness.”
Silence. Then Ryker lets out a low chuckle. “Oh, she’sreallygonna love him.”
Ethan shakes his head. “Grim’s… a lot.”
“That’s exactly why we need him. His talent for counter-surveillance and predicting movement is unmatched, even if his methods are... unorthodox.”
My voice is firm, leaving no room for argument. "Mikhailov knowssomething. He's testing us. We can't afford any vulnerability. Lila's immediate safety is paramount. I look pointedly at Ethan. "Text Grim. Tell him to come have a chat."
Ethan nods, already pulling out his phone and typing a quick message. We wait in tense silence, the weight of Lila's testimony and the implications of Kolya's reach settling heavily.
A minute later, the door opens, and a mountain of a man steps inside. Kieran "Grim" O’Rourke. Six-foot-five and built like a battering ram, he carries the kind of presence that makes even trained killers take a step back.
His broad shoulders strain against a fitted black tactical shirt, and his knuckles are bruised like he recently came from breaking something—or someone. Covered in tattoos—military, personal, some perhaps just for the pain—he has a grin that’s equal parts menace and amusement. His eyes flick over us, sizing up the situation instantly by the tension in the room.
"My ears were burning. You been talking about me?” Grim’s voice is thick with amusement.
Ryker snorts, leaning back. "Only if calling you a 'pain in the ass' counts."
Grim grins wider, clapping Ryker hard on the shoulder, a blow that would stagger a smaller man. "Glad someone noticed. Being easy wouldn't get the job done, would it, Cage?" He glances at Ethan, who’s already pulling up a file. "Still glued to that screen, Mercer? Haven't hacked the Pentagon again, have we?"
Ethan shoots him a look over his laptop. "Wouldn't you like to know."
The easy, rough banter fills the space for a moment, a clear bond developed over years of shared danger, establishing Grim not as an outsider, but as part of our fucked-up ecosystem. Only then does his gaze settle fully on me, the humor receding slightly, replaced by professional focus. "Alright, Boss. What's got you looking like someone pissed in your whiskey?"
I cross my arms, my expression grim. "Lila's in danger. Her past caught up. Nikolai Mikhailov, her husband, found her. Sent hera taunting message—a bracelet. He hasn’t made a move yet, but he will. It’s only a matter of time."
Grim’s usual smirk falters slightly, his gaze hardening. "And you need me to make sure she stays breathing?"
I nod. "Exactly. She’s stubborn, doesn’t like feeling caged, but we don’t have a choice. When she leaves the property, I always want someone on her. Someone we trust."
Grim cracks his knuckles, the menace creeping back into his grin. "Alright. Sounds like my kind of job. I'll protect the little princess."
Ryker shakes his head, clearly entertained despite the situation. “Just don’t get yourself killed messing with her. She’s tougher than she lets on.”
Ethan sighs. “Can we at least try to make this easy on her?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Grim stretches like he’s settling in. “So, do I get to meet her now, or do I wait for my royal introduction?”
“She’s sleeping,” I say. “Let her rest.”
“Soft,” Grim mutters under his breath. Then louder, to no one in particular, “So, when do we start making this Kolya guy regret being born?”
