Page 54 of Claimed By the Damned
The man hesitates, his fingers twitching. Then Grim moves.
Fast.
One moment he is a few feet away; the next, he has the guy pinned against the wall, arm twisted painfully behind his back. The man grunts, struggling, but Grim just leans in closer, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper.
“You like using your hands on women, huh?” A dark chuckle rumbles in his chest as his grip tightens mercilessly on the man's captured wrist—the same one that had clamped onto me. “Let’s see how well this one works when it’s broken.”
Before the man can even process the threat, Grim applies brutal, practiced pressure. A sickeningcrackechoes sharply in the confined space, followed immediately by an agonized howl from the attacker.
Grim releases him abruptly. The man stumbles back, clutching his mangled wrist, his face pale and beaded with sweat, his hand already swelling at an unnatural angle. He stares at Grim with wide, terrified eyes, his gaze darting desperately towards the back door just a few feet away—his entry point and only viable escape route.
Grim stands there between the man and the main part of the shop, an immovable object radiating menace. The unspoken threat is clear: retreat the way you came, or face worse. Pure terror wipes out any fight he had left. He doesn't hesitate. He scrambles backwards towards the rear exit, fumbling blindly for the handle with his good hand, yanks the door open, and practically falls out into the alleyway, disappearing from sight.
The thud of the back door slamming shut resonates in the sudden quiet.
I suck in a shaky breath, leaning heavily against the cool plaster of the wall as my legs turn to jelly. The metallic tang of adrenaline fills my mouth. Before I can fully process what just happened, hurried footsteps echo from the front of the shop.
Stephanie appears at the entrance to the short hallway, eyes wide with alarm, her hand pressed to her chest. “Lila? Oh my god, what was that noise? I heard someone scream! Are you okay?” Her eyes dart frantically between my pale, trembling form and Grim, who stands like an unmovable sentinel nearby.
Grim turns slightly towards her, his expression shifting seamlessly from lethal calm back to casual indifference, though his eyes remain sharp. “Just dealing with a little trash that wandered in the wrong door,” he says, his tone deliberately nonchalant. He gestures vaguely towards the now-closed back exit. “Handled.” He then turns his full attention back to me, effectively dismissing Stephanie’s rising panic while simultaneously assessing my state. He tilts his head. “You good, Princess?”
I swallow hard, managing a shaky nod even though my hands are still trembling. Relief wars with the residual fear and the stark violence I just witnessed.
Stephanie still looks unconvinced, hovering anxiously. "Handled? What does that even—"
Grim steps closer to me then, subtly blocking Stephanie's line of sight and interrupting her gently but firmly. He sighs dramatically, shaking his head as if dealing with minor inconveniences.
“Man, I leave you alone for five minutes and you’re already attracting lowlifes. At this rate, I’m gonna have to start keeping you on a leash.”
His attempt at normalcy, even layered with his usual teasing, somehow helps cut through the lingering shock. Despite everything, a weak, slightly hysterical laugh bubbles up.
Grim grins, a flash of approval in his eyes. “That’s better.” He glances back at Stephanie, his expression hardening slightly as his focus shifts to practicalities. Giving her a curt nod that impliesLila's okay, crisis averted, he then adds, his voice lowand firm, "Stephanie. Lock that back door. Now. Bolt it, if you can. And keep it locked."
Stephanie blinks, the direct order cutting through her residual worry. She nods quickly, understanding dawning in her eyes. "Right. Yes. Locked." She turns immediately, heading towards the back door with newfound purpose.
Satisfied she'll follow through, Grim turns his attention fully back to me. “Now c’mon,” he says, his voice softening fractionally again, “let’s get you a drink before you pass out on me.”
And just like that, the immediate terror recedes further, replaced by the steadying thrum of Grim’s dangerous, protective presence. Safety washes over me again, unsettlingly solid.
Getting back to the house that evening had been... intense. Ryker had nearly blown a gasket, Ethan’s face had gone pale and grim, and even Bastian’s legendary control had cracked, his voice tight with fury as he demanded details.
They'd all wanted me to quit immediately, to stay locked down inside the house "until this is over." But I'd dug my heels in. It had felt too much like giving in, too much like letting Kolya shrink my world back down to the size of a cage.
I argued that the guy hadn't actually tried totakeme, just scare me, that Grim had handled it before he could escalate, and that Stephanie would keep the back door bolted from now on.
It was Grim, surprisingly, who'd finally shut down their arguments, assuring them with icy certainty that he wouldn't let me out of his sight for a single second, that hecouldkeep me safe without chaining me to the damn living room. They hadn't liked it, but they'd reluctantly agreed, largely due to Grim's unwavering confidence.
So, a few days have passed, and Grim is still glued to my side, his presence an overbearing but oddly reassuring constant. We just left the Blooming Nook after I finished closing up, and now we're heading back to the house. The roads are slick from an earlier rain, the glow of streetlights reflecting off the pavement. I sit in the passenger seat of his SUV, arms crossed, staring out the window.
“I still don’t need a full-time babysitter,” I mutter.
The bodyguard snorts. “Sure,Princess. That’s why we’re currently being followed.”
My stomach plummets. “Wait, what?”
Then a jarringTHUMPresonates through the entire frame of the SUV, an impact so violent it slams me forward, stealing my breath. My head snaps forward, hitting the headrest with a loud thud despite the seatbelt locking hard against my chest. Metal screams against metal, a deafening, high-pitched shriek that fills the cab.
Grim reacts instantly, his grip tightening on the wheel as the SUV jerks. His free hand hovers near his jacket, but he doesn’t pull whatever weapon is hiding there—yet.
