It’s so tight in here that I can barely breathe. Or maybe that’s just because Grim is so close. Because I can feel every inch of his body pressed against mine. Because he smells like him…masculine and smoky and delicious.
I’m reminded of how Sally called him Grimalicious, and I give a tiny smile, my heart hurting just a little as I picture her lying in a hospital bed attached to a whole host of machines, including a ventilator.
I try hard to dislodge the thought.
Grim’s heart beats solidly against my chest. I feel the rise and fall of his chest against mine. And the heat of his skin, even through our clothes.
A muffled knock sounds at the front door. We’re close enough to hear it, which means that they’re close enough to hear us if we make so much as a squeak.
Grim’s grip on me tightens a little before releasing. I’m not alone. It’s all going to be fine. I press my face against his chest and squeeze my eyes shut.
Please don’t let them find us. Please, please, please.
“Just a moment!” Falkor calls out, his voice steady despite the chaos moments before.
I hear the front door open and the creak of the hinges.
I think Falkor says something, but I can’t make out what it is.
“Good afternoon, sir,” a male voice says, sounding formal and authoritative. “We’re from Draig Security. We’re conducting searches in this area. May we come in?”
“Of course, of course,” Falkor says. I can only just make it out, as he’s speaking softly. “Please, come right in. What’s this all about?” Louder this time as he moves inside the hallway, closer to where we are hiding.
The handle of the front door bumps against the closet door.
I hold my breath as I hear multiple pairs of booted footsteps enter the house.
“We’re looking for this male. I’m sure you heard about the terrible incident at the Vaccination Center.” There’s a pause. “Look at this photograph. Have you seen him?”
My heart is hammering so hard I’m afraid they’ll hear it.
“Let me see,” Falkor says. A pause. “Hmmmmm. He looks…familiar, somehow. But no, I don’t think I’ve seen him.”
“Are you certain, sir?”
“Well, my memory isn’t what it used to be,” Falkor admits with a self-deprecating chuckle. “But I spend most of my time at home. Don’t get out much these days. My joints, you know.”
“We need to search your home,” the Security officer says. “Standard procedure. I’m sure you won’t object.”
“Of course, of course. Please, look wherever you need to. I have nothing to hide. I will stay right here and out of your way.” He raises his voice as they walk deeper into the house.
Good old Falkor is positioning himself between them and us.
There’s the muffled sound of heavy boots on hardwood floors as well as doors opening and closing.
Every muscle in my body is taut with fear. Sweat beads on my forehead.
I need to hold it together a little longer. Just a little longer.
I press myself a little more flush against Grim, practically holding my breath as they return.
“Do you live alone, sir?” the officer asks Falkor.
I hope they didn’t find something. Something stupid we missed that will give us away.
“Yes, I do,” Falkor replies. “My mate passed several years ago. My children visit when they can, but…” he sighs, “they’re all grown now with kids of their own. It’s always good to see my family…my grandbabies, especially. I have four of them now. Can you believe it?”
“That’s wonderful. Sorry about your mate, sir.”
