I glance at Wren. She has a hand over her face, and her shoulders are hunched.
“I’m sorry about that.” Her voice is muffled through her fingers. She pulls her hand away, and her face is blood red. “Just in case you didn’t realize, Sally is trying to set us up.”
My first instinct is to smile. The urge is so strong it almost wins.
“That much is clear,” I say.
Wren’s flush deepens, spreading down her neck and disappearing beneath the collar of her shirt. She won’t meet my eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Grim.”
“It’s not your fault,” I tell her.
“Ignore her. She means well,” Wren tells me. “Look, let’s just go and get lunch.” The words tumble out of her in a rush. “It’s all good because I don’t date people I work with.” Her face somehow manages to go even redder. “Not that I think your asking us out to lunch was you trying something with me.” She makes a groaning sound. “What I’m trying to say is, ignore Sally. She is sweet but completely misguided. You don’t have to feel awkward about this or anything.”
I feel a twinge of disappointment when she tells me that she doesn’t date people she works with. Which is fucking ridiculous because I absolutely do not want to date her.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“Of course. Sally means well,” I manage. “We should go.”
We head toward my SUV in awkward silence. I can feel the tension radiating off her, and I want to say something to make it less weird. But I don’t know what that would be, so I keep my mouth shut.
My SUV is parked at the far end of the lot, in the shade of a large tree. As we get closer, I hear the rumble of an engine.
A van pulls into the parking lot. It’s moving fast, tires screeching as it takes the turn too hard, parking right in front ofus. The side door slides open before it even comes to a complete stop.
Males spill out.
Eight, maybe nine of them. All big. All mean-looking. They’re armed with knives, clubs, and a couple with chains wrapped around their fists.
I recognize one of them immediately. The blond hair, the gray eyes, that mean-looking face. It’s Kaine.
The runner I brought in last week. The conspiracy theorist.
“Grim?” Wren’s voice is small and uncertain. “Is that…?”
“Yes. It’s the anti-vaxxer from last week,” I confirm, my eyes never leaving the group. They’re fanning out, forming a loose semicircle. Cutting off our path to the SUV. Cutting off any easy escape.
“Why are they here?” Her voice trembles.
I don’t answer. I’m too busy assessing the situation. Nine against one. All of them armed. All of them pissed off.
This isn’t good.
Kaine steps forward, a sick smile spreading across his face. “Remember me, Grim?”
“Hard to forget,” I growl.
“You dragged me in here and forced that poison into my veins.” His smile turns into a snarl. “You’re one of them. A tool of the Mainland. A fucking traitor to your own kind.”
The other males start closing in, weapons at the ready.
“Wren,” I say, my voice low and urgent. “Run. Get back to the building. Barricade the door.”
“But—”
“Now!”
