Or how his biceps caged my head.
How his eyes kept darting back to me, brow furrowed.
This close I saw the shadow sharpening his jaw, the softness on his lips, the scar on his upper lip.
Thepopsbecame few and far between, ending with one that sounded far away.
Grim still pressed me deep into the sand, and I felt warm. Safe. He lifted up a little bit, giving me air, and I saw his shoulder had darkened with something wet.
I touched his shoulder and he grimaced. My hand came away painted red.
“You’re hurt,” I said.
“Wraith!” Grim yelled, ignoring me, and the smoke in his voice choked. Footsteps muted by the sand landed next to my head.
“We got most of them,” Wraith said, eyes on the horizon.
“He’s hurt,” I said. Desperation clawed at my throat.
“Did you go and get yourself shot?” Wraith bent down, his brow furrowing.
“It’s nothing. Who the fuck was it?”
I thought to what Vander had said.
“He knew,” I said, despair twisting my voice into something foreign. “He figured it out.”
“Gemma?” Grayson’s frantic voice cut through the air. “Gemma, where are you?” Moments later, he landed next to the Horsemen. “Gemma, are you okay? Is she okay?”
“I’m fine. Grim is the one who is hurt.” I pushed gently at Grim, trying to free myself. “He needs a doctor.”
Grim seemed reluctant to let me go, still holding me in that fierce, protective grip. But as I pushed, he slowly released. He climbed off me and held out a hand, still scanning the horizon, his entire body tense, as if waiting for a threat.
I took his hand and hopped to my feet.
Wraith, Lock, and Raze made a wall blocking the hedge’s entrance. My brother stood to the side, worry storming in his blue eyes. They all seemed fine. Tense, but not hurt.
I waited for Grayson to yell, to be (rightfully) mad at the danger I’d put his family in, to demand I move back in.
“How many bodies are back there?” Grayson asked, turning his attention to the Horsemen.
Lock rubbed the back of his neck. “I got two.”
“I got three,” Raze said.
“Bullshit—” Lock started.
“Five,” Wraith said, cutting them off.
Grayson nodded slowly, thinking. “I can’t stop anyone at the party from calling the police.”
“Buy us an hour and it won’t be a problem,” Wraith said. “We’ll clean up and you can say it was fireworks gone bad.”
Grayson nodded. “I can do that.”
“Grim needs to see a doctor!” I blurted. The urgency bubbled up inside me. Grim wasshot. How could they sit and discuss cleanup like trying to coordinate a carpool?
Everyone turned to him, and Grim shook his head. “It was through and through.”
