Our logo was Greek inspired, and it had a snake twisting its way through the middle. It made my theory-driven brain go into overdrive with how much meaning was being hidden in one symbol.
The receptionist’s desk in front of his office was empty, blank, and devoid of anything that could make this transition easier.
With a huff and an eye roll, I pushed his door open slightly to peer inside. I was on the way after his house, when he wasn’t even dressed; there was no way he had gotten there before me.
Just as I assumed, his office was empty. It was the first time I had seen inside, and I took advantage of it, wandering inside.
Framed photos covered the walls: a girl in a ski mask with fake lashes and smoke pouring from her mouth, a Bible on fire, and nude photos that didn’t make you uncomfortable, because you weren’t looking at someone in a vulnerable state, but rather, because they were beautifully deranged.
He didn’t have any extra furniture like Vic’s office did, only a desk with a laptop, one chair, and not even a phone.
Grimm was known for hating his job here, but I didn’t know he hated it so much that it translated to disrespectful.
I was lost in the art covering his walls when a sound flooded my ears, shaking me in my skin. It sounded like he broke something as my eyes scanned the room to see a black vase with red roses scattered on the floor. The vase wasn’t salvageable, but at least the roses were.
Quickly grabbing the half empty Fiji water bottle off the desk, I put the flower stems inside and put it back where it had fallen from in the meantime.
“You said be here in 30 minutes, and I was already late, making you very late.”
“That’s no way to talk to your new boss, toots.” He practically stepped over from, as I carefully picked up the pieces of the broken vase.
“Boss? What do you even do here? You blow off meetings, and you don’t shake hands or save face. You don’t even have a receptionist.”
“Don’t ask questions you aren’t ready to hear the answer to.” Strolling by me cleaning up his mess, he added on to the end, “My office is off limits. Don’t come in here without permission again.”
I wanted to scream. I wanted to crawl back to Vic and beg forgiveness. I wanted to quit right then and there.
Silently, I got up, holding the glass carefully in my hands and walking to the kitchen—a neutral area, away from my new boss. Dropping the glass in the trash and washing my hands, I felt a sting as the cold water hit my palm.
Great, not even a few hours at his desk, and he’s already drawing blood.
Hiding in the kitchen, I started to clean the counters, to go through the forgotten food in the fridge, and to toss and organize the small packets of condiments. Grimm didn’t even come find me or demand I do something for him.
Maybe this won’t be so bad if we just stay away from each other.
GRIMM
The fact that I stayed at the office for more than a few hours was a miracle in itself. I was bored to tears.
I had surfed the web, bought a new bulletproof vest, and browsed some porn sites, trying to take up some of my time, but the only thing that had my attention was Abigail on her hands and knees, cleaning up broken glass.
She vacated my presence like the room was on fire. I had to actually look around to make sure it wasn’t.
Abigail didn’t even know I was saving her life.
Ironic, isn’t it? Death saving someone from certain death.
Grabbing my phone from my desk, I debated finding her and giving her some pointless job to keep her busy, but it turns out I couldn’t force myself to care long enough to find her when she wasn’t at the plain desk outside my office.
I had better shit to do than waste my time here. Rub elbows with the corrupt, go to the shooting range, avoid my freak of a mom, go to therapy, avoid more people…
Anything but sit at a desk with nothing to do.
I was a caged animal in that office. No food. No water. Just me and my dangerous thoughts—the kind of thoughts that would drive a sane person mad.
My head was a horror movie—dark, twisted, unexpected, and pushing a lot of boundaries. Ones you didn’t know you even had.
Tucking my phone in my back pocket, I made my way to the front of the office, where the exit was, when Vic shouted my name from behind me. I decided to ignore him and keep going, but he shouted louder, making it hard to pretend I didn’t hear him.
“You ready for tonight?”
My bored expression turned into a grimace, waiting for him to explain whatever he had planned.
“Jesus-fucking-Christ, Grimm…” I watched him almost give up expanding on his disappointment when he pushed out a heavy sigh. “Forgot already? It’s the Hunt tonight.”
The Hunt.
Fuck.
A long standing tradition our families participated in up at the Estate tucked in the mountains, far away from any prying eyes.
It was exactly how it sounded: fucked up and an elitist game only we could play, because only we would get away with it. All you needed to play was a five million dollar buy in, a smile of advantages and connections.
Our four families hosted the event every year. We hosted royalty from other countries, political assholes, and entrepreneurs who were playing into our hands by creating the misdirection we needed to pull the strings without the world knowing it was us.
I had forgotten all about why Abigail was in my house uninvited this morning. Skipping the Hunt wasn’t an option, otherwise I would happily stay home.
“Maybe I’ll see you there.”
His hand landed on my shoulder, regardless of knowing how much I hated being touched. My glare bore into him, demanding silently for him to remove his hand from my body.
“Not optional, but nice try. We’ll all meet at your house and cruise together.”
Walking away, I waved a hand behind me having heard enough, just before Abigail said my name.
Jesus, could I not leave the damn office without being noticed?
Stopping without turning around, I snarled, “What, Abigail? What?!”
“Where are you going? It’s only 9:30 a.m.”
Vic never left early, and he never broke the rules unless it was to his advantage. He controlled the bodies around him like a control freak. I never had to be responsible for anyone else but myself. I didn’t even have a fucking pet.
I didn’t know what to tell her. She could do whatever she wanted, and I would sign the checks, just to not have to be responsible for her death.
My receptionist or... dead. We couldn’t fire people, just to let them loose into the world with our secrets. No, people who were fired were put down.
No one left the Clave that easily.
“And…? I’m leaving.”
“What do you want me to do then?”
Still walking away, I pressed the elevator button a few times, like it would hail the elevator faster. It didn’t. Pressing the button multiple times as an impatient prick doesn’t actually make the elevator come any sooner.
“Do whatever you want. I don’t care.”
She came right up to me, pissed off that I was giving her the easiest workday she had here, ever. “Are you kidding me? I’m your employee, and you have no direction for me?”
Finally facing her, our eyes met. “I have therapy. Do you wanna drive me?”
Her expression seethed something that no one dared to shoot my way: wrath.