Page 34 of Grease's Guide
“It's time for my team to go to work. This is what we are good at. This is what we do.”
“Be careful, Daddy. Please. I still need you,” Piper says with tears in her eyes as Swift tugs on her arm, trying to get her to safety.
“You are well taken care of, baby girl. You went out and found more in your life than I could have ever hoped for. Keep holding onto that and to them tight, baby. Death grip.”
“Death grip,” Piper repeats as Ghost turns back to face the property.
“Wait! Someone in there helped us! They shouldn't have to die after setting us free,” Lyra protests softly from my arms. She’s breathing hard, and I know I need to get her to Grim.
“I know who it was, and I can tell you they are no longer in that house. My guess is he’s already off the property. I watched him sneak through a side door as we started running.” Halle shrugs.
“One of my contacts mentioned a secret takeover might be going down in this organization, but the boss is in there now. We confirmed it with the drones Rasputin sent out earlier. He had the nerve to take my baby girl, my family. He won't live past the night. Time to clean up.”
I don't stick around to wait for what comes next. I race toward the trees and back toward the extraction point. I watch as every one of my brothers makes it to safety, holding their women in their arms, Swift being one step in front of me. I don't know who all is hurt. All I know is I feel warm blood sinking through my shirt, next to my heart, and down my arm.
As we make it through the clearing, I notice Grim checking over every inch of Jade. When he seems satisfied she wasn't hit, he turns back to the group.
“Who’s hurt? We need to access the wounded, get what we can bandaged up. Does anyone have fatal injuries?” He’s yelling to be heard around the chaos.
“Where are you hurt, Toots? Please, lord, be okay.” My voice breaks on the last sentence. Lyra raises her bloody hand to my cheek, cupping it and staring into my eyes. Then her eyes roll back in her head, and she promptly passes out.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Lyra
“Fuck me, Grease. If I have to tell you one more fucking time she’s going to be fine. I’m kicking your ass out.” I hear Grim growl.
“Oh, I want to see you try it. I will weld both of our fucking asses inside this damn room until you find a way to wake her up!” I smile at the ridiculousness of those two.
“Even unconscious, you seem to have the ability to be a pain in my ass. Can you please stop threatening my doctor?” I push past my scratchy throat, then cough and try to chuckle.
“See, listen to your nowawakewoman. I know what I’m fucking talking about,” Grim grumbles as he steps up beside me.
“How you doing, darlin?” Grim asks, checking over my arm and leg.
“Pretty good. Feeling a bit tired. What happened?” I ask, trying to sit up but wincing as pain shoots through my arm.
“You lost a good amount of blood, but luckily, we were able to get you back to the clubhouse and patched up. You took a shot to the arm and calf. You're going to be sore for a bit, but nothing permanent. Keep it clean, don't pull at the stitches, and I’ll see you for a check-up in two weeks. Now, although I love ya and glad you're okay, Lyra, I’m dying to return to my woman and baby girl,” he says before giving me a small smile and exiting the room.
Grease helps me up slowly, and I swing my legs over the side of the bed.
“Here, let me help you,” he says softly. Gently, he grabs me under my knees and behind my back, lifting me from the bed and carrying me out of the room. He heads down the hall and toward his room.
“Are you hungry? Thirsty? Need anything?” he asks nervously. I want to smile at this new, unsure Grease before me. Something about his nervousness puts me at ease and settles the leftover nerves and panic from the incident.
“No, I’m fine. Actually, I just want a shower and more sleep,” I tell him honestly.
“Your wish is my command.” He smiles softly down at me before kissing my forehead and opening the door to our room.
He carries me straight to the bathroom before setting me down on the countertop. Without saying a word, he slowly helps me out of my clothes, then pulls a roll of saran wrap from under the sink and gently wraps it around my bandages. When I raise my eyebrow in question, he chuckles.
“Not my first time experience with gunshots or stickers toots.”
“I’m not even going to ask.” I shake my head, clinging to him as he lifts me and carries me into the shower. He gently but efficiently washes me from head to toe and, to my utter disappointment, does absolutely nothing more.
I lean into his hands, but he doesn't linger, and I need him so much it's driving me insane. Given the situation, I know it might seem inappropriate, but I need to feel him. Need to know that I’m here with him and no one else. I need to feel safe in his arms and in his love. He carefully dries me off, pulls a clean shirt over my head, and pulls on a pair of boxers. I know he’s putting a barrier between us. We’ll see how long that lasts. I smile as he picks me up and carries me to bed, placing gentle kisses across his neck.
“Tootsie, you need time and rest,” he says, placing me on the bed before turning off the lamp beside the bed, then climbing in with me. He pulls me into his chest, being careful with my arm and leg. As we lay there, I can’t help but snuggle into him, running my hand along his chest. I need to feel him. I need to feel that connection. I need a reminder that he is here, that we are safe. That I have him, and he has me. I need to get got lost in him. It doesn’t take long for my efforts to yield a reaction and a reluctant groan from him.