Are you in danger?

She thought for a moment.

Yes, no. Just come get me…please.

On my way, he answered.

Brody squeezed his hands on the steering wheel and turned around in his seat to look at her. “You don’t really mean that. You can’t just up and forgive me for the way I’ve treated you. Mina, I’ve never been so confused before. I feel like I’m in a tug of war of emotions. When I’m with Nan, it’s like a powerful force of nature and I can’t fight it. I don’t know how to fight it. But I feel so much for you. I don’t…I’m not sure—”

Mina didn’t let him finish because she saw the dual headlights coming down the road, and they slowed to a halt in front of the car. She grabbed her purse and notebook, and opened the door. Brody was surprised by her sudden exit and opened the driver’s door to jump out after her.

She couldn’t just abandon him without an explanation. She turned back and took a deep breath, being careful to keep her tears at bay. She stepped up to the door and closed it. Brody’s warm hand came down on top of hers through the open window.

“Sometimes love is worth fighting for. And if you don’t fight for it, then it slips through your fingers.” She pulled her hand away.

He looked devastated, but she didn’t turn back, and instead continued to walk toward the Ford Boss. Jared was being careful to not make eye contact with Brody. For once he was being the gentleman. She only hoped that she hadn’t interrupted his date with Ever.

She slid into the front seat and opened the window as Brody pulled away. The rush of wind in her hair and the hum of the engine lulled her into a place of nothingness. Refusing to think of Brody, of Jared, of Teague, she concentrated on a happy place. Of a time when she was still with her brother, playing board games. Moments later Jared pulled up to the Grimm house and waited by the gate. Mina leaned forward across him and punched in the code, and the gate opened up. He drove slowly up to the front door and turned off the engine. She sat in the car, still numb, and he walked around to the passenger side.

He didn’t speak, didn’t ask any awkward questions, and she respected him for it. He saw that she was hurting, and he reached out to grab her arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. She lost it. She threw herself into his arms and started crying, using him as a shoulder to cry on. He held his hands up in the air awkwardly before he wrapped them around her and let her cry herself out.

When she was done blubbering, she pulled herself away and used the sleeve of her jacket to wipe away the tears. “I’m so sorry.” She sighed.

“Nonsense. I’ve watched many Grimms grieve over the years, and I think I like the way you do it the best,” he answered.

>Did you enjoy your date tonight? ~T

The words appeared for a few seconds and then faded into the paper. Teague must be writing in the book on the Fae plan to make it appear in hers on the physical plane. An image appeared in her mind of the dark-haired prince leaning over a golden column in a round room. On the column sat a very large and ancient book. He was looking around to see if anyone was spying on him, and then leaned forward to write in its pages with a white quill.

She scrambled in her purse for a pen and tentatively wrote back on the Grimoire, her heart pounding with adrenaline.

He was a disappointment. I had higher expectations. But I guess I’m hard to please. She couldn’t believe she was doing this, taunting the Story through the Grimoire. She didn’t even know it was possible.

I’ll try harder to meet your expectations next time. And you can be sure there will be a next time…and a next…and a next.

I will defeat you!

There was a long pause, and she thought that he had left and stopped writing. She stared at the page, willing an answer to appear, but nothing came. Finally, when she was about to close the book in frustration, his answer came, written slowly and deliberately.

Then I will look forward to that day when you confront me face to face.

That day may be sooner than you think, Teague.

I wouldn’t expect you to be the one speaking tall tales.

Why did it seem like he was flirting with her? She could have sworn he was smiling when he wrote that, but how would she know? How could she so easily visualize him writing in the book, when she couldn’t see him? Or was it because he was connected to the tales as much as she was that they were connected also. Her stomach rolled in displeasure.

Mina.

She didn’t want to play this game anymore and almost stopped writing completely.

What? she finally answered.

I’m sorry.

For what?

For what I’m about to do…but then again…maybe not.

Tags: Chanda Hahn An Unfortunate Fairy Tale Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net