Chapter 63

PowerPoints didn't help clear my thoughts when I got home. I held my hand against my re-bandaged neck as the pain lingered. We'd hurt each other today in more ways than one. I didn't want to think about my MP3 player. How many songs were on his list now? A hundred, two-hundred? Too many, that was for sure.

My nosiness went over the line this time. I should've closed that damn book as soon as I saw the handwriting. But those words. The things he wanted to do to me so early on. Wow. What had he written about tonight? Maybe it was too much to know. But it was his private thoughts that I didn't need to be reading. Ignorance was bliss, and right now I wanted to go back to being dumb and happy.

I shook my head and set my laptop down on the couch and went to the kitchen for a glass of wine. I held the merlot in my hands. No, I needed something harder than wine. I opened the fridge and glanced at the bottle of tequila next to the jug of milk. Yeah, that would do.

A knock on my door stopped me mid-pour. I set the tequila bottle down and went back to the living room. Maybe Monroe was done listening already. I opened the door quickly, but it wasn't Monroe. A short man in a tan coat was awkwardly smiling at me as he held out a basket. I took a step back.

"May I help you?" I asked while gripping the door.

"Hi there. Uh, I'm sorry to disturb you, umm, so late at night," Basket Man stammered out. "You must be Renée Davenport, right?"

I looked at him suspiciously, but the pressed smile on his face was genuine.

I nodded slowly. "Umm, and you are?"

"Oh, right! So sorry! My name's Bud… Bud Wurstner. I came over to here to… Uhh… apologize. I mean, not for what I did, but… Well, for what happened a couple of weeks ago." He shook his head quickly as he continued to ramble. "Nick, uh, you know, Nick the Grimm?" he whispered the words. "He came over to discuss my friend's wife… Umm… following you." He looked down solemnly.

His friend's wife must have been Price-Tag Lady. Had Sandra given her my name, too? She hadn't mentioned that part of their conversation. I scowled internally.

"We mean you no harm, really," he looked up with pleading eyes as he continued. "And I'm so sorry it happened. We're all sorry it happened." He held up the basket. "My wife, Phoebe, made this for you. It's cherry. She makes the best cherry pies."

I hesitantly took the basket. "Thank you?" I asked rather than said.

"Nick says that he won't kill us, so since you and Nick, umm, know each other, I hope you feel the same way. We really don't want any trouble, and I promised Nick that this won't be happening again. I promise you, too."

"I'm not going to kill anyone," I replied bleakly. Was I really having this conversation on my porch? I needed that drink now.

"Good, good, good," he said with a smile and clasped his hands together. "Thank you so much. I really mean it." He did a little bow at me as he had a woge into a Beaver.

"Well, thanks for coming by… and for this," I said and held up the basket slightly. "I'd turn the light on so you could see the steps, but my porch light is broken."

"Oh, I can fix that!" he exclaimed as his face brightened. "I'm great at fixing things." He moved toward my porch light before I could say another word. "Well, maybe I can come back this week during the day and I'll have that working for you in no time. It's the least I can do for what happened."

"No, that's not necessary," I replied.

"No, I want to. Really! And if there's anything else I can do, you name it. I mean it, anything!"

"No, you don't need to do anything," I said a bit more curtly than I'd intended. "I'm going to go back inside now. Thank you. Have a good night."

I closed the door and locked it before Bud the Basket Man could say anything else. Glancing down at the pie, I shook my head. I set the basket down on my coffee table and located my phone.

"Burkhardt," said Nick.

"Bud the Eisbiber was just at my door bearing gifts. Do you know anything about that?"

Nick sighed. "Yeah, he left my place a half hour ago. Juliette was right behind me, and I had to figure out something to tell her. So, did you get a blanket, too?"

"No, a cherry pie."

"Hmm… A pie would've been better."

"So, why did he come here?"

Nick told me he'd confronted Bud and his friend about Price-Tag Lady stalking me a few days after I'd called him about the incident. "I guess they wanted to apologize."

"He says he's coming back to fix my porch light. Nick, is this guy safe?"

"Yeah, he's harmless. He mentioned fixing my door sometime, too."

"Okay, but it's just strange having a guy show up with desserts in the middle of the night."

"Well, at least you didn't have to explain it to anyone. Or was Monroe there with you?"

"No, he's at home… listening to music," I sighed.

"Everything okay with you two?"

"Yeah, we're fine. I won't keep you. I just wanted to make sure this guy was who he said he was."

"Yeah, and as far as I can tell he's all right."

"Thanks, Nick. Have a good night."

I looked back at the basket as I hung up the phone. Cherry pie and tequila. Any other time that combination would sound disgusting, but tonight I was gonna make it work.

(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)

The knock on my front door awoke me with a start. Three in the morning. Who the hell was at my door this late at night? If it was another Eisbiber, I was going to have a serious talk with them. I rose slowly and staggered to the living room. I was still a little drunk. Monroe was pacing on my porch through my peephole. I opened the door quickly.

"Monroe?" He moved past me without responding.

"Okay, so I've been up all night listening to this." His eyes were red, but not in the usual way. They were bloodshot and rimmed with tears. He pulled out my MP3 player. "So am I a monster to you?"

"What?" I rubbed my eyes, trying to comprehend. "A monster? Of course not."

Monroe shook his head. "So, there's these songs about taking you down, then there was a song about tearing you apart." He continued to pace inside. "I mean, most of the songs made sense, like, you know, I got the gist. But then mixed in were these lyrics of, like, something altogether… like, evil, dude." His eyes widened. "And then there were rap songs. You actually listen to rap music?"

Holy crap. Were we going to do this tonight?

"Monroe, I download songs when I get feelings," I began. "Sometimes there's one line that hits me. You can't interpret them word for word. Most times it's just feelings I have in passing."

"But, dude… A few songs were all about, like, literally fucking you like a beast or an animal or… well, both." He let out a sigh and the pacing ceased. "I mean, what happened tonight was kinda like… Oh, God. I mean, you can't think that I'm…" His eyes were sorrowful, puppy dog eyes as he turned them toward me.

"Monroe, I don't think that, okay? But perhaps I felt inclined to download a few songs after Kentucky." I looked down at my feet as I tottered to the couch. My face was hot and the knots in my stomach reappeared. This was awful. I wasn't prepared to defend my playlist in the middle of the night and definitely not while I was half asleep and still a bit drunk. All those songs listened to in one sitting? What must he think of me right now?

"But Kentucky was just… Renée, it was a mixture of instinct and lack of control. You know that's not me, well, umm, not the me that I want to be. I mean, I'm sure I didn't give you such a great display of that tonight, but still."

I looked up from the couch as he paced in front of me again.

"So, you don't want to fuck me and claim me?" I boldly asked.

"Okay, now that…" he paused, glaring down at me. "Those words were pent up, amalgamations of, you know, just my nature coming out. That's what journals are for. Now whatever you may or may not have read… It's my way of getting things out."

"What about mating with me? Were those just words, too?" I was being super bold.

"Those damn Grimm books," Monroe growled. "See, there it is again. You said you didn't remember that night after the tequila." He sniffed the air. "Have you been drinking tequila again tonight? And why do I smell cherry pie?"

"Yes, I had a few shots of tequila, and the pie is a long story. And as for your other question, I never said I forgot everything about that night at the trailer."

"I gotta be able to trust what you're telling me."

"And you need to stop leaving things out," I blurted back. "Sorry, but I'm still just a bit drunk."

"Look, I really want to talk about that, but every time I try, something happens. It needs to be said properly, but not here tonight, in…" He looked me over. "Are you wearing flannel?"

I glanced down at my PJs. Crap, he wasn't supposed to see these.

"Umm, yes."

"Okay, well it doesn't need to be said when you're drunk and in flannel." He seemed lost in thought, but then resumed. "Anyway, so what you read and what we did… God, Renée, I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you. And yeah, I kinda jumped some steps and took advantage of the situation in the woods. But you said you were mine, and that… well, that triggered it. Saying you were mine means something to Blutbaden, like, completely unlike anything in human terms. You gave yourself to me, and I was happy to take you."

Take me? Holy hell. What the fuck did I do?

"I didn't know. How could I know?"

"I realize you didn't know, but I couldn't help myself. And maybe that wasn't right, but in the heat of the moment it was." He turned my MP3 player over in his palm a few times. "And with what I've heard tonight on this thing, you seem to want this just as badly as I do."

"Of course I want you. I adore you, Monroe. But in the woods, I-I was just letting go of inhibitions and… I didn't know that meant anything else than words… Than just saying I was yours." I looked up at him. "I want to be yours."

Monroe growled as he ran a hand through his wild, curly hair. "Even you just saying it now… You don't know what that does to me." His eyes flared a deep crimson.

I dropped my hands in my lap. "Well, then explain it so I can understand, Monroe."

Monroe collapsed on the couch beside me. "Blutbaden have instincts, you know? Needs, desires, man. I may be reformed, but some of those inner workings… well, they aren't as, umm... reformable as everything else." He reached for my hand. "And you saw that tonight; those inner workings with you being all tied up, and the red, and you holding your neck out to me. Man, I tried holding back, but then when the blood hit your lip, I couldn't… I just couldn't…" He shook his head. "But back to my point. Blutbaden mate, we have traditions… We have our own ways of doing things. Saying you're mine is like saying… Well, it's like you're giving yourself over, committing to me. It's like the highest form of…" He stopped and shook his head again as it hung down.

I leaned back into the couch. "I don't know all these rules, Monroe."

He huffed out a sigh. "Yeah, well, you aren't going to get them from a book either, lemme tell ya."

I reached for his arm. "Monroe, I invaded your privacy tonight, and I'm so sorry about that."

Monroe moved toward me, kissing my forehead. "I want to trust you, I need to trust you. But you have to trust me, too. And I know I did a poor job of earning that trust tonight, but you still have to. I need you to, Renée."

"You know I trust you." I wanted to, at least. But he was right. Tonight was just… Oh, I just needed to stop thinking about it. "I want to know what I'm getting into, but then I'm afraid of what I might find out. So…"

Monroe smirked. "Then you must not have read too much."

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

I met his eyes. Those sad eyes that no amount of smirking could hide. "Are we okay? Do you forgive me?"

"Yeah, of course." He held my gaze. "Do you forgive me?"

I nodded slowly.

"Just promise you'll leave that book alone. I need to know I have a place I can write my feelings down that's just for me, you know? I'm working on a lot of things right now. That's why I'm going to my meetings and why we aren't off running through the woods anymore." He looked directly at me. "I want us to work out. We can make this work."

"But what if I enjoy the woods, too?" I shook my head. "I know I shouldn't…"

"Oh man…" Monroe reached for his temple. "Yeah, well, that's not safe in the long run. And neither are ropes for that matter," Monroe scoffed.

"Right. I know they aren't safe. But the woods… When we're out there running, it's…" Oh, I was too sleepy and drunk for this. "Even tonight with the rope, before the biting. When you take control. God, that just does something crazy to me. That domination, that Alpha, that…"

Monroe stared hard with his brown eyes tinged red, but I didn't finish my thought. I really didn't have to.

"It's not the only part of me you like, right?"

"No, not at all." I reached for his hands as I kept my eyes on him. "But I can't deny I like it." That was putting it mildly. Dammit, too sleepy and drunk to have this kind of talk with him.

"Yeah, from some of those song choices it's kinda obvious."

"I want us to work, too. But I don't want you to lose yourself because of it. There has to be a balance; a way you can be who you are without being… entirely who you are." A balance of two worlds. The Justice card crept back in my thoughts.

"Maybe we'll get there eventually, but right now it's better if I'm just, you know, a clockmaker."

I nodded slowly. "Okay, Mr. Clockmaker. I understand."

He gave me a half-smile and handed me my MP3 player. "Some of those songs I really liked."

I tried not to blush, but my cheeks burned. "I don't want to hear any more about this playlist," I said while setting the MP3 player on the coffee table. "While it may not be my own words, it's as much a private thing as your book is."

Monroe nodded. "So, now we're even," he grinned.

"Okay, even." I leaned in to kiss him. Monroe wrapped his arms around me. "So are you staying tonight?"

"I don't have a change of clothes, but I could manage. Do you want me to stay after what happened?"

"Yeah. What happened wasn't on purpose, right?"

"God, no! Of course not," Monroe quickly replied as his eyes widened. "Renée, I already told you, it was just a combination of things, and I would never purposefully do anything like that, ever."

"Then stay. It won't be for very long. Six o'clock will be here in a few hours."

"Are you working in the morning?"

"Working from home, but I'm going to go Zen out at Tao tomorrow. I've got to finish my PowerPoints for this week, and I seem to get more accomplished there."

"Too bad. I'm sure we could find some things here to do tomorrow that would Zen you out just fine."

I grinned up at him. "What you have in mind won't get my work done."

"No, but it's quite fun nonetheless," Monroe grinned under his beard. "And, you know, besides, we need to have some nice, gentle make-up sex without any strings attached, if you know what I mean."

A/N: So, a surprise visit from Bud. I imagine Bud's wife in a cute apron, making cakes and pies from sun up to sundown. LOL!

And Monroe got an eye opener of his own on Renée's music choices. Granted the songs weren't mentioned, so I'll add a few here to give you an idea.

NIN's "Closer"
Metalica's "Of Wolf and Man"
She Wants Revenge's "Tear You Apart"
WASP's "Animal"
Kid Rock's "So Hott"

Yeah, poor Monroe... So secrets revealed on both sides, but still no "L" word yet. But after all this, the "L" word would've been a bit strained, I think.

Stopping here today. Hope you're still with me, dear readers. Comments always appreciated. Interested to see if I pushed the envelope too much with this.

We'll be getting back to Grimm story mode in the next few chapters.

STAY TUNED FOR MORE!