“Yes?” A gruff voice answers. It’s Beast, not Grim. “I’m calling to speak with Grim. It’s Pen.” “Pen?” “Yes, I was at Grim’s club Friday night with the Skins. A deal was made,” I say, unable to hide my disgust. “Ah, that Pen. You caused a lot of shit. Quite the little badass mover, aren’t you? Not to mention full of spunk.” He chuckles, his gruff tone replaced with a warmth that surprises me. “I didn’t cause any shit. I was just dealing with the crap thrown at me,” I reply, feeling more than a little prickly.
