Somethings just have to be

Grant sat under the hard eyes of his host. He absolutely acknowledged that Jim Benson had every reason to hate him, but that didn’t change anything. Sarah, Jim’s wife, was his, and even if he could release her, there was absolutely no inclination to do so. Grant had labored under a crush all of his senior year of high school over Sarah Benson, and now that he had her firmly in his life, he was not going to back down. Not even to her husband.

“You…Claimed my wife?” Jim Benson’s words cut through the air with a decided edge. It was enough to have Brittany shift positions, her hand moving from holding her tactical vest to her utility belt. Not quite hovering near her gun, but close enough that should trouble start she would be able to take quick control of the situation. “You Claimed. MY. WIFE?!” Jim repeated, his voice rising to a level that bordered on a yell that was half hysterical and half rage.

Grant opened his mouth, but whatever it was that he had been about to say as lost as headlights filtered through the window. First one set, and then another, and another. By the time it was all done, six sets of headlights had filtered through the windows. Between the Benson’s Range rover, the squad car that Grant and his girls had come in, and the new arrivals, even the spacious front yard that accompanied the Benson’s home was full.

Grant cast Jim a confused look, and only grew more concerned when his host, however angry he was, only returned a look of his own confusion. Whoever this was, it wasn’t someone that Jim was expecting, and based on the number of vehicles, it wasn’t who Grant was expecting either. Taking a deep breath, Grant sent his girls, except Brittany, into the basement. He took up position behind the couch with his shotgun, with Mr Benson taking a position in the kitchen with a well polished 1911, and Brittany took a position between them the hallway that led to the master bedroom. It seemed a little overkill, at first, until he really thought about the fact that six vehicles, occupied by an unknown number of people, had just pulled up to the house. If it was an attack, hard as it was to think that such things would be happening only four hours after the original texts had been sent out, they would be outnumbered a minimum of two to one.

The sound of keys rattling outside and then the door opened. Taking a breath, Grant steadied the shotgun to cover the doorway until it opened fully. As Sarah Benson walked through the door, she stopped when she saw the shotgun pointed at her chest. The moment lasted just long enough for a murmured “Master?” to escape her lips before Grant was lowering the shotgun.

Once the gun had been put down, the veritable stream of people introduced all around, Sarah took one look at her husband, and went to another room to ‘talk’. The plastered walls were built thick in this housing addition. Brick walls that had a layer of plaster and paint on top to make them a bit more appealing. Those walls could stop fires and debris that was tossed by a tornado. They did absolutely nothing to stop the raised voices between Sarah and Jim Benson. It was clear that both of them were absolutely firmly entrenched in their positions. Jim that his wife had betrayed him when she stuck up for Grant. Grant could, to a degree, understand his position, especially when it became clear that Sarah had known about the Claiming text, and had done everything she could to get Claimed by Grant when she had seen him walk through the doors to the police station.

On the other hand, when it came out that the reason that Sarah had been willing to be Claimed by Grant was that she had known her husband was out of town with a mistress, Grant felt his own feelings change a bit. Sure, she had let a young man she had fantasized about Claim her, but it wasn’t like she had started the open ways of their marriage. Plus, if he had been out of town, it was a reasonable thought that he wouldn’t have quickly gotten home. Or gotten home at all, depending on how far away it was that he had been visiting. Taking the opportunity to get Claimed by a decent man was a level of pragmatism that Grant could understand.

After several heated minutes of arguing, Jim finally stormed out of the house. He had a small suitcase that seemed as if it had been prepacked, or never unpacked, and stormed off. His functional brown loafers, his blue jeans, and his white cardigan sweater somewhat at odds with the fact that he looked ready to kill someone. He glared at Grant as he went by, but whether it was the fact that there were no less than seven police officers nearby, the fact that the anger was only tangentially directed at Grant, or some other reason, Jim never stepped foot in Grant’s direction as he left the house. Instead, he just muttered curses and imprecations under his breath as he left.

Once he was out the door, and the sound of his vehicle driving down the road had finally faded, Grant took a deep breath and sat down on the leather couch. It was a nice home that he had been invited too, and he was glad that there hadn’t been any level of altercation between the homeowners. Well, between the new home owners and Jim. It felt strange to consider the Benson house “home” now, but it was going to be a lot better to start that mental transition now rather than trying to split everything up mentally. It would not only keep things from being too complicated and requiring explanations anytime he said “home”, but it also helped set the understanding that this place, this house, was the new place where they would make their home. Their refuge against the storms that were sure to come as the days rolled on.

Taking a deep breath, Grant studied at the new officers that had shown up with the others. He could tell that they were **** to believe whatever it was that Sarah had told them about coming with her. They were also clearly concerned that Grant would turn out to be some sort of insatiably horny harem builder who would Claim anything in a skirt that moved, shaking it if it didn’t move on its own. With a wry smile, he spoke up for the first time in what felt like hours.

“Well, I’m Grant. I’m not sure if I should say that I’m glad to see you, wonder why you’re here, or just try to get to know you. But, for now, I think it’d be best if we got the supplies in from the cars. At least, I’m assuming that the supply run actually still took place.”

Once assured that all six vehicles that had arrived were stuffed with supplies, Grant nodded and led the way to start unloading the vehicles. At first Grant had thought there would just be food and water, but as they unloaded he also saw basic medical supplies, multivitamins, batteries of various sizes, spices, drinking and rubbing ****, some basic sewing kits, and even a complete set of gardening tools. The supplies were brought not in shopping bags like he had thought, but in wooden chests that Grant had no idea how they had gotten their hands on.

Grant couldn’t but smile as Julie began to organize their unloading process. With Sarah and two of the unclaimed girls acting as a security element, the others began to unload one vehicle after the next. Everything went in that wasn’t bolted down. The spare weapons and ammo from the police cruisers as much as the other supplies. There was no reason to not take those in case someone tried to do a smash and grab on the vehicles, and every reason to bring them in, since they would all be inside anyway. Under Julie’s guidance, it took only a short time before everything was not only inside, but then stored in a semblance of order and organization. When asked how a job in finance had helped her get so organized, she just smiled and stated that financial logistics meant as much inventory control and prediction as anything else. It made a sort of sense to Grant, but he was glad that, in that moment, she was the one handling it, since he was still reeling from the fallout of the day.