Summary: Fleeing from an abusive relationship, Grace St. James goes to the only place she still has a friend: Hell’s Kitchen. She’s forced to live in her car and beg for a job from the law firm Nelson, Murdock, and Page all the while making sure her past doesn’t catch up to her. Enter Matt Murdock: cocky, handsome, and willing to let her live with him for free until she can afford to get a place of her own. Grace is drawn to Matt in a way she’s never been drawn to anyone, causing sparks to fly as they inevitably grow closer and closer.
Summary: Fleeing from an abusive relationship, Grace St. James goes to the only place she still has a friend: Hell’s Kitchen. She’s forced to live in her car and beg for a job from the law firm Nelson, Murdock, and Page all the while making sure her past doesn’t catch up to her. Enter Matt Murdock: cocky, handsome, and willing to let her live with him for free until she can afford to get a place of her own. Grace is drawn to Matt in a way she’s never been drawn to anyone, causing sparks to fly as they inevitably grow closer and closer.
a/n: phew, made it through being sick and the holidays and now I have time to post again! This chapter is...a lot. Literally. It’s over 10k words. I’d say I’m sorry but I’m not! There wasn’t a good place to break it up, and I don’t think anyone would want a cliffhanger where I’d debated ending the chapter, so here you go! A nice, huge chapter!
***This chapter is NSFW. 18+! ***
Series Masterlist
word count: 10,409
She’d been stupid, naive, prone to giving in to his apologies.
She wasn’t that girl anymore.
She took a deep, steadying breath, and finally started working on the paperwork piling up on her desk.
Matt’s POV
The day was over before Matt knew it. He’d been buoyed all day long, his three favorite people in the world surrounding him with laughter and light for the entire day. He hadn’t laughed so hard or so much in…well, a long time.
They managed to all leave at the same time for once, Foggy wordlessly clapping him on the back as they left. Matt knew what his best friend meant with the motion–he was happy for Matt, for Grace.
Karen’s phone chimed as she locked the office door behind them. “Ellison has something.”
“Send it to me,” Matt said immediately.
“Yes sir,” Karen said sarcastically, but her fingers tapped the phone screen anyways.
Matt inserted an earbud to listen to the text Karen had copied and sent to him, frowning as he walked. He was aware of Grace standing next to him, her warmth a steady comfort as she talked to the others.
At the intersection where they usually parted ways, Foggy hesitated for a second after saying goodbye. “Feel free to um…come in late tomorrow,” before he hastily walked away.
Matt could feel Grace’s heart beating more quickly. Her skin temperature rose as she blushed. He loved when she blushed and he unconsciously leaned into the extra warmth.
“Well, if Foggy’s alright with it,” she joked as they crossed the street.
Matt didn’t respond. He was lost in thought. He was already planning on going out as soon as he got back to the apartment. He needed to move quickly if what Ellison had discovered was true.
“Hey, want to stop to eat first?” Grace asked.
“You can pick up something. I’ll meet you at home. I have something to do real quick.” He needed to get home and get to the warehouse now owned by the same security company the men supposedly worked for.
“Are you okay?” she asked softly.
He turned to face her, expression softening into a smile. “Yeah, just thinking about this case. I’ll see you at home.” The lie rolled off of his tongue easily. He hadn’t meant to lie, it simply…happened. He didn’t want her to worry, and he knew he could be there and back before she even went to bed for the night.
Matt went inside the apartment with guilt weighing him down. He would tell Grace the truth when he got back, he decided. It was too late now. He wanted things to work with her, though, so he needed to be open. She’d already blown him away with her easy acceptance of his secret. Why would this be any different?
The guilt worsened as he changed out of his work clothes.
He shouldn’t have lied. He cursed at himself as he pulled on his armor. He really shouldn’t have lied. He’d worked for the past several years to reach a place of trust and honesty with Foggy and Karen, and he’d sabotaged that work with Grace the first chance he’d gotten.
He paused as he started pulling on his boots and mentally berated himself.
He missed the sound of the door unlocking and opening behind him and froze as someone entered the apartment.
Grace’s scent and familiar heartbeat reached him a split second later and he relaxed a bit.
“Oh,” she said, her heart stuttering in her chest. “I…got you food.”
Matt tilted his head, several expressions flickering across his face before he settled on a carefully neutral one. “Thanks. I…have something to take care of.” The guilt worsened, heavy like lead in his veins.
“Oh,” she said again. “What is it?”
“I’m–I–” he stammered. He’d planned on telling her the truth when he got back, but here she was, catching him in the lie. It was somehow so much worse than he’d thought it would be. He braced himself for the blow, for her anger, for her disappointment.
She sighed. “You’re getting pretty familiar with this hook I keep letting you off of,” she told him. “At least eat real quick before you go do…whatever. Ninja flips.”
Matt cracked a small smile. “I’m sorry, I know I said–”
“It’s fine,” she said before he could dig himself even farther into the hole he was making. “Really.”
“You’re lying,” he said softly. He didn’t need to hear her heartbeat to be able to tell. The tone of her voice was enough. Though her heart was evidence enough, too. “It’s not fine. You’re disappointed. I knew this–”
“Matt, of course I’m disappointed. But it’s really okay. I don’t expect you to drop everything for me.” She held out the paper bag with his food. He could smell the grease and breading from one of his favorite fish and chip places. “Besides, you could have just told me you were going out. You didn’t need to lie.”
He muttered something curses darkly to himself as he took the food. He’d brought this on himself. He always did.
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t have to hear what you said to know it was more–”
“Self-flagellating bullshit.” He sighed. “I just–this always gets in the way of my relationships. Every time. And I’m sorry it does, but this is important, and–”
“Matt, I’m disappointed we don’t get to have sex immediately after we eat, not that you’re going out as Daredevil.”
His head snapped up. “What?” He stopped breathing for a second as he parsed her words.
Grace smothered a laugh. “Was I lying? No. Because it’s okay. I know what you do is important, and I won’t stop you or try to make you feel bad about yourself.” He heard a rustle as she shrugged and a crunch as she popped one of the fries in her mouth. “I may have been with an asshole for a really long time, but even I know you can’t just expect a partner to drop everything they do and tailor their schedules to you and your relationship.”
Matt was still frozen in the same position. She…didn’t care that he was going out as Daredevil. And she wasn’t lying about it. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. After a moment, he laughed, a low sound that she felt more than heard. “You are–constantly surprising me.”
“Refreshing, isn’t it? I already told you all of this. Looks like it only took–” She paused. “–roughly eight hours for you to forget it.”
Matt strode forward and kissed her lightly. “Thank you,” he said. “I’m–I’m trying. I swear. And to show you that I’m trying, I’m going to tell you that I’m going after those assholes who came here last night, to try to get some information out of them.”
“They were released?” she asked. He heard a note of fear in her voice. A trace of moisture in the air as her palms began to sweat. Her heart raced.
Matt’s hands traced her jaw, her neck. “I’m not going to be gone long,” he said. “I promise.” He inhaled her scent even as though it was tainted with fear. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” He’d never meant a promise more in his life. He would protect her, no matter what. And what he was about to go do was the first step in that.
She took a deep breath and her heart calmed almost immediately as she breathed. “Sorry, I just–” She shrugged again. Even the sweat on her palms dissipated.
“You’re…weirdly good at that.” Matt listened intently as her body calmed further. He’d noticed her calming herself quickly before.
“I’ve lived with fear for a long time,” she said softly. Anger stirred at her words. Fear of that man that she’d been with. “Now, here. The man behind the counter gave me a funny look when I asked what your order was. He thinks I’m stalking you, probably.”
Matt didn’t comment on what she’d said. All he did was take the bag from her and say, “I won’t be long. I swear. And I’ll try to keep an ear out for anything happening, okay?” He would be on high alert for anything and would do a loop around the neighborhood first, just to make sure nothing suspicious was happening.
“Be careful, please,” she said. Her next words almost knocked him off of his feet. “I still plan to pay you back, you know.”
Matt groaned because he knew exactly what she meant by that. “Stop trying to get me to stay home.”
“I’m trying to get you to come back,” she said.
Matt was quiet for a moment. “I will,” he said earnestly. “Don’t worry about me.”
She kissed him again, and then he was gone, out of the roof door without looking back, slipping the devil’s guise over his face as he went.
–
Despite Grace’s words, guilt plagued Matt as he moved across the city. His gut reaction had been to lie to her about what he was thinking about, about what he was doing, and she’d caught him anyway. He didn’t know how to do this, how to be with someone who knew his secret and accepted it. He still wasn’t entirely convinced that she did accept it.
Matt was convinced that, even though things were starting off well, Grace would eventually come to resent him, to resent his time as Daredevil.
Because he had learned one thing in his years being a vigilante–he didn’t want to stop. He couldn’t. It was as much a part of him as his DNA was. He had come to terms with that fact and it had taken a lot of work to find peace with it.
But God, did he want to do right by Grace. Not just because she’d been with an abusive asshole for years, but because she deserved someone to treat her well. Matt knew he wasn’t up to the job and yet she still wanted to try with him.
The hope that Matt felt overshadowed every other emotion.
Matt’s mind might be a thousand miles away–or, more accurately, about a mile back in his apartment–but his focus was still on those men.
Anger quickly rose on a wave and washed away his thoughts about Grace. Those men had broken into his home to take her. To take her back to her asshole of an ex, the man who had beaten her, the man she was terrified of.
Ellison’s work had been quick and thorough. He’d tracked the security company the men had claimed to be a part of, and had somehow even used his many connections to find out where the men went after being released.
When Matt had gotten the information from Karen, he hadn’t been surprised.
The security company had recently bought the warehouse that Grace had told him about.
No doubt the security company was a shell that Dean Bennett owned.
Matt would dig into all of that later. Getting a paper trail to connect nefarious things to Dean Bennett was a problem for another day.
Right now, he had a score to settle with the men who had broken into his home.
The warehouse was mostly empty. From what he could tell from his perch on the roof closest to the building, they were setting things up to make it look like an actual security company was running it. No wonder it had been empty when he’d first investigated–Dean Bennett was using a legitimate business to cover up his crimes. Or something that was going to look as close to a legitimate business as it could get.
He heard at least six people inside, one of them moaning loudly about being forced to work late. Four of them were the men who’d just been released.
Matt’s blood heated. A calmness washed through him as he straightened from his perch.
He was going to get some answers.
It was easy enough to find the breaker box for the first floor of the warehouse. It wasn’t quite sunset yet so he needed all the darkness he could get. He’d been in a rush to get to the men before they disappeared.
He could hear cursing from most of the men as the warehouse was doused in shadows.
The first man went down quickly and quietly. Matt stashed him in the office, which was now actually being used as an office.
The second man came to investigate. Matt couldn’t believe his luck–out of six men, the first two he took out weren’t from the group who’d broken into his apartment. He pulled the second man’s unconscious body into the office too, divested them of their guns and phones, and stepped back out into the shadows.
He focused on the echos in the building to locate the other four. Two were talking amongst themselves, completely unconcerned. A third was headed his way.
He almost missed the fourth, who had snuck up behind him while he’d been taking care of the first two.
The first gunshot was so close it rang in Matt’s ears. He’d moved right before it had gone off, the whisper of air moving around the barrel alerting him to the man’s presence just in time. His aim was true and his fist connected with the man’s wrist. The gun clattered to the ground.
Matt struck again, quickly, knocking him out as another gunshot rang out from behind him. He ducked and rolled out of the way.
The three remaining men surrounded him.
Anger rose in him again, blinding him momentarily. These men had broken into his home and had been trying to take Grace back to the man who had hurt her for years.
Matt shouted as one of the men got a good hit to his ribs as he whirled and kicked at another. Four down, two to go. He received another blow, to his mouth this time, and he spat blood without losing momentum. He was too angry to feel the pain and simply used it to fuel his anger.
There was only one man left standing, his arm hanging at his side, shoulder dislocated.
“What do you want with Grace St. James?” Matt demanded. He could have gone about it more carefully, but he didn’t want to. It didn’t matter–he wanted word to get out that the devil of Hell’s Kitchen was protecting Grace. Then maybe that asshole Dean Bennett would think twice before trying anything else.
“Who?” the man asked, clearly confused. He wasn’t lying either, wasn’t faking.
Matt paused, fists still raised. “The girl you were sent to kidnap. What did you want with her?”
When the man didn’t answer, Matt hit him. Then he kicked his knees out from under him and grabbed him by the shirt. He leaned in close, letting the guise of the devil stare the man in the eyes. He could scent the man’s fear as clearly as if it were his blood, pouring from his body in waves.
“What were you going to do with the girl?” Matt shook the man.
“I–I don’t know, I swear! We just received an address and a payment. We were supposed to bring her back here and wait for the man to come back! That’s all! He gave us a cover story and bailed us out, I don’t know anything else I swear.”
“Who hired you, then?”
The man coughed and Matt scented blood. A few of the man’s teeth were loose from the blows Matt had delivered.
“I don’t know his name, the payment came from a shell company. He gave us a burner number, that’s all! We don’t care where the money comes from, we just–”
Matt’s fist cut off any more words. He dug through the unconscious man’s pockets and took the cell phone.
Now he had to figure out how to connect it all to Dean Bennett.
Matt went home with disappointment lodged in his chest. He’d hoped for more tangible answers to take back to Grace.
His blood warmed at the thought of Grace waiting for him back at the apartment, at not having to hide. As he leapt over rooftop after rooftop, Matt allowed himself a small smile.
Grace’s POV
True to his word, Matt wasn’t gone long. He was back within two hours. Grace was sitting on the couch, a book in hand that she wasn’t reading, when the rooftop door clicked open.
As soon as she heard it she jumped up. Matt was…limping as he came down the stairs.
“Are you okay?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. He waved a hand at her as he made his slow way down the stairs.
“Fine,” he said gruffly. “Just took a couple of hits.”
“How the fuck did you ever sneak around like this with me living here?” she asked as he toed off his boots at the bottom of the stairs and then let his helmet thunk to the ground. She tried not to ogle him in the Daredevil armor as he moved about the apartment. But God, it was hot.
“I waited until you were asleep,” he said, as if it should be obvious. “And when you caught me a couple of times, I lied. Sleepwalking, insomnia…”
Grace made a face. “Oh. Right. I forgot about that. I was so worried you’d sleepwalk right off the roof, too.”
He grinned at her. “You’re a pretty heavy sleeper, you know,” he said as he fumbled at the back of his neck for something. There was a slight noise, and then he was tugging a zipper down, revealing the muscled expanse of his back.
Grace couldn’t help the little breath that escaped. “Please tell me you’re not wearing underwear under that thing.” Her blood heated even further. She’d had a bit of a crush on Daredevil ever since her first encounter with him, and knowing he was Matt, and knowing what Matt could do with his mouth and his hands…
Matt coughed and laughed. “Sorry to disappoint. It chafes pretty bad without it.”
He turned to face her and she gasped for a different reason. One side of his ribs was bruised. She noticed, too, that the corners of his mouth were bloody.
“Jesus,” she said. “You said you were fine!” Matt tried to brush past her to the kitchen but she caught his arm. He sighed but stopped. She grabbed his jaw and tilted his head to the light, making sure he didn’t have any hidden head wounds or anything. Then she stooped to look more closely at his ribs. “So does ‘fine’ mean you actually got the shit beat out of you? Your ribs might be broken or something, Matt.”
“You should ask Foggy about what I looked like when he found out I was Daredevil,” Matt said in a dry voice. “This is nothing. I would call it a typical night, but it’s actually a lot better than that.” He tilted his head slightly and pressed his hand lightly against his ribs. “Nah, they’re not broken. Just bruised.”
“How can you know for sure?” she asked. “Pain levels?”
“No, I–someone once told me I have x-ray fingers.”
Grace snorted. “Really?”
Matt grabbed her left hand and brushed his thumb across her skin. “I can tell this wrist was broken. It didn’t heal quite right, either. The bones shift against each other more than the ones in your right hand.”
Grace yanked her hand away as if shocked. “A parting gift from my ex.” All of the heat had left her blood at the reminder.
Matt gently took her left hand again and placed a soft kiss right where the fucked up bones were. Her pulse stuttered. He was half-in his Daredevil outfit and treating her as if she was made of glass, something delicate to be taken care of. The contradiction between the two things did something strange to her that she didn’t dislike.
“We’re going to take him down,” Matt said in a quiet voice.
Grace had to glance away from his intense expression. “I’m not so sure it can be done.”
“Don’t say that.”
Grace scoffed. “Matt, the stuff he’s been getting away with, for years…He’s powerful. He has connections. He’s basically untouchable. I mean, those guys already got released–”
“Grace, did you ever hear about a man named Wilson Fisk?” Matt interrupted. His fingers were drawing distracting but soothing circles on her hand.
“Of course. You guys had him locked up, he got out, caused chaos, and then put him away again.” She shrugged. “The FBI was even involved or something. Everyone heard about it.”
“Trust me, I doubt this guy is as powerful as Fisk ever was. And we got rid of him. For good. He’s locked up so tightly he doesn’t see another living person except when they drop off his meals through a flap in the door.” Matt raised his eyebrows. “Do you understand what I’m telling you? It might not be easy, but it can be done.”
She sighed and rubbed her free hand over her eyes. “Okay, okay.”
“And if I can’t get to him as Matt Murdock, then Daredevil might have to make a special trip outside of Hell’s Kitchen.”
“Okay. I’m still not convinced we shouldn’t just send a hitman after him, but…Okay.” She squeezed his shoulder and stepped around him to get an icepack from the freezer. She gently held it to his bruised ribs. Matt’s large hand covered hers. She cocked her head as her words brought back a memory. “Who is Mank Trastle?”
Matt gave a loud, surprised laugh. “Well, do you remember the Punisher?”
Grace’s mind was blank for a long moment. Then it clicked. “Oh. Frank Castle? Wait–Karen’s friends with him? Wait–isn’t he dead?”
“Yes, Frank Castle. And I don’t know if I’d call it a friendship, but they’ve helped each other out. And no…he’s not dead.” Matt’s hand tightened as he gently extricated himself from her and went towards the bedroom. “God, there’s so much you don’t know–”
“Well, I mean…I at least know the basics right?” She trailed after him as he kicked the suit off the rest of the way. She watched his muscles with fascination but her eyes kept snagging on the rapidly darkening bruise on his side. God, he looked good in nothing but his underwear. But she really needed to stop focusing on that. “You’re Daredevil, and a lawyer, and you put Fisk away, and Frank Castle isn’t dead.”
“I also fought ancient ninjas and had a skyscraper dropped on top of me, pretended that I didn’t make it out alive, and tried to kill Fisk before my better nature won out.” Matt’s voice was bitter as he yanked open a drawer and pulled on a pair of sweatpants.
Grace’s eyes snapped from her inspection of his ass to his face. “You–what–a skyscraper?”
Matt sighed tiredly and sat on the edge of the bed. One of his hands dragged across his face. His knuckles were bruised. She was pretty sure it was from the night before. “I…want to preface this by saying I'm not trying to go through the self-flagellation thing. But I always struggled with this…darkness in me. And there was a time that I wanted to give up. To give in and let Matt Murdock disappear. I finally got to a place where I accepted that I want to be both, that I have to be, but that darkness still…it still consumes me sometimes. And I want to be up front about that with you. So you know what you’re getting into.”
Grace sat next to him, their shoulders touching. “Do you know what I was thinking today as I was going through all of those photos, looking for evidence to back up the absolute worst years of my life?”
“What’s that?”
“That that life…it was nothing but shadows with brief flashes of light. And no matter how hard I try to forget it, it’s impossible. That time of darkness is…is a part of me. A part I might always struggle with. There’ll still be times where a certain scent makes me panic, or when a man raises his hand in a particular way that makes me think he’s going to hit me, or times when I wake up thinking I’m back inside those shadows.” She reached out for Matt’s hand. “I’m not saying I know what it’s like to be you, or deal with the kind of darkness you deal with…but I get it, to an extent. My eyes are wide open, Matt.”
He blew out a breath and squeezed her fingers. “I don’t understand,” he finally said, slowly, as if he was choosing his words very carefully, “how I found someone like you.”
“I believe I came into your office and begged for a job.” She bumped his shoulder with her own.
“I mean it,” he said in a low voice. “I already told you, Daredevil has always complicated my relationships in one way or another. I don’t want that with you, but every time I bring it up, you shrug it off.”
“I’m not shrugging it off,” she said. “I accept it. Respect it, even. I kind of even had a crush on Daredevil.” Her face flushed even though she wasn’t exactly embarrassed of the fact.
“That’s not what I meant.” He made a frustrated noise. “I–When Foggy found out, it almost killed him. And me. Our friendship was obliterated, and it took years to get to a good place. Sometimes I can hear in his voice that he still doesn’t understand, that he still doesn’t necessarily like it. And then when I tell you, you immediately just–don’t care. Not that you don’t care, but it’s like it wasn’t a huge deal. And that’s–a lot for me.”
“I always thought Daredevil was kind of hot,” Grace mused. She hated the idea that his longest, most meaningful friendship had barely survived the truth of him being Daredevil. But she took comfort knowing they were in a good spot now, at least. So she joked to lighten the burden for him, if only a little. “This is like a dream come true for me.”
Matt laughed and shook his head. “Joke all you want–it’s a big deal for me, and I just–I–appreciate it. I don’t want to mess this up.”
“So you keep saying. Don’t worry, I’ll let you know if you mess up, just like I hope you let me know if I mess up. That’s what a relationship should be.”
“Is that what this is?” Matt asked, a different note of emotion entering his voice. He turned his head as if to look her in the eyes. “A relationship?”
Grace’s heart fluttered. “I’d like it to be.”
“I would too.”
She reached up and cupped his jaw to tilt his face towards her. She kissed him carefully, aware of the blood she’d seen on his lips earlier. He made a small noise of protest when she pulled away. “As much as I’d really, really like to continue this, your ribs are busted and I don’t want to make it worse.”
Matt sighed. “I’m sorry I didn’t stay earlier.”
“It’s alright, Matt, I promise. We should probably go on a proper date first anyways.” She smiled at him and couldn’t help but press another kiss to his lips.
His thumb traced the line of her jaw. She shivered at the touch. “Mm. You’re right. I’m usually much more of a gentleman than this.”
“Trust me, I’m very okay with you not being a gentleman.” The night after Josie’s flashed through her mind, Matt on his knees painted in red light.
“Is that right?” Matt’s smile turned cocky. She made herself look at the bruise on his side to remind herself why she couldn’t jump him right then and there. Because she really, really wanted to. She even debated, briefly, asking him to put the Daredevil suit back on, then shook the thought away.
“It is. But your ribs are busted, and we didn’t get much sleep last night. And I–want to do this right as much as you do.” She really did–she wanted it all with him. The dates, the getting to know each other, the late nights spent talking about nothing. All that, and more.
He kissed the top of her head. “My ribs aren’t busted. Just bruised.”
She rolled her eyes. “Same difference. One wrong move and they’re broken, and the mood is killed. And I really don’t want to have to be careful.” She shoved the thoughts of what it would be like to lose control with him away from her mind.
Matt chuckled. “I guess you have a point. In that case, I’m going to take a shower.”
Grace couldn’t help the images that flashed through her mind, unconsciously clenching her thighs together. Down girl, she told herself. She was trying not to sleep with him, damn it, but her mind was doing its best to rile her up anyways.
Matt paused, his hand gripping the bathroom door frame so tightly it creaked. His nostrils flared, and she realized that he knew exactly what just went through her mind because of his enhanced senses.
She flopped back on the bed with a groan. “Sorry,” she said, voice muffled from her hands covering her face. Another thought occurred to her. “God, you know every single time I have a sex dream don’t you?” She made a face, wincing.
Matt’s jaw flexed. “Yeah,” he said tightly after a moment. “Yeah, I do. But I swear I try really hard not to notice.”
“God, that’s embarrassing. I swear I’m not a sixteen year old with raging hormones, I just–”
“It’s alright,” he said. He hadn’t moved a muscle. Even worse, he was still only in sweatpants, and the vision of him without his shirt on was really doing a number on her. “I–don’t usually notice so much but I’m so…in tune with you it’s hard not to…notice. Not to…react.” She noticed that his face was flushed, his breathing faster than it had been, that hand still gripping the door frame like a lifeline.
Oh, she thought.
Matt Murdock was really turned on, and was trying to act like he wasn’t.
She bit her lips so hard she tasted blood. Matt still hadn’t moved. Her thighs clenched unconsciously again.
Voice strained, he said, “You’re making it really hard to take things slow, Grace.” His voice was edged in gravel, scraping her skin raw as the words danced up her spine.
Grace stood and walked very slowly towards him. Did she imagine it, or did the wood of the door frame creak as his muscles tensed even more? Matt looked like a man about to snap.
And Grace wanted to make him snap. Wanted him to lose control, like he’d done to her the other night.
There were things she could do that didn’t involve anything near his bruised ribs, after all. She turned the thought over in her mind. There were definitely ways she could pay him back without him having to move a muscle. Things she really wanted to do.
She pressed her palms to Matt’s muscled back. A tremor went through his frame as her hands slid up his spine to his shoulders. His skin was so warm it was almost hot. One of her hands grabbed loosely at the back of his neck while the other trailed down his arm and down to the hand gripping the wall like it was holding him up. Or holding him back.
“I thought you were going to shower, Matt,” she said in a husky voice she barely recognized.
“I was,” he said thickly. She felt him swallow hard. She let her hands explore every inch of his back and shoulders and arms that wasn’t bruised. Another tremor went through him and she heard him exhale shakily. She pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades. She wondered if stuff like this–a lover’s touch–was something his senses amplified even more.
She wanted to find out, but now wasn’t the time.
She gripped his hips lightly, then stepped back and ducked under his arm.
“What are you doing?” he asked, voice so tight she knew he was barely hanging on by a thread.
Grace looked back at him over her shoulder. She pulled her shirt over her head. “If you’re not going to shower, I am.” She turned the shower on so the water would warm up.
She shimmied out of her pants then unhooked her bra. Matt still hadn’t moved. She could hear him breathing heavily behind her. She pretended she didn’t notice the effect she was having on him, even though he could tell how fast her heart was racing, how aroused she already was.
Her underwear were lace again, a nice black pair–not that Matt would know about the color. But she was certain he could hear the difference in material as she very slowly slid those off, too. Matt gasped and she knew she was right. He knew her underwear were sexy, even if he couldn’t see them.
She stepped into the warm spray of water and let out a little sigh. The water really felt nice. She closed her eyes and brushed her hands over her breasts, down her stomach, to her thighs.
When she opened them, she saw Matt through the glass door of the shower. He’d finally let go of the door frame and seemed to be fighting with himself.
Grace touched herself and was rewarded by his head snapping towards her. With a noise of frustration she could hear over the water, Matt stripped off his sweatpants and kicked them to the side. She saw how much he strained against his underwear. Her mouth went dry as he got rid of those, too, and she was finally rewarded with the sight of Matt Murdock entirely naked. His tongue darted out to wet his lips.
In her haste, she hadn’t turned the bathroom light on. Matt was illuminated through the open door from behind by a soft magenta coming through the windows. Grace stared at him, and knew he knew she was staring. His head tilted to the side, hearing what the sight of him did to her, and that goddamn cocky smile spread slowly across his face. Her eyes dipped down and her entire body flushed at the sight of just how aroused he was.
With the edges of his naked body framed in purple, Matt stalked towards her slowly, purposefully.
“I thought you wanted to take things slow,” he said, the words half a growl. He looked almost…predatory. But instead of being afraid, Grace was even more turned on. Her heart was racing so fast she felt a little faint.
“I’m just taking a shower,” she said, but the innocent words were breathless with anticipation. “I never said we were having sex.”
Matt stepped into the water, closer and closer until her back hit the cold tile wall. She bit back a gasp. She glanced up at Matt, water cascading over his hair and face and his deliciously muscled shoulders.
One of his hands moved, and she tensed at the anticipation of his hands on her body.
When he stepped back, she blinked in surprise. Matt squirted some shampoo into his hand and started washing his hair as if nothing was happening, despite the raging hard on he so obviously had.
Grace frowned, then reached for the bar of soap. She lathered up her hands and smoothed them over Matt’s shoulders. He froze again. She said nothing, working her way down across his abs and around to his back, careful to keep just enough space between them that no other part of their bodies touched. She was careful, too, to avoid the bruises on his side. She was determined to make him feel only pleasure, no pain.
He was breathing heavily again, his eyes closing as her soapy hands brushed his hips and down the front of his thighs. She couldn’t help it–her hands slid around to his back and then lower, gripping his ass quickly before letting go. Matt jolted.
“Sorry,” she said breezily. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”
“Is that the only thing?” he asked, still cocky and sure of himself.
In response, she reached out and brushed across his cock. His breath stuttered out of him, a pained noise coming from his throat.
She stepped closer, their bodies pressing together, skin sliding against skin, as her hand grabbed him firmly.
“No,” she murmured. “That’s not the only thing.” Her hand started pumping him as the other continued exploring his muscles. His hand smoothed down her back and grabbed her ass. She nipped a spot on his neck as her hand kept moving very slowly around his length. “I promised I’d pay you back, didn’t I?”
Matt’s mouth opened, but he seemed incapable of speech as her other hand joined the first. His free hand smacked wetly against the wall as his body shuddered.
Grace had never been so turned on, except for maybe when Matt had been on his knees in front of her.
“Last night,” Grace said, then moaned as Matt cupped her breast. “This is what I was imagining. That you had joined me.” He panted, breath hot on her neck before he kissed her there, right where her pulse hammered beneath her skin. “I imagined–Fuck.” He’d lightly pinched her nipple, a jolt of electricity sparking down her entire body. “I imagined that night when we kissed on the counter. I imagined doing that again, but naked. You fucking me there.”
Matt kissed her, mouth open, his tongue demanding. The hand that had been on the wall gripped her neck. She didn’t think someone grabbing her neck could be so fucking hot, but she grew even more turned on.
But she had a plan in mind, first.
Grace pulled away with the kiss with a desperate gasp, extricating herself from Matt, who almost whined. It took all of her willpower, but she managed to step away from him.
He went still as she got to her knees. She looked up at him, blinking water from her eyes. His hand fumbled in the air before it came to rest on her shoulder, like he couldn’t tell where she’d gone. She didn’t think he was breathing.
“You don’t–” he murmured, but his words cut off with a loud moan as her lips wrapped around him. His other hand tangled in her hair. Matt cursed as she moved slowly, her tongue tasting him. God, she never knew that this could be so fucking hot, either. She’d never enjoyed doing this before, but it was almost as good as if he’d been touching her, pleasing her. Her thighs clenched together again and Matt’s hips jerked in response. She choked lightly and he tried to back away, but she gripped his ass with both hands and held him there.
“Grace,” he choked out. “Fuck.”
The way he said her name made her moan around him and his hips jerked again, fucking her mouth like he couldn’t help it. She felt like she could come just from pleasing him. She remembered Matt on his knees, his mouth on her, the desperate noises he’d made. She understood perfectly how much he’d enjoyed it, enjoyed watching her come undone from just his mouth, because that’s how she felt at that moment.
Matt’s movements became quicker, more erratic, and he suddenly half-shoved her away.
His hands lightly cupped her face and he drew her upwards to kiss her roughly. His hands were all over her, like he couldn’t get enough of her, of touching her. The water poured over them, making their skin slip and slide against each other.
He spun her around and pinned her against the wall so quickly she gasped. The tile was freezing against her aching breasts, a delicious contradiction to the heat of Matt as he pressed his chest against her back and sloppily kissed down her neck and across her shoulder. One of his hands kneaded her breast while the other slid down, down, down.
The first brush against her clit made her jerk forward, but Matt’s hand on her chest kept her in place, pressed tightly against him. His cock was pressing against her hip and ass.
A desperate noise fell from her lips as Matt’s fingers slipped into her.
“Fuck,” he said again as he felt exactly how turned on she was. The hand on her breast came up to loosely hold her throat and the sensation sent another bolt of pleasure through her. She’d had no idea she liked that until he did it. And the fact that it was Matt, that she knew without a doubt that he wouldn’t hurt her, made it an even headier sensation.
His fingers worked relentlessly, and she came hard around within minutes. Matt moaned as she clenched around him. She shuddered through the orgasm, stars in her eyes, her body tensing and relaxing as she came down from the high.
She whirled around and went straight back to her knees. Staring up at him, she said hoarsely, “I’m supposed to be paying you back.” Then she took him into her mouth again and set a relentless pace, her tongue moving as she took him deep into her throat, one hand wrapping around the base.
“Grace, I’m–” he tried to say, trying to pull away, but she only took him deeper, faster, and he came with a sharp cry. His hips jerked as she tasted him, almost coming again from just the sounds Matt was making. He was shaking as she used her tongue to keep him clean.
When he finally stilled, she released him with a wet pop and then stood on shaky legs. Matt leaned his forehead against hers, panting as he tried to catch his breath.
“I can’t stay away from you,” he said in a low voice.
“Then don’t,” she said, a challenge. Matt kissed her, lingering against her.
“I mean it,” he said. “No one has ever made me so crazy like you. No one’s made me lose control like you. Not even–”
It’s the way his words cut off that doused her in a cold chill as if the hot water had run out. Matt moved away, just enough, his expression troubled. Grace picked up her shampoo. Might as well finish the shower, she thought, though apprehension curled through her limbs and weighed her down.
“Not even…?” she asked carefully. She made sure to keep her expression light, her heart steady, employing years of techniques she’d used to keep calm in terrifying situations. This wasn’t terrifying though–it was something else, an emotion she wasn’t familiar with. She ducked her head into the water to rinse out the suds.
“Elektra.” Her name was a resigned sigh on Matt’s lips. He reached out before she could condition her hair, taking the bottle from her. Grace closed her eyes as his long fingers worked gently through the tangles. She hummed. The gesture was sweet, intimate, even more so than what they’d just done.
“Ah,” Grace said as he worked the substance into her hair. “She the one who gave you the pink silk pajamas?”
Matt huffed a laugh. One of his hands steadied her shoulder as he guided her head under the water to rinse. “No, though she would have been the one to buy me something expensive like that.”
“What happened between you? Sorry–you just said before…” She bit the corner of her lip. “You said before that Daredevil always came between you and your relationships.”
Matt didn’t say anything. He picked up the bar of soap–someone knowing that she’d been using his scentless soap instead of her own–and started lathering her body. His hands kneaded tight muscles, and she almost moaned at the sensation. It wasn’t sexual, but like him washing her hair, it was intimate.
Right when she assumed he wouldn’t answer the question, Matt said, “She died.”
Grace sucked in a breath. “Oh, Matt. I’m sorry.”
“I–It was complicated. We weren’t…together at that time. But we could have been, if things had been different.” There was a tortured look on Matt’s face. She could see the pain in the tightness in his eyes and at the corners of his mouth. She didn’t want to press but the urge to know was almost overwhelming. It was all over his face, the love he’d had for this woman, the pain he still felt over her death. It was consuming her, this new, unknown emotion, dark and twisted and sharp in her gut.
“I’m sorry,” she said again as the soap washed from her body.
Matt switched off the water and reached out for their towels. “I should probably…tell you about her.”
Grace suddenly had a name for the emotion.
Jealousy.
Matt touched her cheek with the back of his hand. He followed her into the bedroom. Her heart had picked up a bit and she hated that he could hear it. She didn’t want to care so much about a dead ex of Matt’s, but she did.
“Only if you want to,” she said as she pulled out some pajamas. “It’s okay if you don’t want to.”
Matt stood there, bathed in soft blue light from the sign outside, his head tilted to the side, towel slung low on his hips. Listening to her heart. To her lie. The light shifted to a darker blue. Water glistened across his chest.
“You want me to,” he said, and it wasn’t a question or even an accusation. Merely a fact he was stating.
Grace made a frustrated noise. “Stop–eavesdropping,” she said, which earned her half a smile. “Of course I do, but I respect your boundaries.”
“I want to tell you about her,” he said. At the words, something within her eased and settled.
“Then you have to put clothes on first.” He seemed confused, a little wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows. “You’re too distracting,” she said, waving a hand at his body.
Matt chuckled, but went to the dresser and pulled out underwear and a t-shirt. The droplets on his skin darkened the material of his shirt after he tugged it on. “Better?”
“Much better.”
Grace went back into the bathroom to finish her nighttime routine. Matt followed her and leaned against the open door, his arms crossed. She didn’t press, merely waited for him to tell her what he was going to tell her.
“Elektra and I met in college,” Matt said after a couple of minutes. “We met at a fancy party Foggy and I were crashing. I left with her in a car she’d stolen, even though she was the daughter of diplomats and could have bought any car she wanted. She was…chaotic. Full of life. Unafraid. She had a mean streak, a sense of darkness and violence in her that took me a long time to see. I stopped going to class and almost flunked out. Our relationship ended with her taking me to the house of the man who’d ordered the death of my father. She tried to get me to kill him.”
Grace’s breath hissed through her teeth in a sharp inhale. Questions brimmed at the tip of her tongue but she kept silent.
“And when I didn’t give in, she left me.” Matt laughed without humor. “She left me, and it broke me. Foggy was the one who picked up the pieces, really. And then one day she showed up in my apartment here after Karen and I had gone on a date.” Matt rubbed at his hair with one hand, flinging water everywhere. Grace watched him, rapt, leaning back against the bathroom counter. “She tricked me into helping her, into getting involved with the Hand, and doing the one thing I’d sworn never to do–join Stick’s stupid holy war.”
“I’m sorry,” Grace said, unable to help herself. “I just–Stick? The Hand?”
Matt hummed and took a deep breath. “Sorry there’s–so much you don’t know. I don’t want to overwhelm you, but so many of the things that have happened to me, especially since becoming Daredevil, are all tied together. Stick is the blind man who trained me as a kid after I lost my dad. He taught me to fight, to use my abilities, and to do the two together. He actually trained Elektra too, but I didn’t know that until later. The Hand was…remember how I mentioned ancient ninjas? The Hand was this secret, ancient organization that Stick was training me to fight.”
“That is…so you are a ninja?” Grace decided to joke, because maybe that would ease the shadows that were so clear on Matt’s face. He was in pain still, from all of this, from everything that had been done to him. She hadn’t missed that he said this Stick guy had trained him as a kid.
“Something like that.” Matt’s jaw twitched.
“Elektra was a ninja, too?”
“Something like that,” he said again, softer. “Stick showed up in the midst of all of that, convinced that I had to join his cause with Elektra against the Hand. So I gave her a choice. To do things my way, to be with me, to be good, or lose me and fight in Stick’s war and give in to the violence inside herself. Because she–she enjoyed killing, and when I realized that–” He swallowed hard. “I knew she could be better, and she chose me. She and I understood each other, understood the violence that drove us both. And I wanted her to see that she could choose that path–to fight, but to do it in a way that wouldn’t break her. But the Hand–the Hand killed her when we fought them, before we could find out how things could be.”
Grace covered her mouth with one hand. To love like that, and to lose someone you loved, someone who chose you over everything they’d ever known–she could see why Matt said he struggled with that darkness, and still struggled. “What happened to the Hand?” she asked after a moment. “Earlier you said the Hand was.”
“Well,” Matt said slowly. “This is where it gets hard to believe.”
“Harder to believe than an ancient organization of ninjas and you being a blind ninja?” she asked skeptically. “It can’t be much harder to believe than that.”
Matt walked away and sat at the edge of the bed, his elbows on his knees, head bent as if praying. It was her turn to lean in the doorway, watching him lay himself bare to her in a wholly different way.
“The Hand brought Elektra back,” he said so quietly she was sure she’d misheard.
“Back?” she repeated. “Like, they saved her after that fight?”
Matt was shaking his head before she was finished. “No. We buried her. We had a small funeral, Stick and I. And then–I don’t know, they did some kind of ancient ritual or magic or–I don’t know what. But they brought her back somehow, without her memories, turned her into a perfect weapon they called the Black Sky.”
Grace shut her mouth quickly when she realized it was hanging open. “I–You’re right, it’s pretty unbelievable.”
Matt scoffed. “Yeah. It is. I saw it–well, experienced it–and I still couldn’t believe it. I held her as she died, and then, weeks later, she was trying to kill me.”
“But what happened to the Hand? And she–you said she died.” Grace rubbed at her temples. “I’m sorry, it’s just–”
“No, I know how it sounds. Trust me. The Hand built a skyscraper at Midland Circle.”
“Oh,” Grace said as several pieces clicked into place at the name. She remembered seeing the collapse of the building all over the news. It had been sensationalized, although no one had been reported dead. For weeks, there had been debates of terrorism, a coverup, versus what they said had happened, which was a fault line causing the collapse. “Is that…the skyscraper that almost killed you?”
“Mm. Yeah. I’m getting to that part. Long story short, I had the help of some…other people with abilities to fight the Hand throughout all of this. Elektra killed Stick and kidnapped Danny Rand–”
“Danny Rand?” Grace said. “Sorry, I swear I don’t mean to interrupt but–billionaire Danny Rand?”
“Yeah. He’s a ninja too, basically, but there’s more to it that isn’t relevant to this.” Grace blinked at Matt as he spoke, dazed. Danny Rand was also a ninja, which seemed less believable than Matt being a blind ninja. “They took him to Midland Circle, and what they were trying to accomplish was going to obliterate the city. So we went to rescue Danny and to stop them. They planted bombs to collapse the building. We went forty stories below the building to get Danny…and I sent the others out.”
There was another long pause. Grace thought that, even if Matt had sight, he wouldn’t be seeing what was right in front of him. His gaze and mind were far away, down below that building and whatever had happened down there.
“I didn’t expect to make it out alive, but I had to try. Elektra recognized me, and I had to try to appeal to her, get her to see that she could be good. With me. But–” His voice cracked slightly on the word. “The bombs went off, and the building came down. I–somehow, I made it out, but her body was never found. And the Hand…the rest of them were wiped out down there, too.”
Grace sank on to the bed next to him. She hesitantly reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Jesus, Matt,” she breathed. “I’m so sorry for everything you went through.”
Matt bobbed his head in a nod. “Yeah. Me too.”
“I can’t believe–I mean, the woman you loved died twice, a building fell on your head, and–and you’re still living. You aren’t just existing, you’re living. You’re…if not happy, you’re getting there. You…amaze me.” Her gaze was hungry as it roved over him. Matt Murdock was a walking, talking miracle. A man who had faced every kind of darkness, who had faced death, and had come out on top.
“Some days, yeah,” he said. He blinked and seemed to surface from the memory as if coming from deep water. “Foggy and Karen–they’re the ones who got me to see the light again, so to speak. After Fisk was released, we tried and tried to take him down and it didn’t work. And that darkness–the very same darkness that made me want to die in that building–it consumed me. I was going to kill him. Up until the very last moment, I was going to kill him. But I didn’t. And Foggy and Karen–they saw that goodness within me, and they kept me from going down that path.” He swallowed hard again.
Her hand slid down his arm to lace her fingers with his. “I’m so, so glad.”
He tilted his head to face her. “Me too,” he said softly. “Because it all led to you.”
Her breath caught. “It’s–I’m not that special.” The words stuttered out of her as warmth settled in her cheeks. She wasn’t like this Elektra woman, who Matt said had been like him, who had understood him. Grace was just…no one. A girl who’d been dating the wrong guy, who’d ended up in Matt Murdock’s orbit by sheer chance.
“Grace,” Matt said, her name a soft protest. “Do you not remember how this conversation started?”
She blinked. All her mind conjured up was what they’d done in the shower and then his gentle hands washing her as he talked. “I’m sorry, the only thing coming to mind is…inappropriate.”
He flashed her a grin but a hint of the shadows was still there. “I was telling you that no one had ever made me crazy or out of control like you do. Not even Elektra.”
He sounded so earnest–so convicted–as he said it that she wanted to believe him. But a woman like Elektra, a woman he’d tried to save twice, who he said had understood him like no one else had understood him…It was hard to believe that she could come anywhere close in comparison.
“Please tell me what you’re thinking,” Matt finally said. “I can’t stand hearing what your thoughts are doing to your body and not knowing.”
“I’m–I’m just normal, Matt. I’m nothing special. I’m not rich, I’m not a ninja, I’m not some secret badass who understands you on a deep level.” Humiliation washed over her like hot oil. It choked her. It stole her breath. “I just…ended up begging you for a job by chance.”
“Grace.” Her name was almost a prayer. She closed her eyes. She fought the emotion rising within her, because it was so familiar to her–she wasn’t good enough, and she never would be. Matt touched her chin. “You don’t have to be rich or a ninja or a secret badass for me to like you. For you to be special. I’ve learned how kind and good you are, and that’s attractive to me.”
She made a soft noise of protest that was halfway a scoff. “Besides,” she said, ignoring him. “Is it–even a good thing that I make you crazy and out of control?”
He rolled his eyes. “That’s what you’re worried about here?” he said. “I meant that as in…I’m crazy about you. And you make me–want to kiss you every second I’m around you. You make me make bets with you when I’m drunk just so I can touch you.”
A small thrill went through her. “You can touch me whenever you want, Matt,” she said softly. “I just–sorry. I’m new to the relationship thing, believe it or not.”
Matt smirked. “Me too. My last serious girlfriend left me in college because I wouldn’t kill a man, then died, was resurrected, tried to kill me, and died again.”
“Elektra was your last serious girlfriend?” she asked, surprised.
“If you can even count it as serious. I loved her, if that’s what you mean, but our relationship was never…conventional. It wasn’t…healthy. It might have been, if things had worked out, but…Otherwise I had a few dates here and there, one night stands…that’s about it.” He shrugged.
“My only serious relationship was set up by our parents and it turned out he’s an evil bastard, so…” She chewed on the corner of her lip and fiddled with a thread on the sheets. “So is this…serious?”
“If you want it to be.” His voice was so soft, so gentle, she wanted to cry. “But I want it to be.”
“I do, too. But I don’t think this counts as a conventional relationship, either. I mean, we worked together and lived together first. Then there was the whole bet thing…And we haven’t been on a proper date yet.” Grace nudged his knee with hers.
“I think I like it better this way,” he murmured before he kissed her. “I’ve never been friends with a woman before dating, unless you count my two dates with Karen.”
“Matt, I think you’re a whore,” she said around a laugh.
“A whore?” he repeated with raised eyebrows.
“Yeah. I mean, you’ve had one serious relationship, have never been friends with a woman before dating, apparently had a lot of one night stands…You’re a whore.” She laughed again at the expression on his face.
“It does sound kind of bad when you put it like that,” he said.
“I’m kidding, though. It’s just funny to hear you say it like that. We’re a pair, aren’t we? We’ve each had one serious relationship and neither of them were…healthy.” Grace bit back a yawn as she talked. She wanted to stay up with Matt all night. She’d never enjoyed someone’s company so much, even when he was talking about his badass ninja ex-girlfriend.
But of course Matt’s head tilted and he said, “You’re tired. You should sleep.”
He went to stand but she grabbed his wrist. “You might as well start sleeping in the bed, Matt.” At his clear hesitation she hurriedly added, “If you want to.”
“I do, I just–don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“It won’t make me uncomfortable, I promise. Besides, there’s plenty of room.” She stroked a finger across his wrist. She studied him, his tension, and decided to switch tactics. “Please? It makes me feel safer with you next to me.”
It was the truth, and Matt knew it. He immediately softened. “Of course,” he said. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head before rounding the bed and slipping between the sheets.
Grace followed his example with an excited shiver. She felt almost giddy about having him sleep in the bed with her. He wanted their relationship to be serious–something she’d never imagined could be true. And now, here he was, laying beside her like it was the most natural thing in the world.
She curled on her side to face him. She pillowed her head on her hands and studied him openly. “I should have probably asked which side of the bed you sleep on.”
“The middle, actually,” he said with a quirk of his lips. He was on his back, but he rolled onto his side to face her. “So I might end up on top of you.”
Electricity prickled through her at his words. “Trust me, I would have no problem with that.”
His grin flashed in the darkness. “I don’t think I would either.”
“I’m just–used to sleeping on this side, is all. But I can switch, however it makes you most comfortable.”
He reached out and with unerring accuracy brushed a strand of her hair out of her face. “I’m plenty comfortable, don’t worry.” The lines of his face had softened. He was tired too. She’d almost forgotten that earlier he’d been out as Daredevil, fighting, going up against at least one or maybe all of the men who’d broken in.
Grace yawned.
“Sleep, Grace,” Matt said as his hand moved from her hair to stroke the side of her face. The sensation was calming. Her muscles unclenched and her body sank a bit deeper into the mattress.
“Mm.” He gently brushed his fingers across her forehead and over her cheek. The repeated movement was making her more tired. “Goodnight, Matt.”
“Goodnight.”
Within minutes, sleep had claimed her with its long fingers, pulling her under and rocking her on gentle waves.
Summary: Fleeing from an abusive relationship, Grace St. James goes to the only place she still has a friend: Hell’s Kitchen. She’s forced to live in her car and beg for a job from the law firm Nelson, Murdock, and Page all the while making sure her past doesn’t catch up to her. Enter Matt Murdock: cocky, handsome, and willing to let her live with him for free until she can afford to get a place of her own. Grace is drawn to Matt in a way she’s never been drawn to anyone, causing sparks to fly as they inevitably grow closer and closer.
a/n: I’m alive! I’ve had a bit of a cold so I haven’t felt like working on this fic at all tbh. However, this chapter was pretty much done so I just ran it through a round of edits and here we are! This chapter is self indulgent more so than any other chapter before it, and that’s saying a lot. It’s nice and long, and fluffy as hell. So, Merry Christmas I guess!
Series Masterlist
word count: 8730
She fell asleep, feeling warm and utterly safe for the first time in probably her entire life.
Grace knew she was dreaming because Matt Murdock was holding her, one hand in her hair, the other trailing fire up her abdomen and brushing the bottom of her breast. She felt his breath against the back of her neck. He moaned softly as she unconsciously arched against him. She wanted to be closer, wanted her clothes to disappear so she could feel both of his hands everywhere. He was hard against her ass as she pressed backwards again. He’d lost his shirt, and the bare skin of his chest against her back was full of delicious heat. She huffed out a breath as his hand cupped her breast underneath her shirt. His callouses scraped against the sensitive flesh there.
Matt murmured something, causing his lips to brush against the sensitive skin of her neck. His hips bucked lightly against her. Heat was pooling insistently between her legs.
She opened her eyes and realized that she wasn’t dreaming after all.
Matt seemed to realize it at the same moment, because he cursed and rolled away from her. The sudden coldness without him against her was jarring.
“I’m–Shit. I’m sorry, I wasn’t–” His chest heaved. “Grace, I’m so–”
Grace’s mind was having a hard time waking up. Heat was still coiled low in her belly, her muscles aching for release, her breasts heavy with need. As her brain struggled to catch up, all she could think was that she had been so…happy in Matt’s arms.
“Matt,” she said, his name half a groan. She faced him and propped herself on one elbow.
She remembered the night before with sudden clarity. Him protecting her. Him trusting her. Holding her. Keeping her safe.
“Matt,” she said again. Every muscle in his body was tense. His hands were fisted in the sheets and he stared sightlessly upwards. He was utterly still except for his chest, still heaving like he’d been running. Her thighs clenched together as she briefly got distracted by the sight of his abs, the faded scars across his chest. At the tent in the sheets around his waist. Her mouth went dry.
“Matt, listen to me,” she said softly. She reached out and brushed a tentative finger against his taut forearm. He tensed even more, if it was even possible. “Do you…” She cleared her throat softly. Be brave, she told herself firmly. “Do you want to know what I was thinking about in the shower last night?” Her voice was low and husky with desire.
“I really don’t think–” he started, a note of desperation in his voice.
Grace interrupted him. “You, Matt.”
Matt stopped breathing for a second. “Grace…” he said slowly, the single syllable of her name full of tension.
“Just listen for a second.” She hated the note of pleading that crept into her voice, but if she didn’t speak her mind then, she wasn’t sure she ever would. She closed her eyes so she didn’t have to see any thoughts his face might give away. The walls had started to come down between them the night before, and she wanted them all gone. She had trusted him with her darkest secret and he had trusted her with his own, so she wanted, more than anything, to get this one final truth out in the air between them.
So she took a deep breath and made the final plunge. “I like you, Matt. Not just–not because of…what just happened. Because you’re a good man. You make me laugh. You care about this city, about your friends. You saw a girl sleeping in her car and gave up your bed, your home, for her.” She took an unsteady breath. “And God–I fucking want you, Matt. More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. And I think maybe we could–we could see where this goes.”
Matt was completely silent. She finally opened her eyes to make sure he hadn’t snuck out of the bed without her noticing. But he was still in the exact same position, a statue made of living flesh, hands still gripping the sheets like a lifeline, eyes still open and unmoving. She wasn’t sure he was breathing.
“Grace,” Matt said. He sounded strangled. “I–”
Grace’s heart gave a pang. Hot embarrassment crept into her throat, choking her on its way to settle into her cheeks. “God, I’m sorry, I totally–I completely misread this didn’t I? I’m sorry.” She closed her eyes again and flopped onto her back. “Let’s just–forget all of that. This is me…letting you off the hook again.”
She rubbed hands over her tired eyes. Her past two days had been nothing but an emotional–hell, and a physical–rollercoaster.
But at least she had told him the truth. She could let him off the hook for not returning her feelings, and that was fine. Everything was out in the open now, all her big secrets laid at his feet for him to do with them what he would.
There was a rustle. She assumed Matt was escaping from this huge, awkward moment that was only getting worse the longer the silence stretched.
She jolted when his hand wrapped loosely around her wrist. “Grace,” he said in a low voice that she really didn’t want to react to. She shivered anyways. “My past relationships…Daredevil has come between them all.”
Hope blossomed in her, desperate and heavy in her chest like a stone. She opened her eyes and rolled to face him again. “Matt, I don’t care. I’m willing to try.”
Matt sighed. “I–I care about you, Grace. I don’t want to…mess this up.”
Grace’s heart lurched at his words. He cared about her. “Matt, I don’t care. If it gets messed up, it gets messed up. That’s life. People get together and break up all the time. If it gets fucked up, well, I was already planning on trying to find another apartment.”
“You deserve something good, Grace. Not–not someone who runs around at night beating criminals.” Matt pinched the bridge of his nose. Ah, she thought with sudden clarity. There it is. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her. It’s that he thought he wasn’t good enough for her. And that he thought so only made her like him more.
She wished he could see her face, but remembered how he said he could tell if someone was lying with his heightened sense. She hoped it would be enough. “You are good, Matt. You beat criminals, not women, so you’re already a huge step up from the last guy I dated.” She huffed a laugh.
“But–”
“Matt, I swear to god if you say something else like you’re not good for me, or how I don’t deserve you, or some other self-flagellating bullshit, I’m going to hit you.” She pinched his arm lightly. The hope in her chest was spiraling out of control now, filling her so completely she thought she might vibrate off of the bed with the feeling of it.
“Self-flagellating bullshit?” Matt repeated with raised eyebrows.
“I figured that might be the phrase your Catholic brain might recognize,” Grace said. Matt laughed. “I’m so serious, Matt, I will hit you, and I won’t feel bad about it. And I wouldn’t even feel bad about it if you were actually blind.”
Matt groaned. “I am blind. My eyes are, at least.”
She waved a hand. “Semantics.”
Matt finally leaned up on an elbow, mirroring her pose. “Grace, I just want…to do right by you. I already fucked it up once.”
She softened, studying the crease lines on his face from the pillowcase, the stubble on his jaw, his long eyelashes. “If you’re talking about the three orgasms you gave me the other night, that was the farthest thing from a mistake that has ever happened to me. Even if you hated my guts and kicked me out, I would still be very, very happy about those orgasms.”
Matt’s fingers laced with hers. “I don’t hate your guts,” he said softly. “I could never.”
“Then let’s just…give it a shot. Yeah?” Her heart felt too big for her chest and her stomach was in knots. “If you want.”
Matt didn’t say anything. Instead, he lurched forward and kissed her, rolling until she was flat on her back and he was half-laying on top of her. His hands cupped her jaw as he kissed her slowly, tenderly.
She pulled away slightly. “Is that a yes?”
Matt touched his forehead to hers. “Mm. I have to think about it.” But he was smirking, one of his hands tracing circles at her waist. The hope within her exploded and she was suddenly light as air, floating on the feeling.
“You dick,” she said around a laugh. She arched herself into him, seeking friction to ease the tension that was already curling in her gut.
Matt’s mouth was on hers again and this time it wasn’t sweet. It was ravenous. Her hands fumbled for the edge of his sweatpants. He groaned into her mouth as her fingers wrapped around his length and squeezed gently.
His teeth caught her lower lip with a little growl as she let him go. Her nails skated across the bare skin of his back.
“I want to pay you back for each time you made me come,” she murmured into his ear. Her body had a mind of its own, arching into him as she sought any kind of friction she could get. “But right now I want you to fuck me.”
Matt let out a breathy, needy noise that made her toes curl.
Grace thought that every moment between them had led to this.
“I–” Matt paused, head tilted to the side. She wondered if he was listening to her heart trying to race its way out of her chest. She marveled that he could do that, that he could read her so easily. She hoped her body was telling him very, very clearly how much she wanted him. Instead, he said, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
He very carefully extricated himself from her and sat at the edge of the bed. She sat up and frowned. “What?” she asked.
“That cop just got ordered to go ahead and bring us into the station. Guess we slept in too long.” Matt groaned and dug his fingers into his hair.
Sure enough, there was a knock at the door.
Grace cursed colorfully. “I’m going to sue the NYPD for giving me blue balls,” she said venomously.
Matt laughed loudly, head tilting back with the surprise of it. “You and me both.”
She cast one last lingering look at him before padding softly to the door, swiping the blanket from the couch to cover up her silk pajamas and lack of a bra.
“Sorry to bother you, ma’am,” the officer said a bit sheepishly when she opened the door. He was young, probably barely out of training, a patching beard growing on his cheeks.
“Not at all,” she said sweetly. It wasn’t the cop’s fault that she and Matt had the absolute worst timing. “What can I do for you, officer?”
“I think Detective Mahoney was expecting you at the station a little…sooner this morning,” he said. “As soon as you’re ready I’m supposed to drive you down there.”
Grace briefly imagined telling the cop to give them a half an hour so Matt could fuck her senseless before they had to go. Her heart gave a leap at the thought. She wondered what Matt would make of that.
“Yeah, of course. Sorry, we stayed up late last night, obviously. Give us ten minutes.”
The officer flashed her a boyish smile before she closed the door. She leaned against it for a moment then blew out her breath.
When she went back into the bedroom, Matt already had suit pants on and was taking a white button up off of a hanger.
“I should have told him half an hour,” she grumbled as she went to the closet for her own clothes.
Matt’s arm came up and caged her against the wall as he leaned down to her. “I don’t think that poor officer would want to hear the sounds I’m going to get you to make, anyways,” he said in a deep voice that nearly made her come right then and there. He smirked as he inevitably heard what his words did to her breathing and heart rate.
“I will go out there right now and tell him to wait for us outside,” she threatened, but her voice cracked.
Matt kissed her lightly on the lips and stepped back so suddenly she would have fallen if the wall wasn’t already supporting her.
“We’ll finish this later,” he promised with another smirk. She chucked a hanger at him. He caught it without turning, laughing. She had to admit that his easy confidence was hot.
“You’re an asshole,” she said, but there was no force behind the comment. She leaned her head back against the wall for a moment to try and collect herself. Then, with a curse, she got ready to go down to the station to make her statement.
In the back of the young officer’s squad car–Officer Walters, he had politely informed her when she’d asked–Grace shifted uneasily. They weren’t under arrest, but something about being in the back of a cop car made her anxious. She wondered if her involvement with what had happened to Harry Spencer, however minor, would lead to her reliving the experience again sooner rather than later. Except, she thought, that time she would be in handcuffs.
Around the third time she fidgeted in her seat, Matt’s hand came to rest on her knee. He squeezed it gently.
“Should I tell them about who sent those guys?” she asked him in a quiet murmur she hoped Walters didn’t overhear.
“What’d you say?” Walters asked anyway. He seemed oddly cheerful for someone who’d come to guard their door at five o’clock that morning.
“Um–I forgot to grab something to eat on the way out, is all.” She glanced at Matt.
“I think so,” he said in a much more quiet whisper as Walters promised he’d find something for them at the station.
Grace sighed. She tried to imagine what would be better or worse–telling the cops about Dean, who had the power to get out of any kind of legal ramifications, or not telling them and potentially being caught in a lie later when things inevitably blew up in her face.
So, twenty minutes later when Detective Mahoney asked her if she had any idea why four armed men came after her, she told the truth.
When she was done, Mahoney sat back and said, “Shit.”
“Yeah,” she said nervously. Her hands twisted around the coffee cup Walters had brought her. She’d already eaten the donut. He’d winked at her before he’d left. He was a sweet guy, and she was glad she and Matt hadn’t gotten him in trouble by delaying their trip to the station like they’d wanted.
Mahoney leaned his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers under his chin. “I–Armed men, though? That seems a little far-fetched.”
“Do you know who he is?” she asked. Mahoney hesitated, then nodded. “Then it’s not that far-fetched, detective. I…think I might like to place a restraining order against him.” As she said the words, she realized they were true. It wouldn’t do much to actually stop him, but it would slow him down and at the very least back her up if something else happened.
Mahoney pursed his lips. “I think I should go get Mr. Murdock for this.”
He stood and stepped out of the room. Grace took a shaking sip from her coffee.
The door opened after just a minute and Matt stepped through.
“Chair on your left,” Mahoney said as he took a seat across from them. Matt’s hand fumbled for the back of the chair so convincingly that Grace almost laughed.
“I told him I want a restraining order,” she said to Matt, though she assumed he’d already heard. She still had so many questions for him, for what he could do.
Matt sat back in the chair, looking perfectly at ease. “I think that’s a good idea. We’ll help her with the paperwork of course, detective.”
“Are you sure about this?” Mahoney asked her. He studied her face, missing nothing, including the darkening bruise across the side of her face and her split knuckles.
“Very,” she said firmly.
“I’ll be right back, then.”
As soon as the door clicked shut, Matt turned to her.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
Grace rolled her eyes. “I just said I was.”
“I know, but–”
“If anything, it’s something to fall back on if he tries to pull anything else.”
Matt reached over and squeezed her knee. “I agree. We can see about suing, too, for last night’s incident. I overheard a couple officers talking about how those guys claimed to be from a security company and they thought I’d kidnapped you. Which was, naturally, part of my questioning.”
“Seriously?” Grace said with a flare of anger. That prick, she thought. “No wonder Mahoney asked me so many questions about our living arrangement.”
Matt smirked. “Yeah, so I heard.”
Matt’s hand moved from her knee right before the door opened again. His tinted glasses flashed red in the lights as he titled his head back at the sound.
“Here’s some information on filing a restraining order, although I’m sure your…coworkers know how to do that. And some information on…domestic abuse.” Mahoney looked deeply uncomfortable as he handed her a neat little folder.
“Thanks, detective,” she said softly.
“You two are free to go. We’ll reach out if we need anything else.”
“Thanks, Brett,” Matt said. Mahoney nodded at her and left them alone.
“Could you tell how uncomfortable he was?” she asked wryly.
Matt laughed and stood. “Yeah, it was pretty obvious. Let’s get out of here.”
“Please say we can stop for coffee.”
“My thoughts exactly. My treat.” Matt held out his hand to help her up.
“Why, Mr. Murdock, are you flirting with me?” she whispered conspiratorially as they entered the station’s hallway and headed for the front door. Despite the fear from the night before and the shadow of Dean hovering over her, Grace was…happy. Matt liked her back. Somehow, in all of this, something good had happened.
“Am I so transparent?” Matt murmured back. He elbowed her slightly and she couldn’t help but smile.
Grace sighed again as they stepped outside. It was unseasonably warm, summer making a last ditch effort to come back even though it was fully into autumn. “Do you think Foggy and Karen would care if we ditched today?”
“And why would we do that?” Matt asked innocently as he turned a corner. Supposedly she was leading him, but his steps were sure as he led her.
Feeling bold, Grace said, “Because I’m pretty sure I promised to pay you back for making me come three times.”
Matt almost tripped. His mouth opened and closed several times. She couldn’t help but laugh, even as her limbs warmed at the thought.
“Wow, Matt Murdock, speechless?” she teased. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
“You’re cruel,” he said with a choked sounding laugh. “Come on, we’re almost there and it sounds like the line is pretty short.”
“It’s weird how you know that,” she said. Her face was flushed and she knew he could hear her heart fluttering. “And I really, really wasn’t kidding.”
Matt groaned and tightened his grip on her. “I know. Trust me, I know. But if I leave Foggy hanging on this case he might kill me.”
“Rain check, then,” she said as they stepped into a delicious smelling coffee shop.
“Rain check,” Matt said, and the promise was the best thing she’d heard.
A few minutes later, coffees and bagels in hand, they talked and ate as they headed to the office. Grace studied Matt as she finished off her bagel, which was much more satisfying than the donut at the station, no matter how nice the gesture had been.
She smiled warmly at him even though he couldn’t see it. She had never expected, not in a million years, for things to go so…well for her. Even the incident from the night before and the light throb of pain in her face couldn’t take away the happiness she was feeling at that moment.
“What?” Matt asked, head tilted in that way she was just realizing meant he was tuning in to something beyond a normal person’s ability to hear.
“What?” she parroted back, bumping into him as they walked to try and trip him up. He deftly dodged her and kept walking. “Showoff,” she muttered.
“I can tell you’re staring at me, but I can’t tell why,” Matt said. He bumped into her this time. She was proud of herself for not tripping.
“I’m not staring at you,” she said. “I’m smiling at you.”
Matt stopped walking, nearly wrenching her arm that was looped with his. “Smiling at me?” he asked with a frown.
“Yeah, people do that sometimes,” she said teasingly. “Not everyone is mad at you all the time.”
Even though he had his tinted glasses on, she could practically hear him rolling his eyes. “I never said everyone is mad at me all the time.”
“Last night when you told me your secret the first thing you did was accuse me of being mad at you or upset with you.” She pinched his bicep lightly. “That and the Catholic guilt thing makes me think you assume everyone’s mad at you all the time.”
Matt started walking again, pulling her gently along. “Are you ever going to stop bringing up Catholic guilt? Maybe it’s just regular guilt. I do keep a pretty big secret, after all.”
“But it isn’t a secret anymore. And it makes sense why you keep it a secret. Need I remind you that my secret had your apartment broken into last night?”
Matt sighed. “That’s different.”
“Is it?” she asked with genuine curiosity. “Because I don’t think so.”
“It’s just–every time anyone has found out my secret, it’s come between us. Foggy and I stopped working together, Karen and I didn’t make it past two dates. It took a lot for us to come back from that.” Matt’s hand tensed around his cane as he swept it idly back and forth.
“But you did come back from it. You guys are working together, closer than ever. You’re going to be Foggy’s best man, you guys helped support Karen through law school. Plus, you and I weren’t best friends or romantically involved when you told me your secret. Which, I remind you, you told me more out of necessity than anything.”
“Maybe you should be a lawyer,” Matt grumbled, but then he sighed again. “Okay, so Foggy and Karen and I are okay now. But I’m still–I still am who I am. I haven’t stopped and I don’t know if I want to. I don’t want–”
“Matt,” Grace said with a lot more patience than she actually felt. “I don’t care. It would be like–if you were a boxer, or a firefighter, or something else that could get you hurt or killed.”
“It’s illegal,” Matt said dryly.
“So are a lot of things,” Grace said. She pinched his arm a little harder this time, ignoring his protests as she did so. “Matt, I’m telling you. I’m not angry. Do I want you to get hurt? No. But you’re–you’re doing something good. Like I already said, you beat criminals and not helpless women, so I think you get a pass just for that. There are plenty of supposedly good men who are monsters underneath.”
“Maybe I am a monster,” Matt said. His voice was soft, almost thoughtful.
Grace pulled him to a stop. “Matt, seriously. Remember what I said this morning about cutting the self-flagellating bullshit? So you beat the shit out of people. Again, so do boxers. That’s what your dad did for a living, right? Did you think he was a monster?”
Matt made a frustrated noise and went to start walking again. She yanked on his arm with a grunt until he stopped again. Jesus, he was strong, she thought.
“Did you?” she said again.
“No, I didn’t think my dad was a monster, but–”
“If you say that it’s different I swear to god I will punch you. Just listen to me.”
“You’re more violent than I thought,” Matt said. But he mimed zipping his lips after a moment.
Grace crossed her arms and resisted the urge to stomp her foot. “If anything, you beating the shit out of people makes a lot more sense than when your dad did it. Because he did it for money. You do it for the good of the city. Do you hear what I’m saying at all, or is your mind just bouncing the words around so you can start that self-flagellation again once I stop talking? I swear, I have never met someone so–”
She was abruptly cut off with a muffled “mmph” as Matt kissed her.
“What was that for?” she asked a little breathlessly after he pulled away.
“You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met, Grace,” he said, voice thick with emotion.
“Right back at you, Murdock,” she said, but she was smiling so hard her cheeks hurt.
“I just–no one has ever found out what I do and–” He raked a hand through his hair and swallowed hard. “You’ve known me for five minutes and you’re convinced I’m a good man, doing good things, despite what you know about me. About what I do.”
“You are a good man, Matt,” she said softly. She pulled him closer so their foreheads touched. Matt inhaled deeply as if breathing her in. “You can hear when I’m lying, right?” she asked after a moment. Matt nodded his head against hers. “In any of this arguing we’ve just been doing, have I lied?”
Matt grunted. “No,” he finally, grudgingly, said.
“You’re a good man, and I really hope you see that. I’ll never stop saying it until either I get hit by a bus or you like, actually do something bad. Which I doubt you’ll do, by the way.” She kissed him lightly, thrilling in the fact that she could do that now.
“Alright, alright.” Matt hooked his arm through hers again and started walking. Something seemed lighter about him, and a small ball of warmth unfurled in her chest as she realized it. “Let’s get to work. Foggy’s already freaking out.”
“What’d you tell him?” Grace asked curiously.
“I texted him last night to say we’d be late, that something happened that required a visit to the police station. I told him that everything was fine, but I’m sure he’s still worrying.”
Grace frowned. Matt texting required him talking to his phone, which she was certain would have woken her up. “You texted him last night? When?”
“While you were sleeping,” Matt said. “You were pretty passed out.”
Something else shifted in her chest. He’d been awake, holding her, watching over her, even as she’d slept.
“You’re staring again,” Matt said.
“Smiling, Matt,” she said. “Smiling at you.”
Matt said nothing but his lips brushed against her temple.
“Now,” she said with a little clap as their building came into view. “We should fuck with Foggy and Karen.”
Matt laughed. “How so?”
“Well, they don’t know I know about you, for one thing. Or about uh…this morning. And I don’t mean the police station.”
Matt’s arm wrapped around her waist as he pulled her closer. “Right,” he said slowly.
“So I’ll tell them the story I told the cops about Daredevil,” Grace said with a smile. She wiggled her eyebrows even though he couldn’t see it. “The rest–” She waved her hand. “That’ll come to me.”
Matt tilted his head back and laughed. She resisted the urge to kiss him again.
“Which means you have to stop kissing me on the street, Mr. Murdock,” she said. “And holding me like this.”
Matt squeezed her hip but relented and let her go. They put an appropriate amount of space between them, which was already harder than it should have been. She wanted to stay curled up against him and his warmth. She really, really wished they could have stayed in bed all day.
The moment they stepped into the office, Karen and Foggy descended on them.
“What happened?” Foggy asked. Or rather, demanded. He put his hands on his hips in a pose that reminded her so much of Matt that Grace almost smiled.
“Foggy told me you guys had to go make a statement with the police,” Karen added. She crossed her arms too, expression a mix between stern and concerned. “What the hell is going on?”
Grace blew out a hard breath as she shed her jacket and purse at her desk. “You guys will never believe what happened,” she said as Matt went straight to his office.
“That’s what we’re trying to find out!” Foggy said impatiently. “Get back here, Murdock, you’re not off the hook.”
Matt laughed but did as Foggy said.
“Last night some men broke in,” Grace said with a dramatic pause. As expected, Karen gasped and Foggy cursed. “Apparently, my crazy rich ex wants to kidnap me or something. But that’s a different story. You’ll seriously never guess what happened, though, why we’re…you know, here and not kidnapped.”
Foggy’s mouth was hanging open. He quickly snapped it closed. “What?” he asked a bit breathlessly. He and Karen were both wide-eyed. They exchanged a quick look.
Grace had to school her expression so she didn’t laugh. “Daredevil came and saved us. Me and Matt. He came through the roof door, which was unlocked I guess, and beat the shit out of these guys. Well, I mean they got us both good first, but he kicked their asses so quickly and thoroughly–it was crazy.”
She curled her hands into fists so her nails bit into her palms so she wouldn’t laugh.
Karen and Foggy both stared at her, openmouthed, for a long minute. Behind them, Grace could see Matt turn away, his shoulders shaking silently. She quickly looked back at the two people in front of her before Matt made her lose it.
“He–saved you and Matt?” Karen finally said.
“Daredevil?” Foggy repeated. “Guy in the red suit? With the horns?”
“Yes!” Grace said eagerly. “God, you guys probably don’t believe me. Him saving me twice? It’s pretty unbelievable. Tell them, Matt!”
“Yeah, it’s…pretty unbelievable,” Foggy said faintly. He and Karen exchanged another, much longer look.
“I…can’t really believe it either,” Karen said.
“Oh hey,” Grace said, grabbing the paper bag she’d put on her desk. “Matt, you forgot your bagel.”
Without warning, she threw the bag at him as hard as she could. Matt snatched it out of the air with an almost practiced ease. Karen gave a wordless cry and held her hand out a beat too late, as if to catch it for him.
“Thanks,” Matt said, opening the bag and pulling out said bagel with such a casual air that Grace really almost gave in to the urge to laugh. Her stomach muscles were twitching with the effort to hold it in.
“What in the goddamn is going on?!” Foggy half-shouted, throwing his hands up in the air.
Finally, Grace couldn’t hold it back anymore. She doubled over, laughing so hard tears leaked from her eyes. She heard Matt start to chuckle as well. Every time she tried to straighten she only laughed more. She could barely breathe, she was laughing so hard. She didn’t think she’d ever laughed so hard in her entire life.
Foggy was still freaking out, looking very unamused. “I mean it, what is happening? Matt, what–”
“I’m sorry,” Grace choked out. She wiped at her eyes. “I couldn’t help it. Don’t blame Matt, it was my idea.”
“What was your idea?” Karen said. Now she was the one with her hands on her hips. Her lips were trying not to twitch upwards into a smile, though.
“To fuck with you guys.” Grace shrugged, and then giggled again. She glanced at Matt and lightly tapped the desk twice. He smiled in her direction, still laughing softly. “All that stuff happened, I swear. But the part about Daredevil didn’t. Obviously.”
“Uh.” Foggy looked vaguely ill. “Obviously?”
“Come on. The bagel wasn’t enough?” She picked up a pencil and threw it at Matt. He caught it. She threw a pen at him right after the pencil, and he caught that too. “Matt’s the one who beat the shit out of the guys who broke in, and then he told me his secret so we could lie to the cops convincingly. So now there’s a nice, official police report backed by two witnesses that Matt Murdock and Daredevil can in fact exist in the same room together. Separately.” Grace shrugged.
Karen recovered first. “That is…a lot to take in,” she said. “You really told her?” she asked Matt. Her blue eyes flickered between them, missing nothing. Grace wondered if Karen had figured out Matt’s secret herself. It seemed like something she was capable of.
“Yeah,” Matt said, suddenly sober. “I trust her, don’t worry. The police report thing was her idea, actually, to protect me.”
Foggy’s head whipped from her to Matt and back again. “Are you–That’s–What–”
Karen walked to the kitchenette to fix a cup of coffee, quietly shaking her head. She was smiling openly now.
“Foggy, it’s alright,” Matt said, probably sensing the panic brewing in his friend. “She actually took it a hell of a lot better than you did.”
Grace saw the expression on Foggy’s face and hurried to say, “Understandably, of course, since I wasn’t best friends with you for years first.” Foggy’s shoulders relaxed a bit at her words. “Plus, I was keeping my crazy, powerful ex a secret and he had Matt’s apartment broken into, so…I don’t really have any room to talk.”
Foggy pressed his hands to his face. Karen returned, cupping her mug thoughtfully.
“Who’s your ex?” Karen asked.
“Dean Bennett.”
Karen swore impressively. “Wow. That’s–wow.”
“Yeah. The whole reason I came to Hell’s Kitchen and lived in my car and begged you guys for a job. Etcetera.” Grace shrugged, though the memories still stung.
“Okay, first, you’re a terrible person and I hate you,” Foggy said, pointing a threatening finger at Grace. “Second, I’m so glad you finally know! God, that makes things so much easier.” He pumped a fist in the air and held out a hand for a high five. Grace laughed and high fived him. “Third, what are you going to do about this crazy ex who apparently can send armed gunmen after you like it’s no big deal?”
“She wants to file a restraining order,” Matt said. When Grace looked at him, his shoulders and jaw were tense. “I also recommend suing this supposed ‘security company’ he sent after you, if we can find out who they are.”
“I have to tell you guys, though, I’m not sure I can afford you.” Grace laughed but there was a nervous edge to it. “Unfortunately, my job doesn’t pay that well.”
“Nonsense,” Foggy said. “Not about the pay part–sorry about that. I’m pretty sure free legal help is one of our employee benefits.”
“If it isn’t, it is now,” Matt said. He was all business as he added, “First we need to figure out what security company those guys were with, if it exists at all. Or anything that ties them to this guy.”
Karen hurried to her desk and snatched up her cell phone. “I’ll call in a favor with Ellison,” she said as her fingers flew over the keyboard. “He has a lot of contacts at the precinct.”
“I’ll call Brett, too,” Foggy said.
“Ah, I wouldn’t, Fog. He already seems a little…suspicious. I don’t know. Something was off with him,” Matt said with a small frown.
“Brett? Suspicious? Of us? No way.” Sarcasm dripped from Foggy’s voice. “What’s new?”
“Let’s just…see what Ellison comes up with first,” Matt said. Foggy flapped a hand dismissively.
“Who’s Ellison?” Grace chimed in.
“Editor at The Bulletin,” Matt said.
“He’s a friend. I used to work for him and he’s helped me a lot with the big shit in Hell’s Kitchen.” Karen shrugged. Her phone chimed. “That was fast.” She continued typing quickly.
“Where does your ex live?” Foggy asked. “The paperwork for restraining orders changes depending on where.”
While Foggy went to search the paperwork, Karen and Matt started questioning Grace.
“Is there anything you documented from your time with him?” Karen asked softly. Her hand came to rest on Grace’s shoulder. “Pictures? Texts? Police reports? Anything at all could be helpful for this case.”
Grace snorted bitterly. “No, definitely no police reports.” She forced herself to think back several months. It was hard to make her mind go back to that dark place, where she’d been alone and afraid every single day for years. “I…When I left, I texted him that I wanted to break up, while he was at work. When I didn’t answer his calls, he sent me a lot of really angry texts. I screenshotted them all.”
“That’s smart, Grace, really smart,” Matt said in a gentle voice. “Send those to Karen. Is there anything else?”
Grace rubbed at her eyes. “I got rid of my phone so he couldn’t track me, canceled any accounts that I could. But all of my pictures were uploaded to the cloud. There…are probably some pictures of bruises on there. I’m not sure if that’ll hold up in court, though. I can’t prove that they were from him.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Karen said. Grace didn’t miss the ticking of a muscle in Matt’s jaw or the way that his hands flexed several times before he stilled. “Look through them and send me anything you think is relevant.”
“Especially if they’re spread out,” Matt added. His right hand flexed again, like maybe he wanted to hit something. “If we can build a timeline, it helps show it was–” He stopped abruptly.
“It’s okay, Matt,” Grace said. “You can say it. It was abuse.”
Karen wrapped her in a hug. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” she said. “But I’m glad it brought you to us. We’ll help you in any way that we can.”
Grace blinked rapidly to clear the tears forming in her eyes. “Anyone know a good hit man?” She joked to cover up the fact that she was about to cry.
Karen laughed. “I actually–”
“Karen, don’t finish that sentence,” Matt said tiredly.
“Yeah, especially if it rhymes with Mank Trastle!” Foggy shouted from his office.
“Mank…Trastle?” Grace repeated. “What is he talking about?”
“Um. Nothing,” Karen said, too quickly. “Story for another time.”
Grace raised her eyebrows but decided to let it drop. She wouldn’t forget that phrase, though, and she definitely planned to ask about it.
They broke apart to finally start on their tasks, Grace insisting that they all needed to work on their other cases, at least while she looked through her photos and compiled anything helpful to send to Karen.
She booted up the computer and opened up a private browser. She knew that it wouldn’t keep Dean from finding her–he already knew where she was living–but it made her feel better all the same. She had no idea if he knew her passwords or could pay someone to hack her information. At this point, after he’d sent literal armed men after her, she wouldn’t put anything past him.
Grace sat for at least ten minutes staring blankly at the screen. She didn’t want to dig back into that life. She’d left it behind for a reason. She had something good going here, and she wanted, more than anything, to forget anything that had come before. She had a job she really was starting to love, she had friends, and she had something new with a man that made her feel safe. Her old life was a brief shadow in this new world of light.
But that life had caught up with her, whether she liked it or not.
With a small growl, Grace logged into her account with angry keystrokes. She needed to remember why she’d left, and how. She’d been angry when she’d left. She’d been fed up. It was the same reason she’d taken self defense classes for two years straight. She didn’t want to be helpless.
“Everything okay?” Matt’s voice made her jump.
“Yeah, just–logging in.”
Matt’s eyebrows rose. He wasn’t wearing his glasses anymore. “That so? With growling and angry typing?”
Grace huffed a laugh. “Yeah. I was just–feeling sorry for myself. Then I remembered that he’s an asshole and I want to punch him in the face.”
“Mm. Yeah. I know the feeling.” There was that little tick in his jaw again. She’d noticed it before but now she was beginning to learn that it was a sign of his anger, despite how calm he appeared. “I was just…picking up those papers you had printed for me.”
Grace glanced around. Karen was on the phone, her door closed, and Foggy looked so deep into paperwork she was almost certain he couldn’t hear anything.
“Are you sure you didn’t come over to flirt with me?” she teased softly.
Matt gave her a warm smile. “Well, not quite. I was coming to ask you to lunch.”
“First coffee, now lunch? You work fast, Murdock.” She wondered if he’d be able to tell if she winked. “Can you tell if I wink at you?”
“Why, is that what you’re doing?” He was still smiling. The shadows of her former life seemed to melt away in the radiance and warmth of that smile. Matt placed both hands on her desk and leaned forward. Her body reacted almost instantly, even before he said his next words. “I won’t work fast later, sweetheart,” he murmured, his tone betraying exactly what he meant by later.
A small gasp of air slipped from her lips. Her heart thundered in her chest and heat coiled low in her belly.
“Let me ask my boss if I can take a half day,” she said. The words were almost pleading.
Matt tapped her desk twice. “Sorry, too much work to do.”
He put his hands in his pockets and strolled casually back to his desk.
“Asshole,” she muttered, knowing full well he could hear her. “And you forgot your papers.”
She heard his soft laugh from his office.
She had a sudden idea. In a whisper under her breath, she said, “Are we keeping this a secret from them?” She watched Matt cock his head from his seat at his desk. Then he shrugged. “Do you want to?” He shook his head. “What do you think would be funnier–kissing in front of them like it’s no big deal, or making some sort of sexual comment?” Matt choked and coughed. “Because it was kind of fun fucking with them earlier.”
“Talking to yourself?” Foggy said cheerfully from his office doorway. “Looks like you are becoming one of us.”
Grace tried to keep her face neutral. “Yeah, apparently crazy is catching.”
Foggy laughed. “Yes it is. I was one hundred percent sane until my college roommate walked in and ruined that for me.”
“Hey,” said Matt. He leaned on the door jamb. His sleeves were rolled up now. “I’m pretty sure I was sane until I met you, Fog.”
“Maybe we were both sane until Karen corrupted us,” Foggy said.
“No, you two definitely fucked me up,” Karen said. “Hey, do you have those notes? On the building codes?”
“Right.” Foggy sighed and rubbed at his eyes. “Remind me why we took such a big case again?”
“To keep the lights on,” Karen said as Foggy passed her a stack of papers.
Grace grabbed the stack Matt had supposedly been after. They had a handy printer that transcribed everything to braille for him.
“Speaking of paperwork,” she said as she held out the papers. Matt tilted his head. She eyed the long column of his throat, imagining pressing kisses to the spot where his pulse beat beneath his skin.
Matt took the papers, tossed them unceremoniously on his desk, and then grabbed her wrist and yanked her closer. She stumbled and fell flush against him. Her mind went utterly blank in surprise.
Matt kissed her. He caged her in with his arms, the doorjamb digging against her spine. He tasted like coffee and something wholly Matt. She fisted her hands in his shirt to hold him close. But as quickly as it had happened, the kiss was over. Matt was grinning cockily at her in a way that had her stomach doing flips.
She blinked, completely dazed.
“Thanks for transcribing that stuff for me,” he said, voice completely normal like he hadn’t just made out with her in front of–Oh. Oh.
Grace smiled at him as she realized what he was doing. “No problem,” she said, proud of how normal her voice sounded despite the chaos inside her body and mind.
She went back to her desk like nothing happened.
Karen and Foggy looked twice as shocked as they had at her Daredevil story.
Finally, Karen smacked Foggy in the chest with the papers he’d handed her. “I told you.” She grinned at Grace, who couldn’t help but grin back. She felt a bit…giddy. Her mind raced with all kinds of delightful scenarios of her and Matt alone in the office, his tie on the floor, his desk underneath them. She tried unsuccessfully to shove them from her mind.
“I–Is–You guys are going to give me a heart attack!” Foggy threw his hands up in the air. “I don’t think I can take anything else! Please, stop. Seriously. Stop. I’m on the edge of a nervous breakdown here!”
Matt laughed, long and loud. “This is payback for all the shit you’ve pulled on me, Foggy. Though it was all Grace’s idea.”
Foggy gaped at her. “You–You evil woman. I’m sending you a bill for my cardiologist. Or therapist.”
“Sure, but remember I don’t get paid much.” She winked at Foggy.
He stared at her and Matt in turn for several moments. A slow smile spread across his face. “God, I knew it. I knew it. Especially after–Nevermind, doesn’t matter. You two are dating now? Is this really happening?”
“Dating?” Grace said, unable to help herself. “I thought that’s how Matt thanked everyone.”
“Well he doesn’t kiss me like that,” Foggy said, and they all laughed. “Needs more tongue, Murdock!” he called as he went back to his office. He muttered something else that made Matt laugh again.
Grace’s phone chimed with a text from Karen. What the hell happened last night after those guys broke in??
She glanced up at the blonde who raised her eyebrows and quickly typed something. This is the best way to keep Matt from eavesdropping, she said. Foggy and I talk about him all the time via text, because he can’t see or hear it.
Grace pressed her lips together against a smile. Nothing happened last night. But this morning I definitely debated suing the NYPD for giving me blue balls.
Karen snorted loudly in her office. Her response was instant. And you guys are…dating? FWB? What? I mean I know it’s not my business but…
Grace glanced up at Matt, who looked like the very picture of innocence as his fingers flew across his papers as he read. I think dating. I don’t know. I’ve been calling him out on what I’ve been calling his self-flagellating bullshit.
Karen coughed to cover up another laugh. That’s a great way to put it. He does it a lot.
Too much, Grace sent back. So I’ve been distracting him.
Karen’s eyebrows almost disappeared into her hairline. I’m not going to ask.
Grace glanced at the clock before she typed another message. When do you get your results back for the bar exam?
Two weeks. I don’t think it’s a secret though.
I don’t know about you but I don’t think Matt needs to hear every conversation we ever have. Grace tapped her fingers on her desk, realizing all of her pictures were still pulled up. She was probably procrastinating looking through them by talking to Karen.
Why do you think we went to lunch a few blocks away after our night at Josie’s? I know how to keep secrets. When Grace glanced up, Karen flashed her a smile.
Grace set her phone down and sighed with another look at the computer. She scrolled through them, starting with three years ago. That had been the first time he’d hit her. She glanced idly at the photos, shutting her brain off, not letting herself get sucked into any of the memories that accompanied the many photos. Every time she found a hint of a bruise, she attached it to an email draft to Karen. She numbered the pictures, added dates, and a short description of the incident and where you could see a hint of a bruise–if not a full bruise–in the picture.
She got to last year’s photos and realized the office was quiet. She looked around with bleary eyes. The other three were gathered around takeout containers. She hadn’t realized it was lunch time, or that anyone had gone to get food.
Matt walked over to her and held out a wrapped sandwich. “Sorry, our plans kind of got derailed,” he said, leaning a hip against her desk. “Rain check?”
“I’m really beginning to hate that phrase,” Grace said darkly as she unwrapped her sandwich. “How’d you–right. Superpowers.”
Matt crossed his arms. “I don’t need superpowers to know what your order is, Grace. I’m just observant.”
There was that warmth again, deep in her chest. “Thanks, Matt,” she said softly.
“Get your ass in here, Murdock! Some of us are trying to get some work done!” Foggy shouted from his office. Matt tapped her desk twice and rolled his eyes, but took his food into Foggy’s office.
Grace ate while staring at her desk, letting the sounds of the others working and joking wash over her.
When she was done, she dove back into the photos.
The last year had been the worst. She’d had a broken wrist from where he’d pinned her against the wall so hard it had snapped a bone. She’d had bruises on her collarbone, too, but only the cast was visible in the photos.
That had been the first time she’d been truly afraid for her life.
He hadn’t struck again until months later, when her wrist was healed and her cast was off. That was when her ribs had been bruised. Maybe fractured, but she’d never gone to get it checked out. That was the first time she’d taken a picture of the damage. She’d let it upload to the cloud, then deleted all traces of it from her phone.
That was also when he’d started checking her phone regularly. She didn’t know if it’s because he was getting meaner and more paranoid, or if he’d somehow found out about her desire to start keeping track of all of the ways he’d hurt her. She added a note about that in her email, too, that she’d had to take the passcode off of her phone and let him approve all social media posts.
It took her much, much longer to get through those last pictures. The woman in them had a deadness in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. A desperation. She’d lost weight then, too, which he’d assumed was for his benefit.
Grace finally finished and sent the email. She rested her head in her hands. They shook with anger.
He was a bastard. The worst kind of bastard. She should have known his business wasn’t all aboveboard, too, just based on how he treated her.
She’d been stupid, naive, prone to giving in to his apologies.
She wasn’t that girl anymore.
She took a deep, steadying breath, and finally started working on the paperwork piling up on her desk.
Summary: Fleeing from an abusive relationship, Grace St. James goes to the only place she still has a friend: Hell’s Kitchen. She’s forced to live in her car and beg for a job from the law firm Nelson, Murdock, and Page all the while making sure her past doesn’t catch up to her. Enter Matt Murdock: cocky, handsome, and willing to let her live with him for free until she can afford to get a place of her own. Grace is drawn to Matt in a way she’s never been drawn to anyone, causing sparks to fly as they inevitably grow closer and closer.
a/n: finally managed to get the next chapter uploaded! At least I always make up for delays with extra long chapters, right? Anyway, I love this one, I won’t lie. I mean I know that I say that about most of them, but it’s true. I highly recommend writing the most self-indulgent fic you can tbh.
P.S. Thanks as usual for all the love on this fic--it means a lot to see people enjoying something as much as I am!
***this chapter has NSFW themes***
Series Masterlist
word count: 8345
Within minutes, sleep had claimed her with its long fingers, pulling her under and rocking her on gentle waves.
The building was burning. There was a deep rumble underneath her feet. Grace couldn’t see anything, but she could hear echoes all around her, and knew she was underneath the skyscraper that had once been Midland Circle.
The ground rumbled again, harder this time, and she tripped.
She had to find–something. Someone. Her heart trembled with fear. Her breaths came in harsh, panicked pants as she hurried blindly through the darkness. Slowly, the tunnel around her illuminated. She half-turned and saw a wave of fire coming towards her in slow motion.
Hurry. She had to hurry. Urgency sent her running faster and faster even as the ground split beneath her feet.
The ground shook beneath her and a huge boom threw her off of her feet. She hit the rocky ground hard.
No. She still had time. She crawled forward on hands and knees. It was as if the air had turned solid around her. She had to fight for every inch of ground gained. All the while, that wall of flame grew closer and closer. Her fingers and knees were bleeding as she dragged herself over the split asphalt beneath her.
She rounded a corner, arms shaking with fatigue, and there he was.
Matt, dressed as Daredevil, a faceless woman dead at his feet. Grace called out for him, his name a desperate plea, but another explosion swallowed the sound whole.
No. No. It wasn’t too late, it–
The wall of flame parted around her.
Matt looked up, his head tilted.
“Grace?” he said. It sounded like he was right next to her, his voice in her ear.
Chunks of concrete and flame started to fall.
Another explosion and then–
The building came down on top of him. There was a flash of red as the rubble and fire came crashing down where Matt had been standing.
She heard her name again. She could still save him. She knew she could. She sobbed out his name as her bloodied fingertips struggled for purchase.
The air released her, and she was able to rush towards the remains of the building and start digging. Pain ripped across her fingers and palms as she dug. Pieces of concrete and glass shredded her skin while remnants of the flame that had been chasing her burned her body.
A piece of rock fell away, and Matt’s eyes stared sightlessly upward.
No longer blind, but dead.
“Grace!” Matt half-shouted.
She jerked away with a cry.
“Grace?” Matt said. Dawn was breaking outside the windows, the sign across the street long turned off. She felt his fingers on her arms, in her hair, searching her for signs of injury.
“Matt,” she said, and it turned into a sob. She opened her eyes, and there he was. He was fine. He was alive. He was bathed in grayscale from the rising dawn, the air washed of all color, all life. Matt’s hair was mussed and she’d never seen someone look so beautiful.
Matt yanked her into the warmth of his chest, stroking her hair as she cried.
He had almost died, and it was haunting her even though he had survived. She hadn’t been there, but the dream–It had been so real. Grace cried harder because that terrible thing in her dream had actually happened to him, yet here he was comforting her.
“It was just a dream, sweetheart,” he murmured into her hair. His voice was low and rough as gravel with sleep.
Instinct kicked in and Grace forced herself to stop crying. Dean had hated her tears. At first he would be sympathetic, but if she didn’t stop within a minute, he gave her a reason to cry. Every time. Without fail.
She’d never been so upset after dreaming about Dean dying. Those had usually been good dreams, but this–this had been a nightmare.
“How do you do that?” Matt asked, a note of wonder in his voice. “Just–stop like that?”
Grace wriggled her arms between their chests so she could wipe her eyes. Her breath still hitched a little, and that terrible grief was still a yawning void within her, but she wasn’t crying anymore. Every bit of Matt’s warmth, every beat of his heart against her was a comfort that eased the pain.
“Dean used to hate when I cried,” she said. Disgust crept into her tone. “He would always be so–so sweet at first, kissing me, telling me it was okay, holding me. But the longer I cried, the more angry he would get. And he always gave me something to cry about if I didn’t stop when he said.”
Matt’s arms tightened around her almost painfully. She could feel his heart thundering in his chest. That little muscle in his jaw ticked. “Grace–” he said and his voice was taut with pain. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “That man is the worst kind of bastard, and one day I’m going to make him pay for everything he did to you.”
If Dean had said something like that, she would have been repulsed. Angry even.
But coming from Matt, knowing he was saying it from his heart because he cared, it was exactly what she wanted to hear.
Something within her hardened. “Not if I make him pay first.”
Matt’s lips ghosted across her temple. “You can cry as much and as long as you like around me. I can’t promise it won’t freak me out, but–” He laughed but it was humorless.
Grace almost cried simply hearing those words. “I know,” she said softly. She wrapped an arm around him so she could hold him even closer. The apartment around them was cold, but Matt was so warm it was making her sleepy again.
Matt’s hands rubbed her back in soothing circles. She let her eyes drift closed even though she wasn’t quite ready to sleep. She wiggled closer and tucked her face into his neck. He flinched at the touch of her cold nose but only gripped her tighter when she went to move away. She smiled against his skin.
“What did you dream about?” he asked after a long silence.
“It was nothing,” she said, the words punctuated by a yawn.
“Was it about…him? Dean?” She could feel his muscles tense at the name.
“No, it wasn’t about Dean.” She yawned again. “It was nothing.”
“You’re lying,” he said but it wasn’t accusatory. “You don’t have to tell me about it though. Only if you want to.”
“Do you ever have nightmares?” she asked instead.
“Mm. Yeah, sometimes.”
“Do you ever…dream about what happened to you? At Midland Circle?” A memory of dream-Matt’s dead face flashed through her mind.
Matt tensed all over again but still didn’t let her go. “Sometimes,” he said tightly.
It was Grace’s turn to hold him against her. She tried to ground herself in his warmth and the steady beat of his heart, but her mind wasn’t giving the dream up. It had been so real. It felt more like a memory than a dream, like she’d really been there.
“Why are you crying?” Matt asked so softly it almost broke her. He started stroking her hair again.
“Because–” She had to bite back a small sob. “Because I dreamt about it, and it was so awful that–I can’t imagine living it and–” She held him so tightly he went tense again. “Shit, your ribs–” But Matt didn’t let her extricate herself.
“You–you dreamt about Midland Circle?” His voice sounded almost awed.
She nodded wordlessly. She couldn’t stop the tears if she tried. The dream was lingering with its sharp claws caught in her mind.
“What about Midland Circle?” He kissed her temple again and shifted slightly, likely so she’d stop digging into his bruised ribs.
“I–Fuck.” She maneuvered so she could wipe her eyes again and wipe the tears from Matt’s bare chest and neck. She made a face.
“You dreamt it fell on you?” he asked softly. She could see something akin to pity in his expression.
“No, Matt,” she said as more tears fell. “I dreamt about it falling on you.”
“Wh–” He stopped, swallowed. “I survived, Grace. I made it out.”
She sobbed. “Not in my dream,” she managed to choke out.
And then Matt was kissing her. Her lips, her nose, her cheeks, all over her face. Something about it made her giggle through the tears. He smiled against her skin.
“I’m right here, Grace,” he finally said. He kissed her again. “I’m right here.”
“I know, I just–” There those instincts went again, drying up her tears even though she knew she was safe, knew she could keep crying if she wanted. “Sorry, I know it’s stupid.”
“You are…a remarkable woman,” he said with a little laugh of disbelief. “You didn’t even know me then.”
“But I know you now,” she said stubbornly. “I hate that you went through that at all.”
“No skyscrapers are collapsing on me now,” Matt said with an eyebrow quirked. But there was still a lingering softness in his face.
“I know, that’s why I said it was stupid.” She wanted to cross her arms but he was still holding her close.
Matt shook his head and laughed again. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Grace,” he said. “You want to know why I like you? That’s why. I tell you a story about something that happened to me a long time ago, and you’re so worried about it that it gives you nightmares.”
She frowned. “That makes me sound crazy.”
“No, no. That’s not what I meant.” He rested his forehead against hers. “I wouldn’t have you any other way.”
She hummed. “I’m sorry I woke you,” she said.
“Don’t apologize. Not for that.”
“Sorry,” she said, then winced. “I just–Dean always–”
Matt’s expression darkened. “Dean made you feel bad for being a normal human being. I won’t ever do that, Grace. Ever.”
She bit her lip. “I know,” she said. “But some habits are hard to break.”
Matt’s voice lowered even further as he said, “I will help you break each and every one of those habits. I promise.”
Her breathing hitched again. She snuggled closer to him. Her head fit so perfectly into his neck as he held her that it almost made her believe in silly things like fate. She and Dean had never fit, not like she and Matt did.
“I feel safe with you,” she murmured into that safe bubble of darkness, tucked against him. “More than I ever have before.”
She was asleep before she knew it. There were no more nightmares.
–
When Grace finally woke again, Matt was gone. She blinked sleepily in the bright apartment. She stretched and rolled over for her phone. There was a single text from Matt that said, Be right back.
She smiled.
It was Saturday, so she had nowhere to be. Until now, on weekends she would leave the apartment for a while to try and give Matt some privacy. But now all she wanted to do was wait for him to get back. She shivered with pleasure at the thought of him actually coming home to her, for her.
She scrolled through her phone as her mind slowly tried to wake.
Of her own accord, her fingers brought up a search engine and typed Elektra diplomat daughter death.
There were no headlines about any deaths, but the first result was a profile from several years before on Elektra Natchios, who in the description was listed as the daughter of high-profile diplomats.
Grace clicked the link, and there she was.
Something in her gut knew this was the woman Matt had loved. Of course, there weren’t many women named Elektra who were rich and the daughter of diplomats. But something in the way the woman in this picture smiled made Grace absolutely certain she was the right one.
Grace typed in Elektra Natchios and was rewarded with hundreds of pictures of the woman. Paparazzi pictures, profiles, social media posts, pictures from fancy events and red carpets. Elektra had been rich and had loved flaunting it.
No one seemed to know she was dead, though there was some deliberation about her having disappeared from the public eye.
The more pictures Grace saw, the sicker she felt. She sat up in the bed so she could force herself to put the phone away, but ended up sitting on the edge of the mattress scrolling through even more.
Finally she tossed the phone to the side and rested her head in her hands.
Dean’s voice whispered across her mind. You think you’ll ever be good enough? You’re lucky to have a man like me. A girl like you isn’t going places. I’m just telling you the truth here. Without me, you’re nothing.
Grace’s chest tightened painfully. She dug her fingers into her hair, into her scalp, trying to ground herself.
Because really, how could she compare to a woman like Elektra? Matt might be blind but knowing what Elektra looked like–and, to a point, even Karen–Grace felt so inadequate she almost laughed. Elektra had been rich, powerful, and a fighter like Matt. He’d said himself that she had understood the darkness within him like no one else ever had.
You have nothing, Dean whispered in her mind. A useless degree you only got to be near me. And now, without me, you have no money and nowhere to go. And for what? A man who loved the kind of woman you could never be. Not even close.
Grace gasped and slid to the floor. She curled her arms over her head and drew her knees to her chest.
She did have nothing. The only reason she had a place to live was because of the goodness of one man’s heart. The same man who was the only reason she had a job at all.
Grace had never seen what her future could look like, because it had always been simple: be Dean’s wife. Have Dean’s kids. Maybe help her mom one day, but probably only stay and belong to Dean.
Grace didn’t even know what she wanted to be, because college had only been one step in the path Dean had laid out for her. She’d gotten a degree because Dean had said it would look good to have a wife with a degree, at the same fancy school he had gone to, using the same money Dean had used. She hadn’t gotten into college on her own merit because she couldn’t. Dean had used his money and his connections.
She didn’t want to go back to Dean, ever, but she had nothing else.
Grace couldn’t breathe. She grabbed at her hair again but she couldn’t feel it. She was dizzy even though she was curled up on the floor.
The future spread out dark and empty and hopeless before her. She wasn’t that smart, she didn’t have money, and she didn’t have connections.
She had nothing.
Something touched her arm.
She gave a startled cry and scrambled away on all fours so quickly her tailbone cracked painfully against the floor.
Panting, she blinked and saw Matt where she had just been, on his knees, hands held out in a calming gesture like she was a wild animal. Her heart was beating itself bloody against her ribcage, the panic only slightly dissipated at the sight of him.
“I’m sorry,” Matt said gently, again treating her like some sort of cornered animal. She realized she was still crouched, panting heavily, on the floor, cringing away from him. From Matt.
Matt, who was good. Matt, who was kind. Matt, who was safe. Matt, who dated women like Elektra.
Grace blinked rapidly and forced herself to relax. She uncurled and unclenched, though her heart and lungs didn’t get the memo.
“I’m sorry if I scared you,” Matt said in that same slow, gentle voice. He hadn’t moved. “Are you okay?”
She started to nod, realized he couldn’t see it and that he’d know it was a lie anyway, and then said, “No.”
Matt edged a little closer. Slowly, as if giving her time to get away.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. She watched him carefully. If anything, he should be scared. She was a mess. First that nightmare, now this? She wouldn’t want herself either.
“Why are you sorry?” His chin dipped slightly as he frowned.
“I shouldn’t have–reacted that way.” Finally her breathing was easing. The panic was ebbing away, because no matter what, she did trust Matt. She knew she was safe.
“I scared you, Grace,” he said, and she wanted to scream at the slow way he was speaking. “You were having a panic attack. I shouldn’t have touched you like that, not after what you’ve been through.”
Grace stood on shaking legs and strode towards him. As she moved, Matt stood in an easy, languid movement that reminded her of a dancer.
“I know you won’t hurt me, Matt,” she said. “I’m fine.” The last word was a snap so harsh she winced as soon as it came out.
“Okay,” he said, though he clearly knew she was lying. “Are you alright?”
“I–” She was about to say she was fine again, that she’d just said it, but this was Matt. “No.”
Matt merely looked at her for a second. She expected him to ask what was wrong, but instead he said, “I got breakfast. And coffee.” He nodded towards the living room.
She could have kissed him. She fought a smile and lost.
“Let me just get dressed.”
When she emerged again a few minutes later, Matt was half-sprawled on the couch, nursing a cup of coffee with a small frown.
She settled next to him and took her own coffee and bagel. They sat in quiet, companionable silence for a while. He didn’t ask about what had happened, didn’t bring it up. He caught her staring at him at one point and merely flashed a smile.
It was hard not to stare. Not only was this man so kind, even with what he did at night, he was looking incredibly good in tight, dark jeans and a black tshirt.
Grace didn’t want to fuck it up. This thing between them, whatever it was, felt like a fragile bud trying to bloom at the end of winter. One frost, and it would die. And Grace was made of frost, of hard winter ground where nothing would grow.
“Think you’re up for that date tonight?” he asked softly.
Grace opened her mouth, then paused.
She really owed him the truth. Even though he wouldn’t ask, wouldn’t pry, she should tell him. He deserved to know how fucked up and hopeless she was.
“I looked up Elektra earlier,” she said instead of answering. It was almost comical how he jolted. Grace plowed ahead. “And one thing led to another, and I remembered all the times Dean told me I was worthless, that he was the only reason I was doing anything in my life, and that made me realize…it was true.”
“It absolutely isn’t true,” Matt said so vehemently she expected to see a physical spark.
“No, it is,” she insisted. “I only got into a good college because he paid for it. I never had good grades or much ambition. My plan was always to graduate, get engaged, and be Dean’s wife someday. That was it. I got a degree in communications because that’s what he picked. And now…Matt, I’m not trying to be self-deprecating, but I’m not that smart. I’m definitely not rich. And I have…nothing. A useless college degree and a huge, wide open nothing in front of me. It’s just the truth. And earlier it…hit me harder than usual.”
“Some people go half their lives not knowing what they want to do,” Matt said softly. He sat back against the couch but was considerably less at ease than he had been. “I’ll help you figure it out. Even if we break up. I don’t care. You deserve a good life, free of him, and I want to help you find it. If you think you like law after working with us, we’ll get you connected like we did with Karen. Or she can help you explore if you’d like to be a reporter. Or if you want to quit and try and write a novel, we can put a desk right over there.” He pointed towards the doors that hid his Daredevil suit. “We can find you art classes, pottery, a job in a bookstore. Culinary classes. Accounting. I’ll help you try it all until you find what you like.”
Grace swallowed hard. “Damn it, Matt,” she muttered around the emotion in her throat. He looked confused. “Stop being so–fuck. So good. What kind of man does that? We just met. We’ve been dating, what, a day? Two days?”
A corner of his mouth turned up. “You deserve everything good life has to offer, Grace. I just want to help you find it, even if it doesn’t include me, in the end.”
She had to lean her elbows on her knees to catch her breath.
“You’re just trying to get me to go on that date,” she said. It was too much, all of it. She might deserve all the good things life had to offer, but there was nothing she could do in a thousand years to ever deserve a man like Matt Murdock.
“You caught me,” he said with that cocky grin she loved so much. “It’s all a bribe to get you to go out with me.”
“It’s working.”
“Then I’ll pick you up at seven.”
She laughed. It was as if a huge weight had lifted from her. She had just admitted to Matt how fucked up she was, and all he wanted to do was help her find her calling.
“Where are we going?” she asked as she set her empty coffee cup on the table and leaned back. Their knees bumped together as she got settled.
“I’ll let you know when I figure it out.” That smile again. Her stomach fluttered and her heart flipped.
“Can you hear that?” she asked, genuinely curious.
“Hear what?” he asked.
“The butterflies you give me.” She immediately flushed at how stupid it sounded.
Matt’s cheeks turned slightly pink. “I–No. They’re not real butterflies. You know that, right?” He was teasing her, but there was something in his expression that made her feel warm all over.
“Well, shit,” she said seriously. “I thought they were.”
He grinned, then sobered slightly. “But I can hear how your heart reacts to me. How some things make you nervous, others excited, others…happy. Sometimes I hear the changes, but I can’t tell what they make you feel, though.”
She scooted closer. “Then I’ll just have to tell you,” she said softly. She kissed him. “Happy is definitely the key word right now.”
“Good. I’m happy, too.”
–
When Matt stopped in front of the restaurant for their first date, Grace laughed out loud.
The whole walk over, she’d been nervous and distracted. Matt was wearing a black button up and those damned jeans, hair mussed and still damp from his hurried shower. It looked as if he’d tried to run his fingers through it. He looked so good it tripped her up, and she’d been overthinking her own dress, knowing he couldn’t see it, but knowing that everyone else would see him looking like that with her.
But the sight of the restaurant made all of those worries disappear in the cold wind blowing the first traces of true autumn around them.
“I’ll admit,” Matt said as they stopped in front of the bustling building. “Not really the reaction I was expecting.”
Grace giggled again. “You know where we are, right?”
“The Family Vine,” Matt said slowly. “I usually have a great sense of direction.”
Grace bent over, she was laughing so hard. “Yes, that’s where we are, don’t worry.”
“This is also where I found you sleeping in your car.” Matt chuckled and it almost sounded…nervous. “I thought it’d be romantic.”
“No, it is, it is,” she hurried to say. Because him saying that made her warm all over. “But you know–do you know why I was parked here? Who owns this restaurant?”
“Ryan and Jess Parker,” he said. “We’ve helped them out with some things last year.”
Grace bit back another laugh, feeling on the edge of hysteria. “Matt, Ryan and I were high school sweethearts.”
Matt went very still. “Oh.”
“He’s the only person I knew who wasn’t…connected to Dean when I left. He and Jess have a new baby, so they didn’t have any room for me. So Ryan got me a permit for my car to park in their extra spot so I wouldn’t be towed, and I used their shower and stuff when I needed it. In exchange, I paid a small rent payment.”
Matt still hadn’t moved. There was a blast of noise and chatter as the restaurant doors opened and a big family came out, parting around them like the current over rocks.
“Oh,” Matt said again. “I had no idea. We can–we can go somewhere else if you–”
Grace decided to put him out of his misery. “No, this is fine! I actually haven’t eaten here before, I never really had the time. And Ryan and I–that was a long time ago. Jess is perfect for him. Plus, they’re the ones that recommended I go apply with you guys in the first place. So really they’re the ones who set us up. Doubly romantic.”
Matt rubbed the back of his neck with the hand not holding his cane. “Sorry, if I’d–”
“Matt, really. This is fine. It’s actually perfect.” She captured his free hand and squeezed. “Come on.”
After a moment–no doubt listening for a lie–Matt held the door open for her. She smiled at him as she stepped into the warmth of the restaurant. It really was perfect, she thought. This place had brought them together twice, in two big ways. First, her job at Nelson, Murdock, and Page. And then that day that had started to feel a bit like fate when Matt had found out she was living in her car, and convinced her to come live with him.
Now they were at the same restaurant, brought together for a third time.
“Table for two. Murdock.” Matt’s voice was almost husky as he talked to the hostess. She hooked her arm in his and squeezed. She didn’t want to admit to herself that she liked being listed under his name. It was a silly thing, but it made her happy all the same. What she didn’t like was the way the hostess gave him an appreciative look when she thought Grace wasn’t paying attention.
The restaurant was totally transformed from the last time she’d seen it. She’d been inside after closing and before opening, but never when it was crowded like this.
Now, the Saturday dinner rush in full swing, Grace saw exactly what drew people here.
She gasped a little as she took it all in. It was homey, yet elegant. The ceiling and exposed brick walls were covered in vines–she had no idea if they were fake or not–and loops of golden string lights wove above their heads. The entire place was bathed in a warm golden glow that went along perfectly with the delicious smells and low hum of conversation.
She couldn’t help staring around as they were seated at an intimate nook in the back.
“Matt, I wish you could see this place,” she said softly. “It’s got this beautiful original brick–which Ryan is very proud of by the way–and the ceiling and the tops of the walls are covered in vines like we’re outside. There are these gold string lights everywhere, which is most of the lighting and everything is so…intimate.” Matt was listening intently, smiling faintly. Grace trailed off. “What?” she asked.
“You just immediately started describing it to me, that's all,” he said softly. He opened his mouth to say more, but a waiter appeared and took their drink orders.
“I’ve never been in here when it’s been open,” she said after the waiter left. “It’s–really, it’s perfect, Matt.”
He smiled and his fingers found his menu. He sighed. “I hate lamination.”
He said the words so sadly that she couldn’t help but snort. “Because it’s…gross?”
“Because then I can’t feel the raised ink,” Matt said with an indulgent smile. “Well, yeah I guess it’s a little gross, too.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize you could do that.” She blushed a little.
“X-ray fingers,” he said, which made her laugh again. She read him the menu, noting things that sounded good to her. She started reading the prices too, but he waved her off.
“We don’t care about prices on first dates,” Matt said in answer to her questioning look that he was somehow aware of.
“That’s sweet, Matt, but you guys literally get paid in pastries half the time.”
Matt laughed. “You’ve got me there. Foggy and Karen always hog them, too, so it’s like I never even get paid at all.” He tapped the table twice. “But I…uh. I’ve been saving up.”
Grace blinked. The waiter reappeared, asked if they were ready to order.
As soon as he was gone again, Grace said, “You’ve been saving up? For a date?”
Matt looked almost…sheepish. He rubbed his neck again. “For a date with…you.”
“Matt, we decided like two days ago to date,” she said teasingly. She fiddled with her drink, drawing shapes in the condensation.
“This is embarrassing,” he said with a laugh.
“Because you only managed ten dollars in two days?” she joked. She nudged his foot with her own under the table to make sure he knew she was kidding.
“Ouch. But no. I’ve been saving for…well, two weeks into you starting work with us.”
Grace choked on her drink. Matt reached for her, worried, but she waved him off. When she recovered, she said, “Why?”
“Because you’re special, Grace,” he said softly. He laced his fingers with hers on top of the table. “And Foggy said that at least the longer I waited to grow a pair, the nicer of a date I could take you on.”
She tilted her head back and laughed so loudly that the older couple at the next table shot her a look. “That sounds like Foggy, alright. So you had a crush on me, huh, Murdock?”
Matt’s sheepish expression turned cocky. “I thought that would be obvious by now.”
“Not to me! I thought it was obvious I had a crush.”
“It must have been to Foggy and Karen. Notice how they always made us do things together? Or how at Josie’s that night they moved when I came in so we sat together?” Matt leaned forward and quirked his eyebrows up. “They knew we liked each other even if we didn’t.”
“But you can hear my heartbeat. And all that stuff. I thought–”
Matt released her hand and gave a dismissive wave. “Not for a while. At first, you were so nervous. Afraid. You got nervous any time any of us asked you to do something. And then–God, I’m going to sound like a dick.” He shook his head.
“Go ahead, sound like a dick,” she said. “It’s not new to me.” She pressed her lips together to hold back her laugh.
Matt rolled his eyes but laughed. He hadn’t worn his glasses on the date, and she reveled in seeing how open his expressions were without them. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to make you pay for your own.”
She bit her cheek to keep from laughing. “Sorry, sorry. You were saying?”
“I was saying that…I’m used to attention from women.” He winced. “See? A dick. So when you reacted to me, to me being closer to you…I kind of tuned it out. You can’t help it. And you treated me just like Karen and Foggy–lots of joking around.”
“Very sure of yourself aren’t you, Mr. Murdock?” Grace said teasingly. But he had a point. “The curse of the poor, hot blind lawyer. I get that. But you really couldn’t tell I was flirting with you? Like–come on. I definitely didn’t say the same kinds of stuff to Karen and Foggy.”
Matt shrugged. “It wasn’t obvious to me until shortly before that night at Josie’s.”
Grace winced. “Oh.” She had a feeling she knew what he was talking about. “The sex dream.”
It was Matt’s turn to choke on his drink. In the deep, golden light it was hard to tell, but she was pretty sure he was blushing.
“No, it’s okay, you already told me you could tell anything like…that happened. I had a sex dream about you, and then every time I saw you at work that day it kind of…repeated in my head. It had…been a while since anything like that had happened to me. Since I’d found someone so…” She swallowed the words. Since I’d found someone so hot. Someone I wanted so badly. Someone I would have killed to see naked, just once.
And there was that cocky grin again, though he was blushing. “Well,” he said with a small cough. He shifted in his seat. “It was kind of hard to miss, for someone like me.”
Grace covered her face with her hands. “God, I’m sorry. That’s so embarrassing.”
Somehow Matt’s hand found her bare knee beneath the table. “Trust me, it was more embarrassing for me. Did you notice I didn’t get up from my desk for pretty much the entire day?”
Grace’s stomach swooped dangerously. The admission, coupled with the feeling of his callouses on the bare skin of her knee, was making her want to cut their date short.
“Are you telling me you had a hard on that entire day, just because you could tell I was horny all day?” She unconsciously clenched her legs and Matt’s nostrils flared.
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you. Exactly like right now.”
Grace briefly debated how much Ryan would hate her if she dragged Matt to the bathroom down the hallway at that instant. Matt seemed to be thinking the same thing, because he hand tightened on her knee before sliding up her thigh just a little. A small breath huffed from her lips.
Matt abruptly straightened.
“Matt–hi! It’s been a while! It’s–Gracie?”
It was as if her thoughts had summoned him. His appearance was ice water in her veins, immediately getting rid of all inappropriate thoughts she’d just been having about Matt.
Ryan stopped at their table, looking sharp in a black button down and black slacks that befit a restaurant owner. “What are you doing here, Gracie?”
Grace didn’t miss the way Matt’s eyebrows rose at the name.
“What are you doing here?” Grace asked, meaning their table.
“I own the place,” he joked, knowing full well what she meant. He glanced back and forth between her and Matt. “Oh. Oh. Sorry, I’m not trying to crash your date, Jess just said she thought she saw Matt Murdock and I wanted to say hi–” Ryan flushed and patted Grace’s shoulder awkwardly. “See you later!”
She laughed. “Ryan, it’s fine.” He merely waved as he hurried away.
Matt leaned in like he was about to share a secret. She leaned closer, too.
“Between him and our waiter and a guy sitting at the bar, I’m confident you look very good tonight.” Just like that, the warmth was back in Grace’s veins and thoughts of bathroom trysts floated through her head. Matt’s voice was deep and husky and inviting. Her eyes traced his perfect lover’s lips.
“Oh?” she said. “But Ryan–”
“Was probably trying to respect his wife.”
“So how do you know, exactly, that I look good? Supposedly.” Grace crossed her arms.
Matt gave her an arrogant smile as he leaned back in his seat. “Our waiter’s pulse picked up by quite a bit when he first saw you. And I could hear him whispering with one of his friends in the kitchen about you.” His expression darkened slightly. “I won’t repeat the comments. Ryan’s pulse jumped, too, and then he got really nervous. Like he saw you, reacted, then remembered how much he loved his wife.”
“And the guy at the bar?” She had no way of corroborating any of what Matt was saying, but Foggy had insisted that Matt had a knack for knowing women were beautiful. His eavesdropping skills were probably how.
“Debating sending you a drink and his phone number in case your date doesn’t go well.” Matt rolled his eyes.
Grace put her hand on his knee this time. “Good thing my date is going very, very well.”
Matt’s breath hitched for a second. His hand covered hers, fingers flexing like he was fighting himself.
“I know you’re wearing a dress,” Matt said after a moment. She found that she liked hearing the obvious strain in his tone, especially as her hand slid a little higher up his thigh like he’d done to her. “And it’s uh…low in the front and back. And it’s soft, like velvet. But I can’t tell anything else.”
“It’s black,” she said softly. “I’ve only worn it one other time, and I never knew why I brought it with me when I left.” She grinned at him. “I guess it was so you could take it off of me later.”
Matt groaned and pressed his forehead to the table for just a second. “You’re killing me, here.”
“Then I guess I shouldn’t ask if you can tell what I’m wearing underneath,” she said. She shifted in her seat a little. Matt’s head tilted, and then he jerked back.
“Jesus,” he breathed. “Grace–”
“The answer is nothing, Matt,” she said in a voice she hardly recognized.
She was starting to think she really wasn’t that hungry after all.
And of course the waiter appeared with their food at that moment.
Matt made a convincing show of feeling around for his cutlery and plate. “What?” he asked when she continued to watch him instead of answering.
“People are going to think I’m such an asshole,” she said with a smile. “Just sitting here, watching you fumble around for stuff like a poor blind man.”
Matt shot her a smile as he placed his napkin in his lap. “I am a poor blind man.”
“Sure. It’s fascinating to watch how good you are at pretending.”
“Well, I am blind.” Matt took a bite of his food. The corners of his mouth revealed the amusement he was trying to hide.
“Sure,” she said lightly.
Grace decided she probably did need to eat before all the things she planned to do to Matt Murdock later. As they ate, they talked. She heard stories from his life, from his time at the orphanage, to the time Foggy moved all his stuff to the dorm across the hall from theirs, to the time he helped Foggy cheat at a pool game at Josie’s so they could win fifty bucks, which they later split.
Grace told him about how her dad used to take her on dates when she was little, just the two of them. She told him about her favorite classes in college, and how much she sometimes missed the townhome she and Dean had shared. She told him about the new software she was trying out for the firm’s website and the ideas she had
Her raging hormones settled as they talked and ate and she found herself more at ease than she had been in a long time. She liked hanging out with Matt, just the two of them. He was funny and sweet all at once. She realized that although he hid parts of himself around strangers, he was more genuine than she’d ever realized. Other than the open flirtations, he treated her exactly how he treated Foggy and Karen, which only made her like him more.
The restaurant was starting to empty when Matt finally asked the waiter for the check. It was as if no time at all had passed even though it had been hours. Grace couldn’t remember the last time she’d been content to sit for so long and simply talk.
“It’s been taken care of,” the waiter said, blushing as he looked at Grace.
Grace’s head snapped up. She caught eyes with Ryan, who was behind the bar. He winked at her and went back to his task.
Matt seemed stunned. “Taken care of?”
The waiter nodded, blushed deeper, then said, “Y-yeah. Mr. Parker–” He glanced around as if he wasn’t supposed to say who had taken care of the bill. “Uh–have a good night.” Then he scurried away.
“Well,” Matt said after a moment. “Guess he’s getting a good tip.”
Grace laughed. “Ryan’s a good guy, I really shouldn’t be surprised.”
Matt dug out his wallet and tossed a couple of bills onto the table. Grace had no idea what the meal cost, but she was certain that their waiter was about to have a really, really good night.
Matt stood and held out his hand for her.
Arm in arm, they left the restaurant. Grace hadn’t had any alcohol, yet her limbs held that same kind of pleasant warmth, her mind slightly dizzy. Everything seemed brighter with Matt around. His presence was intoxicating.
So was the thought of what she wanted to do when they got home.
“Matt, I have to say,” she said as they slowly ambled down the sidewalk. She liked that they weren’t in a hurry, that they were simply enjoying being together. “That was probably the best date I’ve ever been on.”
Matt was smiling when she looked up at him. “Me, too.”
Grace decided to lean into it and said, “I have a feeling it’s only going to get better once we get home.” She hoped that her words, coupled with the cues Matt would read from her body, would let him know exactly what she was hoping for.
Matt stumbled slightly but righted himself almost immediately.
She managed to keep it together until they got into the elevator. The doors slid closed and Matt’s scent wrapped around her, warm and masculine and comforting, and she wanted to lose herself in it. In him.
It had been a long time since she had taken something for herself, something that made her so happy, and she wanted it all. Was it selfish, to want so much? Did other people always feel like this when they were falling in love?
Because, she realized, that was what was happening with Matt. She was falling in love with him, slowly and surely, a little bit each day.
And still she wanted more.
“Come here,” Matt said softly, opening his arms as he leaned back against the elevator wall.
She stepped into his warmth and let out a slow breath. This is what she had always wanted. What she had always needed. Someone warm and safe, someone she was comfortable simply talking with. Someone she didn’t have to worry about saying or doing the wrong thing with.
“Hey,” she whispered, her nose almost brushing his as she leaned up onto her tiptoes.
“Hey, yourself,” he murmured with a smirk that made her stomach swoop. He was cocky, but he was letting her lead.
She curled her fingers into his shirt to hold him in place against her. His heart pounded steadily where she leaned against him. She inhaled deeply. She breathed him in and let her eyes close for a brief moment.
She leaned in, teasing, her lips a hair’s breadth from his.
Matt stayed very still as Grace brushed her lips over his.
She stepped away right as the elevator doors slid open.
Matt groaned and leaned his head back against the wall before following her out.
“You’re killing me here,” he said, repeating the sentiment from the restaurant. She laughed and unlocked the door, smirking over her shoulder as she stepped inside.
Suddenly he was right there in her space, caging her in, backing her against the hallway wall while kicking the door closed behind them.
Grace’s heart tripped over itself in her chest. The blood in her veins went holt, molten, dragging through her body and lighting her on fire as it went.
“I’ve been waiting all night for this,” Matt said in a low voice that sent a shiver down her spine.
Grace opened her mouth to say something sarcastic but his lips crashing down on hers silenced the words. She moaned at the spark that lit between them. She opened her mouth readily, eagerly, wanting to swallow him whole. She wanted to inhale him, devour him, dive into him.
His hands dug into her waist and clutched her close. She could already feel how hard he was where he pressed into her stomach. All it did was make her want more. She would never get enough of Matt Murdock, of his kiss, of his body. She wanted it all. She nipped at his lower lip as he tried to slow the kiss down. He breathed a laugh and obliged, the kiss deepening further.
Matt’s body pressed her against the wall but she didn’t feel trapped. Instead, Grace wanted him even closer. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. She wanted to get rid of everything between them.
He shuddered as her cold hands brushed over his bare skin. One of his hands found her thigh and drifted slowly upwards, dragging the skirt of her dress up as it went. He moaned when he found her hip. She wasn’t wearing underwear. Or a bra for that matter.
Both of his hands were on her ass and then the world tilted slightly as he lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist and let her head thunk back against the wall as his mouth devoured a blazing trail across her jaw and down her neck.
“Matt,” she said, a prayer, a plea. She wanted more, more, more. Her brain was incapable of saying anything else, of forming any other thoughts. Her entire world had narrowed to the space they shared, to the heat between their bodies. To him, and him only.
She moaned again as Matt’s hips shifted and his arousal pressed against her right where she wanted it. She knew she was leaving a trail of her own arousal against the material of his jeans, but she didn’t care.
She trailed her hands down his abdomen, over scars and muscles and fine hair, until she could reach between them for the button on his jeans. She palmed him through the thick denim and was rewarded with a jerk of his hips.
Matt pulled away, panting slightly, his sightless eyes latched somewhere near her chest.
“I want to–do this right,” Matt said.
“It feels really, really right to do it against the wall,” Grace said in answer. Her voice was breathless, pleading. If she didn’t get him inside her in the next sixty seconds she was either going to scream or spontaneously combust or both.
“I know,” Matt said, lips against her throat again. He pressed a chaste kiss to the spot where her pulse pounded. “Believe me, I’m right there with you. But–”
“You want to do it right,” she finished. She did, too. But what difference did a bed make when they were already in the perfect position? It felt like the past few weeks had been leading up to this moment–from her dreams to the night after Josie’s to the shower they’d shared.
Matt very carefully stepped away from her and held her as her feet hit the ground. He kissed her again, long and lingering, and her blood heated all over again. The spark and fire wasn’t gone–it had merely changed to a slower, more intense burn. It was all-consuming, this fire, and still it wasn’t enough.
“Please, Matt,” she murmured as she dipped her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and yanked him closer. “I just need you to fuck me.”
Lust flared on his face and he made a noise halfway between a growl and a groan.
“The condoms are in the bedroom,” he said after a moment. He took her hand and tugged her along behind him towards the bedroom. “Otherwise I would let you talk me into it.”
Grace dropped her small purse onto the couch on the way by. It fell over and out slid her phone, skittering halfway across the hardwood floor before she could stop it.
She giggled and let go of Matt to chase after it.
“It’s like I’m drunk without any alcohol,” she said as she scooped up her phone. “You make me dizzy.”
Matt smiled at her. As horny as she was, affection unfurled and bloomed in her chest at the fondness in that smile. She smiled back at him, taking him in, letting the affection wrap its arms around the lust to combine into something far sweeter than she could ever have imagined.
She glanced at her phone to make sure there were no emergencies–not that she had many contacts these days anyways–and nearly dropped the phone again. Her heart stopped then started again.
Three text messages, all from an unsaved number.
But it was a number she knew by heart.
Grace, we need to talk, the first message said when she opened it with trembling fingers.
Matt noticed the shift in her mood, the uptick in her pulse that had nothing to do with what they had just been doing. “Grace?” he said, stepping forward with a hand out. She barely noticed the tension in his shoulders.
A restraining order? Seriously? said the second message.
There’s nowhere you can go that I won’t find you. You belong to me.
Grace slowly looked up at Matt, fear and anger warring for space in her gut. “It’s Dean.”
Summary: Fleeing from an abusive relationship, Grace St. James goes to the only place she still has a friend: Hell’s Kitchen. She’s forced to live in her car and beg for a job from the law firm Nelson, Murdock, and Page all the while making sure her past doesn’t catch up to her. Enter Matt Murdock: cocky, handsome, and willing to let her live with him for free until she can afford to get a place of her own. Grace is drawn to Matt in a way she’s never been drawn to anyone, causing sparks to fly as they inevitably grow closer and closer.
a/n: Fuck it, I want everyone to go ahead and see our favorite blind lawyer so I’m posting ch 2 immediately! However--not sure when the next update will be.
Series Masterlist
word count: 4705
Grace took a deep, grateful breath of air as she and Ryan walked. “So, what time does this law firm open?”
Matt’s POV
Things had been going decently well for Matt Murdock for once.
Of course, he mused as he walked to work that morning, he’d been through enough that it made sense that things got to be uncomplicated. For a while, at least.
He and Foggy had helped Karen through law school and she had taken the bar exam. He was confident she’d pass. Foggy and Marci were engaged. Matt’s best friend was actually his best friend again, and had even asked him to be best man. The firm was still getting paid in pastries and other random things–like one woman coming in to clean every other week–but it had become a much better mix of pastries and actual money.
And Daredevil…well, Daredevil was still around. But Matt had finally found balance, or something close to it, between his life in the shadows and his life as a lawyer. Crime still happened. It was Hell’s Kitchen, after all. And the justice system couldn’t catch everything. But he wasn’t almost killing himself every other night and he wasn’t putting his friends in danger every time he investigated something.
Matt settled into his desk for the morning. Foggy and Karen weren’t there yet. Foggy was probably off bribing Mahoney with cigars for his mom again, and Karen had some sort of appointment.
He didn’t mind. He liked these quiet moments in the office. Sometimes he didn’t even do work–not that he’d tell them that–but simply basked in the peaceful air as he sipped coffee or ate breakfast.
As Matt pulled out a sheaf of papers he’d meant to read the night before, there was an unfamiliar scent and heartbeat coming up the stairs. He straightened. A client, maybe? He slipped his tinted sunglasses on as he focused on the woman coming tentatively up the stairs. She had papers in her hands and smelled freshly of coffee. And she was nervous. Really nervous. Her pulse fluttered. He could hear her taking deep breaths as if to calm her nerves.
Matt waited to hear her knock at the door. A minute passed. Two. The woman seemed to be considering leaving when she finally knocked.
“Come in!” he called, because a blind man couldn’t play door greeter very well. He came around his desk to the doorway as the door creaked open. He waited, holding his cane loosely.
“Oh–Hi,” the woman said, her voice strong despite how obvious her nerves were. To him, at least. Her hands were trembling slightly around her papers and her purse. “My name is Grace St. James. Are you–Are you part of Nelson, Murdock, and Page?” He heard her shift as she no doubt looked around the empty office.
“Murdock. Matt Murdock. Mr. Nelson and Ms. Page are both out at the moment, but I’d be happy to get started on helping you with your case. Please, come take a seat.” He withdrew into his office, letting his cane bump against things as he went, before settling into his chair with his hands folded professionally.
The woman–Grace–hesitated, then sat in the chair across from his desk. Matt forced himself not to notice too much about her, to respect her privacy, but that little part of his brain that had developed during puberty whispered, She’s beautiful. He didn’t need Foggy there to corroborate it for him, although he was certain he would the moment he saw her.
“It’s not a case,” she said as she sat. Her back was straight but her hands were still shaky.
Matt frowned. “Not a case?” he repeated, as if unsure he’d heard her right. People didn’t usually just…drop by. And she hadn’t asked for any of them by name, so she wasn’t a friend of Foggy’s or Karen’s.
“I’m actually here for a job. I’ve heard that your firm has a reputation for helping good people, and that you might need a secretary.” Her voice wavered just slightly on the word good. “And I’d be really, really grateful if you could consider me for the position.”
Matt’s confusion only grew. He could tell her clothes were expensive, and she had diamond studs in her ears. Her perfume was so slight it practically reeked of money, of privilege. Only those really nice perfumes could be so subtle that he could stand them with his enhanced sense of smell.
So what was a woman like that doing here, asking for a job? And why was she nervous?
“A secretary,” Matt said. “Well, yes, we do probably need one of those, or an office manager. Karen–Ms. Page–was our office manager until she started working with us as a partner.”
He knew she realized he didn’t directly answer her. She shifted in her seat. As she did, her purse shifted too. He scented metal and new plastic. The phone in her purse, so new it was practically untouched. Another odd thing to add to the list, he thought.
“Please, Mr. Murdock,” she finally said, the desperation clear in her voice. “I’ve just–had to start over with my life, and I don’t have any other options right now. I’ll work as your maid, if you need me to. Part time, even. One day a week, I don’t care. I just really, really need a job. Please.”
Matt’s heart panged with sympathy. She was starting over–so maybe her things were nice, but she no longer had money. It happened often enough. But there was something else there, too, some other note in her voice and in the sharp tang of the sweat that was pricking over her body.
Fear.
This woman was not only nervous and desperate. She was afraid.
He’d always had a soft spot for beautiful women in trouble. Or who were trouble.
Foggy would call him a sucker.
“We do need a secretary,” he said again, slowly this time. “And I’d be happy to consider you.”
Some of the tension left her body so quickly he almost smiled. “Oh, thank you. I–here, I have my resume–Shit. Fuck–Sorry! I can…read it to you.” Her wince was so loud he was pretty sure a regular blind man could have heard it.
Something about the way she spoke was really endearing.
Matt could practically hear Foggy’s loud sigh in his head.
“No, it’s alright, if you just want to leave it here I have to discuss any hirings with my colleagues first. But we do help good people, and if you’re alright with that, you might be a good fit. Especially if you don’t mind occasionally being paid in pastries or a free accounting consultation by some of our clients.” He flashed her a grin that he knew was charming.
A startled laugh slipped from her lips. Her heartbeat slowed and calmed. His head tilted automatically to catch the subtleties of the sound.
Matt smiled at her, a real smile, and he heard the little jump in her pulse as he did it.
“Pastries sound great,” she said with another laugh. Matt had to admit, he liked the sound. Some people had really annoying laughs. Hers was nice. Cute, even. “As long as I at least make a steady paycheck of some kind. I really do need a job, more than you know.”
“Then I’ll give you an unofficial offer. I’d be fine with hiring you–especially since right now you’re our only applicant.” He laughed lightly as he laced his fingers together on the desk. “But I need to talk to the others first, if you don’t mind. Is your phone number on your resume?”
“Yes, of course. Yes, my phone number’s on there, as well as my email.” She slid the papers onto his desk and tapped them twice. “Straight in front of you on the edge.” He immediately liked her more. Most people weren’t accommodating to his disability, choosing instead to pretend like it didn’t exist. Or that he was a complete invalid.
Matt sensed her hesitation before she finally said, “I know this might sound…weird. But when you call my references, can you–can you maybe not say exactly where you’re calling from?” The noise of her teeth rasping over her lower lip.
Matt arched an eyebrow. A weird request, yes. But the fear was back again, and this woman was practically shaking with it. “Alright. I’ll talk to the others this afternoon and call you either this evening or tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” she said vehemently. “Thank you. Even if I don’t get the job, thank you for even considering me.”
“Of course. It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. St. James.”
“You too, Mr. Murdock.”
He couldn’t help the words that slipped out. “Please, call me Matt.” To cover for his slip, he added, “You should know upfront this is a pretty laid back place to work. Foggy’s my best friend, and we’ve been friends with Karen for years, ever since she started working for us.”
He heard the soft smile in her voice. “That sounds lovely.” There was a note of wistfulness in her voice. “Thanks again…Matt. Talk to you soon.”
“Nice to meet you,” he called softly after her. He listened to the front door creak open then shut. Her footsteps paused right outside and she gave a small little sigh. Then her footsteps retreated outside, where he heard her do a little jig on the front sidewalk. He laughed, then sighed.
Saint James, he thought idly. The patron saint of pilgrims, with his name attached to a beautiful woman starting over, who had fear loud in her heart.
Matt sighed again. Of course he was going to hire her.
Foggy was going to smack him for having a soft spot for a beautiful woman. Again.
–
Grace’s POV
Grace’s first thought was that Matt Murdock was handsome. Then she noticed he was blind. Then she was too nervous, too afraid he’d turn her away, to notice much else.
But he was giving her serious consideration, and that was enough for her. She had been so excited and full of hope that she’d done a little dance right there outside the office. Thankfully, it was New York, and no one passing by gave her a second glance.
Grace immediately pulled out her new phone and texted Ryan the good–well, hopefully good–news. She’d spent another night in her car, which really hadn’t been so bad. Ryan had given her a couple of blankets and a couple of yoga mats to sleep on. With her bags in the front seat, she could let the back seat down and sleep stretched out with her lower body in the trunk. It hadn’t been that comfortable, but it was better than nothing. She’d showered and ironed her clothes that morning and even watched the baby for a few minutes while Jess showered and Ryan got the restaurant ready to open for brunch.
Without her old phone, Grace could almost pretend Dean Bennett didn’t exist. Almost.
She decided to walk around Hell’s Kitchen and explore a little since she hadn’t gotten much of an opportunity the day before. It was a nice day, warm but not too warm, the late August air not stifling for once.
Maybe Nelson, Murdock, and Page could point her in another direction if they didn’t hire her, or if they could only hire her part time. Matt seemed nice, really nice, and willing to help her out. She hadn’t been able to help the little kick her heart had given at his charming smile.
She’d realized in the same moment that she hadn’t found a man attractive in…a long time. Too long. And maybe it was just because Matt Murdock was nice to her, but damn if she hadn’t taken advantage of his blindness to study him openly for a moment as they’d talked.
She sobered a little as she walked past a delicious smelling coffee shop and decided to duck inside.
Well, Matt Murdock might not be nice. Because Dean had a charming smile like that, that same politeness, the same easygoing manner.
There was no telling what Matt Murdock was like behind closed doors, and she knew that better than anyone.
She shuddered. She thought she would know intuitively if Matt wasn’t nice, and so far she hadn’t had a bad feeling about him. That couldn’t always be trusted, though. She’d already proven not to have great judgment when it came to men.
Grace bought herself a coffee and continued her walk. By the time she finished her coffee, she had a relatively good understanding of Hell’s Kitchen, and it was lunchtime. So she stepped inside a little restaurant that had good prices and a decent crowd to sit and kill some time.
She’d brought her laptop with her and found herself double-checking that all of her location services were still turned off. She’d deleted all of her social media and email accounts, creating a new one just to put on her resume. So far, Ryan and Jess and their restaurant–the Family Vine–were the only contacts in her phone.
Not having social media was kind of like having a phantom limb. Her fingers kept moving automatically to open some app or another, only for it not to be there.
Grace searched local bookstores.
Two hours later, an unknown number popped up on her phone, the ring startling her so badly she jumped. But it wasn’t Dean, whose number she still knew by heart, and she made herself calm down a second before answering.
“Hello?” she said as she packed her laptop up. The restaurant had started to empty and she hadn’t even noticed.
“Hi, Ms. St. James?” a sweet, feminine voice said. “This is Karen Page at Nelson, Murdock, and Page?”
Grace straightened excitedly in her seat. “Yes, speaking. How can I help you, Ms. Page?”
“Hi! Matt was telling us about your informal interview this morning, and even though you were just here, the three of us would like to interview you together if you’re available.” There was a male voice in the background and a muffled laugh. Karen sighed almost imperceptibly.
“Yes, yes of course! I, uh, I’m available anytime you are. Today, even.” She glanced at her phone and saw that it was nearing two o’clock already.
“That would be great. Can you come around four-thirty? I know that’s short notice, but our last meetings of the day will be done by then so we have some time before closing.” Grace liked how warm Karen Page’s voice was. She also liked the idea of working with another woman–she’d feel safer with one there. Hopefully.
“Four-thirty is great. You have no idea how much even getting an interview means to me.” Grace bit her lip, hard, to keep from gushing anymore. Was her luck really, truly turning around? Could it be so easy? So simple?
“Great. See you soon, then.” As Karen hung up, Grace heard two men talking in the background and a loud laugh from Karen.
“See you,” she said vaguely, unsure if Karen had even heard her.
Grace hurried back to Ryan’s again to dump her stuff and maybe freshen up before her actual interview. She texted Jess and Ryan both to make sure it was okay that she came into the apartment and asked if the baby was sleeping. Jess responded that the baby was with her mother for the evening while they both worked in the restaurant, and that her car’s parking pass was on the table.
And so, at four-thirty on the dot, Grace found herself knocking again on the door to Nelson, Murdock, and Page.
It opened almost immediately, and a man with a little bit of a beer gut and brilliant smile greeted her.
“Grace St. James!” he said excitedly, swiping his dirty blonde hair back. It was longer on top and shaved on the sides. He had a round, open face that immediately made her feel at ease. His eyes flickered to the bruise on her face and he briefly looked alarmed before he went back to smiling brightly. “I’m Foggy Nelson. Thanks for coming by again on such short notice. Come in, come in! Coffee? Tea? Uh…I think that’s all we have besides some questionable tap water. Matt! We need one of those water cooler things! What kind of law firm doesn’t have a water cooler?”
Grace stepped inside as Foggy chattered happily at her. She stared at him, overwhelmed. He seemed like maybe he’d had too much coffee.
Matt Murdock appeared in the doorway to his office. His tinted glasses still obscured his eyes, but he wore a wide smile. He’d lost the suit jacket he’d been in that morning. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to the elbow. Okay, he really was good looking, Grace thought.
“Foggy,” Matt said softly, “Let the poor woman breathe. How many cups of coffee have you had today, anyway?”
“I’ve seen him have at least four, and I haven’t even been here all day,” said a familiar female voice. She was tall and blonde and beautiful. “Hi, Grace. Sorry about Foggy, he loves meeting new people.” She must be the Page portion of the firm.
“Like a dog,” Foggy said with a laugh. “Also, probably seven. I didn’t get much sleep last night. Marci–”
Karen groaned as Matt said, “Foggy, I beg you, do not finish that sentence.”
“I was just going to say she was snoring! She has a sinus infection! Get your mind out of the gutter, Murdock.” Foggy and Matt both laughed. Karen smiled at them and gave her a look that said, I know, right?
Grace felt herself growing a little more at ease. What had Matt called it? Laid back? This was more than laid back–these people were…family. And she actually really liked it.
“Sorry about them,” Karen said softly as she came to stand next to Grace. “I feel like I’m a third wheel all the time. Ouch,” she said, nodding towards the bruise on her face. “Looks painful. Hey, guys?” The last two words were louder and aimed at the still bickering friends. Grace didn’t miss how Karen didn’t ask about the bruise, and neither had Foggy. “Don’t we have a job interview to conduct?”
Foggy froze then nodded. “Ah, yes. Job interviews. Karen, how did we interview you? Conference room?”
“I’m pretty sure I just kind of started working here,” Karen said with a laugh. “I don’t think I was interviewed.”
“I think the conference room is the only place with enough seats,” Matt said with a little tilt of his head. “Ms. St. James, if you don’t mind?” He gestured towards the room next to his office, which had a long table and four chairs.
Grace was suddenly nervous despite the inviting atmosphere in the office. She nodded a little and went into the conference room, sitting in the seat farthest from the door. Foggy grabbed the chair next to hair and dragged it so three chairs would be facing her. She felt like she was about to go on trial.
“Chair in the middle, bud,” Foggy said to Matt, whose hands felt around until he found the seat. All three seemed entirely at ease, while Grace thought she might throw up. She quickly pulled out two more resume copies and slid them across the table to Foggy and Karen.
“Sorry,” she said towards Matt. “I tried to figure out how to print a Braille copy.”
He made an odd face. Foggy beamed.
“She was going to make you a Braille copy, Matt. I like her already!” Foggy winked at her, and she blushed.
“Listen, Ms. St. James,” Matt started.
“Grace,” she said. She made a face. “Ms. St. James is my mother.” All three of them smiled at her–Matt’s kind and reserved, Karen’s soft, Foggy’s wide and bright.
“Grace,” Matt said with a nod. “You have a degree in communications from Cornell. Honestly, you seem a little…overqualified to work here.”
“Um,” Grace said, even though she’d been expecting the question. “I mostly went there because of my boyfriend at the time. You can see there’s…a bit of a gap in my resume after I graduated. So I haven’t actually worked in that field…yet.” She almost winced. That sounded bad. She was already twenty-six. That meant she was four years out of college. Four years of not working a single job because Dean paid for everything.
Pathetic. She was pathetic. Pathetic and spoiled, as Dean had told her before.
Foggy shrugged. “Still. Great school. Seems like your grades were good too. Why work here?”
Grace tried to subtly wipe her sweaty palms on her slacks. “Because, as I told Mr. Murdock this morning, I’ve recently had to start over. With everything. I need a job, any job. I’m kind of desperate. And someone said you guys have a reputation for helping people so…I figured it was a good place to start.”
Karen and Foggy exchanged a look. The blonde raised an eyebrow. Foggy shrugged. Karen shrugged. Foggy then looked at Matt, who seemed to know he was being looked at because he dipped his chin.
Grace was trying very hard not to panic. They were clearly communicating silently with each other, but she had no idea what was being said. Was it good? Bad? She couldn’t tell.
“Well,” Foggy said as he leaned back in his seat. He smoothed his tie. “That was kind of our only question, because someone who went to Cornell seems way too smart to work here.”
“We all went to Columbia Law,” Karen said with a small eyeroll. “Though Grace here probably is smarter than you two boneheads.”
Foggy gasped and pressed a hand to his chest in mock affront. “You wound me, Karen!”
Karen must have sensed Grace’s growing apprehension, because she said, “What he means to say is, Cornell was the only thing we’re curious about. As far as we’re concerned, the job is yours. We really are pretty desperate for some help around here, and you seem like a good fit.”
Grace stared at her blankly for a long moment. “You’re giving me the job?”
“Not exactly,” Matt said. Grace’s heart sank. Here it was. The other shoe dropping. “We actually want to hire you as an office manager. Not a secretary.”
“And maybe a social media manager,” Karen added. “Because we don’t actually have social media. Or a website. So if either of those things are something you can do, we’d pay extra.”
Grace’s heart was pounding wildly. She opened her mouth but absolutely no sound came out.
“If you don’t accept, I really might cry,” Foggy said, voice still cheerful. “Matt obviously is no good at filing, and neither am I, and Karen’s too busy trying to show us up as a fancypants lawyer that I feel bad asking her to do any part of her old job.”
Matt and Karen both laughed. “It’s true,” Karen said.
“So…what do you think, Grace?” Matt said softly. She focused on him. Something about him settled her, calmed her. Her breathing eased and another little bit of tightness dissipated from her chest.
“Yes, of course I want the job,” she said quickly. “And I can do a website, and create any kind of social media you want. I just–don’t want my name on it. Please.”
“Ah, off the grid,” Foggy said sagely. “I see. Seems reasonable to me. As for pay, etc–”
Foggy then outlined her pay, the vacation time, and the “shitty but at least we’ve got it” health coverage.
Grace had to clench her fists hard to keep from crying in front of them. Her nails bit into her palms and the pain helped ground her. It was generous. Beyond generous. It wasn’t as much as some places might pay for, but she already was a little bit in love with how they treated each other and how kind they were to her. She loved the idea that they were flexible, that they helped people, that they were willing to take a shot on her despite her obvious lack of experience.
“Thank you so much,” Grace said when Foggy declared the interview “officially over, thank God and all his saints or whatever Matt says.” They all stood and went out into the main waiting area of the office.
“Please say you can start tomorrow,” Karen said softly, conspiratorially. “I’m in desperate need of another woman around here.”
“I heard that!” Foggy said from where he was pouring another cup of coffee. “What about Marci?”
“Marci’s great, but she doesn’t work here,” Karen said patiently. “Besides, she kind of scares me.”
Foggy chuckled. “Me too,” he said.
“Yeah, me too,” Matt said with a laugh. He tilted his chin down towards Grace. “Marci’s Foggy’s fiance. She’s a very important defense lawyer.”
“And hot!” Foggy said. “Don’t forget that she’s hot.”
Matt sighed good-naturedly. “Apparently she’s hot.”
“Oh come on, Murdock–”
“Don’t start with me, Foggy,” Matt threatened. Grace couldn’t see his eyes, but she could see the corners of them crinkle behind his glasses.
Karen sighed and crossed her arms. “You guys are going to scare Grace away before she even starts.”
Grace startled at her name. “No, no, I–It’s…fun. You weren’t kidding when you said it was laid back,” she said to Matt.
“It’s a circus,” Karen said. “I would say it isn’t always like this, except it really is.”
“Yeah,” Matt said with a raised eyebrow. “It really is. She’s not kidding.”
“Well, that’s what happens when three best friends work together, right?” Grace said. She didn’t want to admit that she was soaking it all up. She had never been in such a happy atmosphere. Not since high school, when she used to go to Sunday night dinners with Ryan’s family. Hearing her three new bosses joke back and forth, the affection they held for each other crystal clear, made her want to work there all the more. “At least I won’t be bored, right?”
“That’s the truth,” Foggy said. “Especially when we get paid in the occasional live chicken. Actually–got any experience catching chickens?”
Grace stared at him, unsure if he was being serious or not. “I–Could probably figure it out.”
“Foggy,” Matt said on a sigh. “Grace, let me walk you out. I’m heading home anyways.”
Foggy coughed and said something under his breath that Matt clearly heard, because he sighed again.
Matt gathered his jacket and a cane and then held out his elbow. “Come on, I’m getting you out of here before Foggy scares you off.”
Grace laughed softly and took his arm. She wasn’t really sure how to lead a blind person–did he even need leading with a place so familiar to him? She didn’t want to ask, though, in case it was rude.
Instead, as they descended the stairs, she said, “I really don’t think I can ever express how grateful I am.”
Matt waved off her words with his free hand. “It’s nothing. You said we have a reputation for helping good people. That’s just what we do.”
Grace swallowed hard. She wasn’t so sure she qualified as a good person. “Well, thanks all the same. Um–which way are you headed?”
They stepped onto the street and Matt carefully stepped away from her. He wrapped both hands around the top of his cane and leaned into it. He pointed.
“Oh. I’m headed the other direction. Thanks for walking me out. And the job.” She bit her lip, still feeling nervous.
“See you tomorrow, Grace,” he said after a moment. He smiled at her, so devastatingly charming that her heart stuttered a little. He was a man who knew he looked good, even though he couldn’t see himself.
Dangerous, her mind whispered. Tempting, the rest of her said back.
“Goodnight, Matt,” she said as she turned and walked off.
She took a deep breath as she walked. She couldn’t believe she’d gotten the job. She’d gotten a good job. The pay was decent, the work was actually kind of relevant to her degree, and the office seemed like it’d be a lot of fun, if she let it.
And, if she was being honest with herself as she thought about Matt Murdock’s easy smile and rolled up sleeves, the view wouldn’t be so bad either.
Summary: Fleeing from an abusive relationship, Grace St. James goes to the only place she still has a friend: Hell’s Kitchen. She’s forced to live in her car and beg for a job from the law firm Nelson, Murdock, and Page all the while making sure her past doesn’t catch up to her. Enter Matt Murdock: cocky, handsome, and willing to let her live with him for free until she can afford to get a place of her own. Grace is drawn to Matt in a way she’s never been drawn to anyone, causing sparks to fly as they inevitably grow closer and closer.
a/n: Oh look, a new fic! I’ve always been a huge fan of the Daredevil show, but it aired during my college years which left very little time for any reading or writing of fanfic. I love that there’s been kind of a resurgence because of She-Hulk and the announcement of the new series! Anyways, this fic is 100% pure self-indulgence. There’s fluff and smut and banter and a lot of me just trying to make Matt Murdock happy. I’m having a blast writing it, so I hope you find it fun too!
(also yes, I’m still working on my Batman fic SITN! Don’t worry if that’s what you follow me for--I will be finishing that one.)
Series Masterlist
word count: 4472
The knife under Grace’s pillow was cold and reassuring. She touched it for the tenth time as if to make sure it was still there, though she knew it was. She’d gone to bed early just to feel its comforting presence, because she couldn’t stand sitting awake with her fear for another minute.
She rolled onto her back and brought the knife with her, cradling it to her chest like a child with a stuffed toy.
Her face was still hurting. Her ribs too. She inhaled a trembling breath as she remembered the night before, right before Dean had left. She couldn’t even remember what she’d said but he’d slapped her across the face so hard she’d fallen, and then he’d kicked her in the ribs.
She was happy he’d been leaving for a short business trip. With him gone, even for barely twenty-four hours, at least she could lick her wounds in peace.
But Dean was coming back.
He always came back.
The knife was a precaution that she would hide the moment Dean stepped foot back into the house. Under the mattress, where it couldn’t be seen or accidentally found, but close enough to reach. Just in case. It was there for the same reason that she’d taken a bunch of self defense classes.
Grace didn’t want to die, and she couldn’t say for certain that Dean wouldn’t kill her one day.
Her phone chimed. She rolled over to grab for it, sliding the knife back under her pillow with practiced ease as she went. Dean had his own alert sounds and ringtones on her phone. Sometimes he reacted poorly if she took too long to respond.
Meeting ran late, so I won’t be back until mid morning tomorrow. I’ll make it up to you at brunch. There was even a little heart emoji.
Grace bolted upright in their luxurious bed.
Dean wouldn’t be back until the morning.
Dean would be gone all night.
Her heart pounded as she realized that this was it. He was rarely gone long enough for her to get away with anything, especially something so big.
Grace hurriedly sent back a bunch of hearts–an appropriate late night response, she hoped, because she really didn’t need him to call her yet.
She grabbed the knife, her phone, her pillow. She felt dizzy with fear and relief all at once.
She’d spent half of her life with Dean at this point, and half of that with him beating her, abusing her, his words almost as painful as his actions. He had been kind at first but with a temper, and she had loved him despite of it. Then he had started to hit her. To verbally abuse her. He always followed it with sweet lies and extra attention, making her believe that he would never do it again. But he always did it again.
Now Grace was leaving. And she wasn’t coming back.
She half-ran around the bedroom and bathroom as she threw everything she could into her two suitcases and a backpack. She’d already hidden away cash–two thousand dollars from her mother’s wedding fund for them for “a cash deposit on a venue”–and various other things she could safely hide in her car without seeming suspicious.
Grace packed everything she could fit into those three bags. Everything she cared about–her jewelry, photos of her father, the clothes that she thought would be most useful, and a few other things she would eventually need once she was truly on her own two feet.
Her breaths came in great, heaving gasps as she packed and her hands shook so hard a lot of things dropped on their way into the bags. If Dean came in–there was no way to hide what she was doing.
But her phone stayed blessedly silent along with the rest of their townhome.
She zipped up the bags and glanced around one more time. She had every article of clothing and every pair of shoes she could fit into the bags, her toiletries, her jewelry, her photos, even her pillow.
“Chargers, laptop, lotion, birth control,” she muttered to herself as she zipped those things into her backpack. She glanced around again. She had the essentials–and there was still a little room in the backpack. Fuck it, she thought, and shoved a few of the expensive purses Dean had gotten her the past couple of years into it. Her mother would die of a heart attack if she saw how Grace was handling those purses but Grace didn’t care.
She sucked in a deep breath.
This was it. This was happening.
No going back now.
Grace grabbed her three bags, pillow, and phone then darted outside as quickly as she could. Her eyes darted around the street, searching for anyone who might recognize her, or worse–Dean.
The street was blessedly empty.
Grace shoved her things into her car. She started the ignition, already putting it into drive, and drove away.
Her hands shook on the steering wheel.
It was starting to feel a little like fate, maybe. This night had been months in the making and everything was coming together so well she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. It always dropped.
A small voice in her head whispered hopefully, But maybe it won’t. Things have been so bad, you’re bound to have a some good luck eventually.
Grace made her way windingly towards the only place in all of New York City where she had a friend not connected to Dean in some way: Hell’s Kitchen. Maybe she was paranoid, but she didn’t take the most obvious route in case she was somehow being followed. Dean was, after all, a very rich and powerful man.
It was late, too late. She knew from their friendship on Facebook and other social media that Ryan and his wife had a new baby. She would have to find somewhere to wait–somewhere to hide–until morning when she could beg for his help.
Somewhere near Ryan’s restaurant and apartment, Grace found public parking and pulled over. She locked her doors and hoped no one would bother her. She’d brought the knife with her, just in case.
She was too wired to sleep. She checked her face in the rearview mirror. There was a nice bruise on her cheek, the corner of her lip purpled on that side. The kind of purple that makeup would only draw attraction to. She knew that from experience.
Grace rested her forehead on the steering wheel for a moment. It hurt to breathe but she had no idea if it was the bruised ribs or the panic and fear.
If Dean found her…
She had made sure to turn off all location services on her phone, had deleted the find my friends app Dean had made her get, had tried her best to leave zero indication of where she was or where she was planning to go. For now, her phone was off, which was the safest thing for her.
But as soon as she sent that last text in the morning, she’d ditch her phone, too. Get a new number. She had access to all of her stuff on the cloud, anyways. A phone was just a phone, and it was worth getting rid of just so it’d be that much harder to find her.
She knew, logically, Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t too far from Dean’s townhome on the Upper West Side, but it may as well have been a world away. Dean thought she was spoiled just because he gave her things, gave her money, gave her a place to live that cost millions of dollars.
All Grace wanted was to be able to take a deep breath for once. All she wanted was to be able to goddamn breathe for more than a few hours at a time. She didn’t want to have to look over her shoulder, to question and double check every word she spoke and every action she made.
Grace wanted to live, and she was afraid that staying with Dean would inevitably put a stop to that.
So she was running and hiding like a coward.
All she needed was a little bit of help to make it happen. Two thousand dollars wasn’t much in the grand scheme of things. But maybe Ryan could give her a job and a place to stay just for a month, just until she could get her feet under her and get the hell out.
Grace had to admit to herself that it felt almost good to do something for herself for once. To say damn the consequences and do what was best for herself. Even if what was best was running for her life. At least she was doing it–at least it had been her decision. And at least she wasn’t half dead. She knew some women left abusive relationships only when things got too bad. Things were bad enough already, and they escalated every time Dean got angry.
She finally reclined her seat. It was nearing three in the morning, and the adrenaline of leaving was wearing off. She pushed her pillow against the window and got as comfortable as she could, using her jacket as a blanket.
The knife was still clutched in her hands as she finally drifted off into a restless sleep.
A loud knock startled Grace awake. She hadn’t been asleep long, because dawn was just breaking over the city. Her eyes were heavy and gritty with sleep and she had trouble remembering where she was for a moment.
And somehow her luck was still holding, because the jacket she’d used as a blanket concealed the knife in her hands.
Grace quickly turned the key in the ignition so she could roll down the window.
A female police officer was standing there with arms crossed. Her breath fogged in the air as she said, “Time to move on, ma’am.”
Grace flushed. “I’m so sorry, my apartment isn’t ready until this afternoon and I just–”
The officer sighed, releasing another cloud of fog. “I don’t care. You just can’t park here from six in the morning to six at night. It’s a quarter past.”
“Oh,” Grace said stupidly. “Yeah, of course, I’m so sorry.”
“Next time it’s a ticket.” The officer’s bright blue eyes studied Grace’s face in the rising morning light. She seemed to soften. “Couple blocks away there's a gas station, the owner lets people park overnight for ten bucks. If you need another night. Or…there’s a women’s shelter–”
“Thank you, officer,” Grace said softly before the sentence was finished. She didn’t need a women’s shelter. Dean wasn’t stupid–he’d look into those first, probably. After he checked with each and every person they knew.
“Have a good day.” The officer gave her one last look, eyes narrowing at the bruise on Grace’s cheek, then strode away.
Grace blew out a breath as her heart finally settled back down. She started the car and pulled away. It wasn’t far to Ryan’s, and she was sure she could find somewhere nearby to park until she could talk to him.
She set the knife on the passenger side floorboard as she drove. She yawned. It had barely been three hours since she’d fallen asleep, roughly six since she’d left. Already it felt as if a lifetime had passed.
She found a spot near Ryan’s and paid for an hour of parking on the meter. It was cold, autumn threatening in the air though it was quickly warming as the sun rose. It definitely didn’t feel like late August.
As Grace warmed up in her car, she typed the text she’d been mentally drafting for weeks.
Dean, I’m sorry to do it this way, but I think we should break up. I figured after so long that a clean break was easier for both of us. So I packed up and I’m moving out. I’m sorry. Please don’t try to reach out to me.
Her whole body shook as she sent the text.
Dean’s response was immediate, surprising her so badly she dropped her phone. She whacked her head on the edge of the steering wheel in her haste to grab it to silence his call.
He immediately called again. She sent that one to voicemail too, and the third and the fourth.
Ha ha Grace. You’ll pay for this joke.
Something in her clenched, though she reminded herself that he wasn’t near her this time.
I’m serious. Leave me alone.You aren’t any good for me anymore. Her eyes blurred with angry tears as she sent the text.
You’re mine. You think you can just run off on a whim? After all I’ve given you? Stop ignoring my calls like a bitch.
He called again, and again she ignored it.
I swear I’ll make you pay for this, Grace. You can’t just up and leave me.
Yes, I can, and I did. Leave me ALONE.
She felt proud of herself for the clarity of her response despite the fear sinking into every space in her body. Her jaw was clenched so hard it was making her whole head hurt.
You bitch. I’ll kill you before I let you go.
She sucked in a sharp, surprised breath at the blatant threat.
She immediately screenshot their conversation and uploaded it to the cloud.
Then she turned her phone off, removed the sim card, and threw it in a nearby trash can.
She was on her way back to the car when she saw Ryan. He was down the alley beside the restaurant, taking several bags of trash to the dumpster.
Grace took a deep breath and jogged across the street.
Now or never, she told herself. She knew Ryan was a good man, and he was the only person in her whole life who wasn’t tainted by Dean and her life with him. Ryan had been hers before she had been Dean’s, and she hoped he still thought well enough of her to help her.
God, what if he wouldn’t help her?
She forced herself to call out, “Ryan?”
He whirled to face her. His expression was shocked, then confused, then it abruptly cleared with recognition. His sandy blonde hair was a shade darker and a lot shorter than it had been in high school, and he’d grown a goatee that actually didn’t look half bad. The boy she’d known had become a man, and it suited him.
“Gracie?” he said, dumbfounded. “Is that you?”
She took that as a good sign and moved a little closer. She stepped from the restaurant building’s shadow and into a little shaft of light in the alley.
Ryan gasped. He must have seen the bruise on her face. “Gracie, what happened to you?”
“Ryan, I–I need your help. Please. You’re the only one I can come to.” She laced her fingers together in front of her chest like she was praying. She didn’t believe in God, but if he would do this one thing for her, she’d consider faith.
“Gracie–” he said just as the back door near them creaked open.
“Forgot one, bonehead!” said a cheerful female voice. There was a small noise–a baby. Ryan’s wife and baby.
Grace stumbled back a step. She shouldn’t have come here.
“Jess,” Ryan said softly. “This is Grace. She needs some help.”
A short, curvy woman stepped outside. She held a bundle in one arm while her other hand held a small trash bag that she set down outside the door. Her dark eyes were suspicious as her strawberry blonde hair gleamed in the morning light. Grace knew the moment she saw the bruise, because her eyes narrowed further and her arms tightened protectively around the little squirming bundle.
Ryan and Grace both held their breath as they waited for her judgment.
“Well,” Jess finally said with a small sniff. “We better talk about this over coffee.”
Grace was led upstairs to a small apartment above the restaurant. It was homey, cozy and warm in all the right ways despite some clutter, and already smelled strongly of coffee. There were colors everywhere–random pieces of art, family photos, a brilliantly colored throw blanket, various baby toys and gadgets. It looked like a home. Grace thought back to the cold townhome she’d come from.
“Take a seat at the table,” Jess said, her voice so commanding that Grace’s body obeyed without thought. “Ryan, grab her a mug while I change him real quick, I just heard him shit like crazy on the way up.”
Ryan laughed softly. “That’s my boy.”
Within minutes, the three of them were seated around the small kitchen table, hands cupped around steaming mugs while Jess fed the baby a bottle.
“So,” Ryan said after a moment. He was still studying Grace’s face, over and over, like he couldn’t believe she was here. Or maybe the bruise looked worse than she thought. “What’s Dean Bennett’s almost fiance need from little old me?” The words weren’t venomous–Ryan had always had a bit of a brusque way about him, and Grace could already see why he and Jess fit so well together. Blunt without being cruel.
Grace winced. “I…” She swallowed hard and stared down at her mug. How could she put this on them? No one knew about this, not even her mother. Only she and Dean and the bruises. “I–I don’t–”
“Well, spit it out. You came here for a reason,” Jess said plainly. Something about her utter bluntness bolstered Grace. She just had to be like Jess, like Ryan, and just…put it plainly.
“Dean beats me,” she finally said with a small gesture towards her face. After a beat, she lifted the side of her shirt to show those bruises, because they were even worse than the one on her face.
Ryan cursed colorfully and pushed away from the table.
“Shit,” Jess said softly. “Are they broken?”
Grace shrugged and let her shirt fall. “I don’t think so. It doesn’t hurt too bad to breathe.”
“Gracie–” Ryan said in a tight voice. He rubbed a hand over his head. “You–How long has he done this to you?”
For some reason, this part was harder to admit to. “Years,” Grace said. Her eyes sought her coffee mug again. She was glad to have something to hold, something to ground her. “The last three or so years, and it’s just been getting worse. But last night was the first night I was alone in…a long time.”
Ryan cursed again. Jess shifted the baby to her shoulder to burp him, murmuring in the baby’s ear as she did so even though her eyes never left Grace. Ryan absently placed a hand on the back of the baby’s head, just for a second, tenderness clear in his expression.
“You said you needed help,” Jess said as she settled the baby back in her arms with the bottle. “What do you want from us?”
“I’m–I’m hiding from him. I mean, you know who he is. What he can do. He has money and resources and–I just need to get enough money to get on my feet so I can leave, leave and go somewhere he won’t find me. Until he gives up.” Grace clenched her hands around the mug so tightly she worried it might shatter. “I have nowhere to stay, no job, and limited resources right now. I slept in my car last night.” She blinked back tears and finally looked Ryan in the eyes. “You’re the only person I can trust. Everyone else I know, every single fucking person in my life, is connected to Dean.”
Ryan and Jess exchanged a look. He grimaced. “I…we only have two bedrooms right now, and one is the nursery. And our couch, well–” He gestured to it. Grace looked over, and knew exactly what he meant. It was more of a loveseat than a couch. “And the restaurant…I’d give you a job, you know I would, but we just hired a new waiter and a new hostess a couple of weeks ago. We can’t afford another person right now.”
Grace chewed her lower lip. “I–I get it, I understand. I know I just showed up here out of the blue. If you know anywhere else that’s hiring, just point me in their direction.” She gave a smile that felt all wrong on her face.
“Grace, Ryan and I need to talk about how we can help you, alright?” Jess’s voice was much softer than it had been. “There’s a place around the corner that sells breakfast. Give us…ten, fifteen minutes.”
Grace blinked slowly, looking between the pair of them. “Alright,” she said after a minute, because what other choice did she have?
So she went and got breakfast–surprisingly good and cheap enough that she didn’t worry about using the money–in such a daze that she couldn’t even muster the energy to overthink anything.
Fifteen minutes later, she was back at Ryan’s kitchen table. She could hear Jess down the hallway talking softly to the baby.
“Look, I can get you a permit for our second spot for the apartment. I know it’s not ideal for you to sleep in your car, but you can at least use our bathroom and stuff while you do. And I hate to, but if you could pay the permit fee, and maybe a little for using the utilities?” He looked guilty for asking, but she understood. “And if anyone calls out sick or anything in the restaurant, you can fill in and get paid the same as they do for the night, keep any tips you get.”
Grace wanted to cry. “Thank you, Ryan. Really. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, it’s barely anything,” he grumbled with a faint blush on his cheeks. “Now, as for an actual job, there’s this law firm called Nelson, Murdock, and Page. They’re known around here for helping people out, that kind of stuff. They helped us out last year. They’re great people. I heard they need a secretary, so maybe they’ll give you the gig. Or they at least might agree to help you with a restraining order or something for free.”
Grace nodded eagerly. It sounded promising–really promising. A secretary at a law firm. She could do that. She immediately dismissed the restraining order thing. She would never win.
“Thank you,” she said again. She reached out and squeezed his hand. “And Jess, too. This is all I need until I can get something better going. And, um…do you have a printer? I don’t…I don’t have a resume.” She flushed hotly. She’d never needed one. She’d worked a few jobs in college, mostly to pay for gas without having to beg Dean for it. The only other thing she even had to put on a resume was her degree in communications from Cornell. Which Dean and his family had paid for, just so they could be together at school and simultaneously have a neat little checked box for her eventual role as perfect trophy wife. She would never have gotten into such a good school on her own, let alone been able to afford it.
“Yeah, sure. Put me down as a reference, too. I’ll tell them how great you are, how hard you work.” He grinned briefly. “I take it…you don’t want any word getting out that you’re here, right? Nothing to tie you to him?”
Grace nodded slowly. “I even threw out my phone.”
“That’s going to make it hard to get an apartment, you know. Most of them are kind of like jobs–they want references of previous landlords you’ve had, previous addresses. Usually first month’s rent, security deposit, that kind of stuff.” He blew out a long breath. “I don’t know, maybe those lawyers can help you with that.”
Grace blanched at everything she was facing, simply to be free of Dean. She’d only taken one single, measly step down this current path. She’d never lived on her own, except in college, and even then she spent half the week staying with Dean anyways. She’d never had a real job, at least not since she and Ryan had dated in high school. And if she didn’t want Dean to find her, she had to get creative in finding ways around landlord references. Or find a shitty place that didn’t care if she had references as long as she had cash, but that brought up a whole other set of issues she didn’t want to think about.
“Thank you Ryan, really. This–It’s taken me a lot to just get here, to get out and–”
Ryan squeezed her hand as her voice cracked. “Ah, it was mostly all Jess’s idea. Once I convinced her you wouldn’t be a baby-napper or anything.”
Grace’s face blanched. “Oh God, no, I don’t–”
Ryan chuckled. “Yeah, don’t worry, I told her how you felt about babies. How they terrify you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, whatever.” She glanced around the apartment and felt a little sting of pride for him. “Jess seems great. And the restaurant, too. I’ve been watching on social media as you guys start to blow up. I’m happy for you. And a baby? I can’t even imagine you with a baby.” It was true–she had loved Ryan once, when they were still half babies themselves, and she really was happy to see him doing so well.
“Thanks,” Ryan said, sheepish. “Jess is great. Parenting is…hard, especially with a business, but she makes it all seem so easy. I don’t deserve her.” His voice took on a dreamy quality. There was so much love shining through his eyes it was as clear as the sunlight pouring through the window in the living room.
There was a sharp pain in Grace’s chest. She wanted that kind of love. A love without fear. A love of a good man, a man who would take care of her. A man who was proud of her.
“Nah, you really don’t,” Grace teased so he wouldn’t catch the pain in her expression.
Ryan rolled his eyes. “Cmon, bigshot. I’ll take you to go get a new phone so I can call you when rent’s due.”
Grace was lighter than she had been in years. Yes, the path before her was rocky and covered in shadows and uncertainty. Yes, the fear was still ever present in the back of her mind that Dean might find her, might even kill her.
But she was finally living for herself, even if it meant living out of her car for a few months, because she had done the hardest part of all. And she still had at least one friend.
Grace took a deep, grateful breath of air as she and Ryan walked. “So, what time does this law firm open?”
Summary: Fleeing from an abusive relationship, Grace St. James goes to the only place she still has a friend: Hell’s Kitchen. She’s forced to live in her car and beg for a job from the law firm Nelson, Murdock, and Page all the while making sure her past doesn’t catch up to her. Enter Matt Murdock: cocky, handsome, and willing to let her live with him for free until she can afford to get a place of her own. Grace is drawn to Matt in a way she’s never been drawn to anyone, causing sparks to fly as they inevitably grow closer and closer.
a/n: After a lot of googling, I have come to the conclusiong that no one really knows what the inside of Matt’s bathroom in the Netflix show looks like. However, I do know that there’s only the door into the living room so I’ve created another door for reasons that will become known in the future. Is this important? No. But these are the things I think about and research. Anyways, tangent about floor plans aside, hope you enjoy this chapter!
Series Masterlist
word count: 5464
Grace had a feeling she was in more trouble than she thought.
Grace’s POV
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Karen asked as Matt and Foggy walked ahead of them to Grace’s car. She wasn’t sure why all four of them were going to pick up her car, but they were. It didn’t matter that it was only being moved a few blocks to the parking garage by Matt’s apartment. All four of them were going.
“Why? Is Matt actually a serial killer?” Grace asked lightly. But all day she’d had a bundle of nerves weighing down her gut like a stone. Not because she was scared of Matt, per se, but because it was inevitably going to be awkward. Because she hadn’t been roommates with any other man besides Dean.
“No, nothing like that.” Karen laughed. “Matt’s actually a really, really decent guy. Probably one of the best ones, actually.”
It hit Grace then, a ton of bricks that almost made her trip, the way Karen was speaking about him. “You guys aren’t–you’re not–”
“Me and Matt?” Karen said. She laughed and flipped her hair over one shoulder. She had linked their arms like they were friends. And maybe they were–or at least getting there. The thought warmed Grace as much as the fact that they were all tagging along with her. “God, no. Not that he’s not a good guy, like I said. But no. We aren’t.”
Grace blew out a relieved breath. God, would that have been awkward. “Trust me, Karen,” she said as they walked. “I’m okay with this. I mean, I currently have to run through a dark alley and up the stairs just to go to the bathroom.”
Karen winced. “Yeah, that sounds like it sucks. And hey–Matt’s pretty clean, too. We’ve spent a lot of time at his apartment catching up on work and preparing for trials and depositions and stuff. It’s always really neat.”
Grace dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “But it is kind of weird, isn’t it?”
Karen pressed her lips together. Her blue eyes sparkled. “Yeah, it’s a little weird. I know we all just met. But like I said, he’s a good guy. And anything has to be better than living in your car.”
“You have no idea,” Grace said. Up ahead, Matt’s phone started ringing. He stopped as he talked, allowing them to catch up with them.
“The landlord has your parking pass,” Matt said when they were close enough to hear. He slipped his phone back into his pocket. “I’ll go get it and meet you in the parking garage, save some time.”
“You don’t have to–” Grace started, but Matt was already striding away, cane tapping confidently across the uneven sidewalk.
“Don’t worry,” Foggy said. He linked his arm with her free one, bracketing her in between him and Karen. “There’s no stopping Matt when he gets something in his head, especially if it lets him be a knight in shining armor. I’d say it was the Catholic thing, but really it’s just Matt.”
Karen snorted but Grace flushed. She told herself Matt wasn’t pitying her, but she still couldn’t shake that embarrassment. No matter how grateful she was, part of her still hated that it had even come to this. She’d let her life be so controlled that in order to break away, she had to lose everything. She had to start completely over, a small child again with no life experience, relying on others to care for her and look out for her.
Ryan and Jess were waiting outside their apartment for her, a squirming Max in Ryan’s arms. She had texted them earlier in the day to say that she had been offered another place to live with one of her coworkers.
“Foggy Nelson,” Ryan said with a blink of surprise. He balanced the baby in the crook of one arm and held out his other for Foggy to shake. “She’s staying with you?”
“Hey! Good to see you again,” Foggy said excitedly. He started cooing over the baby. “Matt, actually,” he said distractedly as Max grabbed his finger in one tiny fist.
Ryan narrowed his eyes, but then his expression cleared right as Jess said, “The blind one?” Grace had a feeling they were both having similar thoughts to what she’d had earlier that day–it was harder for a blind man to be a creep.
“The very same,” Foggy said, not seeming to care that that was how Matt was characterized. Grace had already seen Foggy’s protective side come out when it came to Matt and Karen, but particularly Matt’s disability. It was another of a long list of reasons she really liked being around him. But either he was too distracted by the baby to care, or he knew Jess hadn’t meant it as an insult.
“I’m Karen Page, by the way,” Karen interjected with her hand outstretched. They exchanged pleasantries for a minute before Jess cut in.
“It’s almost little man’s naptime,” she said in that blunt way of hers. Right on cue, Max let out a small wail. Jess sighed and exchanged a lovingly exasperated look with her husband.
“I won’t keep you,” Grace said. She opened her mouth to say something else but Jess interrupted her with a bone-crushing hug. The woman was tiny, barely up to Grace’s chin, but hugged with the strength of a bodybuilder.
“Take care of yourself,” Jess said sternly. She pointed a finger at Foggy. “Don’t you let anything happen to her, or you’ll answer to me.”
Foggy’s eyes widened. “Yes, ma’am. Don’t worry, Matt’s a good guy.”
“We’ll all look out for her,” Karen added with a smile.
Grace gave Ryan the best approximation of a hug she could manage with a crying baby between them.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “Really. You guys saved my life.” She swallowed back the threat of tears.
Ryan kissed the side of her head. “Call us if you need anything. And feel free to stop by anytime.”
“Or babysit,” Jess said with a wink as Max let out a particularly loud wail.
With their goodbyes said, Ryan and Jess took Max upstairs for his nap, and Foggy and Karen slid into Grace’s car.
“Spacious,” Foggy said as he stretched a little from the backseat. She watched in the rearview mirror as he not so inconspicuously looked around.
Grace laughed as she pulled out of the parking spot. “I let the backseats down and sleep half in the trunk.”
Foggy flushed, caught in the act of mentally measuring the space out. “Oh. Yeah, that’s better than stretching out back here.”
He gave her instructions on where to go, intimately familiar with his best friend’s building, and guided her into the parking garage. There was an area for the sixth floor–Matt’s floor–and a spot marked 6A that she pulled into. Matt was leaning against the wall next to it, cane clenched in his hands.
Foggy got out and immediately started talking about how cute Max was, then took it upon himself to place the parking sticker on her car. Then they each took a bag and Matt even insisted on carrying her backpack. All Grace was left with was her pillow and her purse.
Was this what it was like to have friends? Real friends? She and Dean had friends, sure, people they’d grown up with and people they’d met in college and after. But all of those relationships seemed…almost fake compared to what it was like to be around the three people currently helping Grace. The people in her and Dean’s life had always wanted something–connections, money, power. But the three people in front of her were helping her only because they wanted to. They weren’t expecting anything in return, and Grace had to admit it felt…nice.
Foggy and Karen did most of the talking while they walked to the elevator. Karen was teasing Foggy about his reaction to Max and asking when he and Marci were going to have a baby, which led to a whole discussion about Marci terrorizing him with wedding planning.
She caught a hint of Matt’s smile as he listened to his two friends talk. That smile brought a whole new onslaught of butterflies into her stomach.
Matt’s apartment was stark, as promised. There was a lot of exposed brick, exposed beams, and neutral colors. There were huge, arched windows filled with mismatched panes of glass and minimal furniture throughout the space. Everything was neat and in its proper place. She supposed all of that made sense–less stuff meant less he could run into as well as less maintenance.
But there was only one bedroom. Grace frowned a little. She supposed Matt had never told her there was an extra bedroom, after all. Just that there was plenty of space. And there was. The place was wide open and twice the size of Ryan and Jess’s apartment. It was nicer than she’d anticipated, that was for sure.
The couch looked comfortable enough, though, so that’s where Grace put her pillow and purse for the time being. She didn’t care if that’s where she was sleeping. Anything was better than her car.
There were also steps leading up to a roof door–locked and secured, Matt assured her, but he could have a key made for her if she wanted one. No one used the small space except for him, he said, though there was a door out in the hallway too.
There was also a set of double doors with a padlock on it. Storage, apparently. And there was a firehose next to those doors, oddly enough, which Matt had no explanation for. Foggy said he was pretty sure the building had been a fire station, which then started a good-natured argument between him and Karen because she insisted that six floors up would not have been a good fire station.
Grace had to admit, she loved the near-constant chatter. It was a comfort to her, simply observing the playfulness the three friends shared.
“I made space in the wardrobe for you,” Matt said quietly as Karen and Foggy argued and laughed. “Your stuff on the left, mine on the right. And there’s plenty of space in the bathroom, I don’t have much.”
Her body flushed all over again. “I…Thanks. And I promise I won’t move anything,” she said, because she was sure that he knew exactly where everything was and had gotten accustomed to it staying that way. “If I do, I promise it’s okay to yell at me.”
He smiled. “I won’t yell at you. I might end up wearing women’s deodorant or something, though.”
She laughed and the nerves faded away again.
“Pizza!” Foggy said, jolting them from their conversation. “We’re having a housewarming for this…unconventional arrangement!”
“I have to go, actually,” Karen said with an apologetic wince. “I’m moving into Ellison’s today.”
“Right. Your place has…rats. Roaches. Whatever.” Foggy sighed. “Fine, no housewarming for you. Did you need help moving?”
“No, I’m good. Call me if you guys need anything,” Karen said with a little wave. “See you tomorrow.”
“See you,” Matt said, head tilted in her direction.
“Have fun at your fancy new dad’s place!” Foggy half-shouted after her. Grace could hear Karen’s laugh echo from the hallway outside. Foggy turned back to them. He opened his mouth, but his phone started ringing. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Marci’s ringtone.” The words were a sigh.
Within a minute, it was clear Foggy’s idea for pizza wasn’t going to work. There was some sort of wedding planning emergency, and he had to bring Marci dinner so she could juggle that and her prep work for a deposition at the same time. He apologized profusely as he left, promising a proper housewarming “mostly for Grace but also because I don’t think I ever did one for Matt either.”
And then they were alone.
“We can still get pizza,” Matt said as Grace made her way to the windows to peer outside. “I’m not…I don’t usually have time to cook, so I don’t really have anything here.”
“And I’m a terrible cook, I should warn you,” Grace said with a laugh. “Pizza sounds nice. My treat, for letting me stay.”
“You don’t have to–”
“Please,” she said, and Matt stopped. He nodded.
They had a short debate about what pizza place was best and which toppings to get, finally settling on something. Grace called and ordered for delivery.
Then they were alone again. The silence between them grew and stretched.
Matt sat on the edge of one of the armchairs. Grace took that as her cue to sit, too. His back was straight, palms on his knees, his head tilted just slightly.
“Um,” she said, acutely aware of the silence in the apartment. He didn’t even have a TV, she realized, but then mentally smacked herself for the thought. “I usually shower at night. You?”
Matt did that thing he did where he went totally still. “Yeah, me too but–Usually late. I don’t…sleep well.”
“Right. Okay.” They lapsed into silence again. Grace had to laugh after a moment. At Matt’s quizzical look, she said, “Doesn’t it feel like college all over again? The whole awkward new roommates thing?”
He grinned at her, the sight making her breath hitch a little. God, how was she going to survive living in close quarters with a man who looked like that?
“Did I tell you that Foggy and I were roommates? One of the first things he asked me was if my eyes had been knocked out. And then he complimented my looks.” Matt spread his hands wide in a shrug and chuckled.
Grace couldn’t help but laugh. “That does sound like Foggy, yeah.” Then she frowned. “Your eyes aren’t knocked out, are they?” she said teasingly, even though she knew they weren’t. “I’ve never seen them, you know.”
Matt laughed again and took off his tinted glasses. He fumbled with one hand for the coffee table and set them atop it. Grace had to catch her breath again. His eyes were brown, a really pretty shade, and aimed somewhere over her left shoulder. He looked…different without the glasses. Softer. More open.
“That proof enough?” he said. He raised one dark brow.
“For now. I may ask you one day to prove they aren’t fake eyes, like in–Damn, you probably haven’t watched that movie.” She winced. “Sorry. Faux pas.”
“Don’t worry about it, I’m used to it. Though I do listen to movies.” After a second, he grinned again and said, “Also, my eyes are real.”
“Sounds like something a guy with fake eyes would say.”
He laughed again and Grace wanted to bottle the sound. He was different here, in his own space. Despite how awkward it was between them, he was more relaxed than he was at the office. She supposed she ought to get used to it.
“So we both shower at night,” Grace said. Matt fiddled with the end of his tie, then seemed to think better of it and took it off. She forced herself to not look at the slice of skin that was revealed at the top of his shirt as he undid one button. “Are you a morning person?”
“Definitely not,” he said quickly. “Perks of being my own boss–I can come in late if I want.” He absently wrapped the tie around one hand.
“But you’re always there early,” she pointed out. Despite her silent command, her eyes disobeyed and trailed to his neck. She blushed, grateful that he couldn’t see it or the direction of her gaze.
“Like I said, I don’t sleep much. Besides, just because I’m at work early doesn’t mean I like it.” He shrugged.
“Fair enough. I’m not a morning person either. I’m actually a pretty deep sleeper, according to–people I know.” She almost said my boyfriend. Dean wasn’t her boyfriend, not anymore. There was a knot in her chest all of a sudden, one she quickly ignored.
“Ah–about that,” Matt said. “Foggy already mentioned the neon sign, but I figured I should warn you. Apparently there’s a huge sign across the street and it’s really bright at night. I’m…sorry about that, if it bothers you. I could maybe get some curtains or–”
“So that’s how you afford this place,” she said with a snap of her fingers. “And don’t worry about it. I really am a deep sleeper, it shouldn’t bother me. If it does, I’ll just buy one of those eye mask things.”
Matt relaxed. “Yeah, I definitely don’t make enough to afford this place regularly. And I doubt my landlord would like to get paid in chickens.”
The conversation devolved into whether or not they’d actually gotten paid in chickens, which in turn led to a story about Foggy chasing a chicken around the office one day. As Matt described the utter chaos that was a loose chicken in the workplace, a knock sounded at the door.
Matt showed her where all of the plates and things were as they divvied up the pizza. Grace silently noted all of it so she could be sure to put everything back in its proper space. Matt also opened his startlingly bare fridge and offered her a beer and whatever fridge space she wanted.
Grace had to admit, it felt nice to have fridge space again. It had only been about a week since she’d left, since she’d been living in her car, but already it felt like a lifetime had passed. Things were so utterly different now, and not just because she was technically homeless.
As they ate, they talked about groceries and fridge space.
“I can at least help pay for utilities,” Grace argued as Matt obstinately refused to let her pay for any of his groceries. “It wouldn’t be fair to–”
“I told you rent free, and I meant it,” Matt said, a note of steel entering his voice. “Besides, I’m one of the ones who pays you, so technically it’d just be giving me back my own money.”
“Well…when you put it that way.” Grace shifted in her seat. “I can at least wash these plates, then.”
Matt smiled up at her as she stood and gathered the remains of their dinner. The corners of his eyes crinkled as she bent to grab his plate. Her breath caught for a moment. “Now that’s something I won’t argue with,” Matt said softly. “I hate doing the dishes.”
Grace straightened and laughed. “Fair enough. I’ll do all of the dishes then.”
She went to the sink and turned the hot water on. From behind the counter, she could see Matt rubbing absently at his chin.
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to be my maid,” he said as she poured soap on a sponge and started scrubbing.
“Matt, I promise I don’t. I want to pay you back in some way. I can’t–I can’t tell you enough how grateful I am. Even if I turn out to be the world’s shittiest roommate and you kick me out in two days, I’ll still be grateful.” She ducked her head to hide the way her voice cracked.
“I wouldn’t kick you out,” Matt said. He sounded so serious it was almost angry. “I doubt there’s anything you could do to make me, either.”
Grace bit her lip as she rinsed a plate and set it on the drying rack. And, as she always did, she decided to make a joke to cover up the swell of emotion in her throat. “Even if I swapped out all your work shirts for pink ones?”
Matt laughed, a loud, surprised sound that had her grinning automatically. “Well, if you were careful about it, I’d never find out.”
“Careful, Murdock,” she said as she set the other plate to dry. “Don’t give me any ideas.”
She dried her hands with the world’s softest dish towel. Matt was gathering some papers out of a briefcase and arranging them on the kitchen table.
“I’ve got some paperwork to catch up on,” he said as she gathered their empty drinks and set them in the recycle bin. “I’ll be up for a while. But the sheets are clean whenever you’re ready for bed. And there are clean towels in the bathroom already.”
Grace paused. “I–Matt, I can’t take your bed.” Something at the thought of sleeping in Matt Murdock’s bed–even without him in it–set her heart to racing.
“Of course you can,” Matt said with a small frown.
“Matt, no. I’ll sleep on the couch. I’m the guest here.” She wiped her sweaty palms against her pants. “Besides, you’re too tall for the couch.”
Matt waved her away. “I sleep on the couch sometimes already. Like I told you, I don’t sleep well.” His voice softened. “And you’ve been sleeping in the car. You should have a real bed.”
She was shaking her head before he finished speaking. “Absolutely not. I promise you, the couch will feel like a real bed to me.”
“Take the bed,” he said, that note of hard steel in his voice again. It pitched his voice lower, made it more gravelly. She shivered a little at the sound of it, almost tangibly rough against his skin.
“Fine, I’ll take it tonight and then I’m sleeping on the couch the rest of the time I’m here.” She crossed her arms and silently dared him to argue.
He scoffed lightly. “We’ll see.”
She narrowed her eyes at him even though he couldn’t see it. “Like I said earlier, don’t tempt me. Your shirts might turn mysteriously pink if you don’t sleep in your own bed.”
Matt laughed and shook his head as he shuffled through his papers. “I’ll take my chances.”
Grace went to where she’d left her things and took them into the bedroom. She decided she wouldn’t unpack everything just yet–mostly because, well, the bed was looking really inviting and unpacking took time.
Just one night, then the couch, she swore to herself as she gathered everything she would need to shower and get ready for bed.
The bathroom was pretty big, with a long counter and large shower stall with the toilet between them. Like the rest of the apartment, it was sparse, clean, everything in its own spot. She laid out her stuff carefully and made sure to keep it all away from anything of Matt’s so he wouldn’t accidentally grab the wrong thing.
She also might have snooped, just a little. There were the typical toiletry items–toothbrush and toothpaste, an unscented deodorant, shaving cream, a razor, a small comb. There was also a hefty looking first aid kit underneath the sink, not a speck of dust on it and its interior well stocked. She wondered if it was because Matt bumped into things a lot. Or maybe he was the type of person who was always prepared for the worst.
There was a door leading into the living room, as well as into the bedroom, so she locked both before she started to undress. She almost laughed at herself–it didn’t really matter if he walked in on her, after all.
The shower was luxurious. He had one of those expensive-looking showerheads that mimicked rainfall, the pressure not too hard or too weak.
She groaned as she stepped into the hot spray. After luxuriating there for a minute, she snooped there, too. He only had a bar of soap and a bottle of shampoo, both unscented. When she uncapped the shampoo though, it still smelled distinctly masculine. It made sense, she supposed. She’d always heard that being blind made the other senses stronger, and strong smells were probably too much for Matt.
As she washed, she mentally noted not to put perfume on until she was outside the apartment, and not to use scented candles. She also washed with his bar of soap instead of her body wash, which was scented. She would buy her own soap or unscented body wash if it bothered him.
After she put on her pajamas and finished her nighttime routine, she stepped out into the living room where Matt was still at the kitchen table working. However, sometime while she’d been showering he’d changed into a tight black shirt and sweatpants. She tore her eyes away from the strong swell of his biceps and shoulders.
“Your shower is awesome,” she said cheerfully as she toweled her hair. He’d also made up the couch with a pillow and blanket and even a spare sheet. She briefly debated just laying down on it and refusing to get up but…the bed was too inviting an offer to give up, even if it was only for one night.
Matt didn’t look up from where his fingers were skating quickly over a paper. “The showerhead came with the place. Feels fancy, doesn’t it?”
“I’m starting to suspect that you lead a secret life,” she mused as she folded her damp towel over her arm. Matt went still. His head was tilted towards her. “How else do you manage to pay for such a huge apartment and fancy shower?”
He huffed a laugh. “You caught me,” he said, fingers moving once more.
“Anyways, I–I just wanted to say thanks again before I went to bed.” She shuffled awkwardly. “I know I said it already, but this…means a lot.”
“It’s no trouble,” he said softly. “Any one of us would have done it.”
“Yeah but–you did. So, thanks.”
He gave her a soft smile. “You’re welcome, Grace.”
She smiled back at him, hoping he could hear it in her voice as she said, “Goodnight, Matt.”
“Goodnight.”
She slid the giant bedroom door closed–it didn’t so much as squeak–with one last glance at his muscled torso in that shirt. God, she was in deep shit living here, wasn’t she?
She muttered a curse as she pulled back the covers on the bed and pushed all of Matt’s pillows to the far side to make room for her own.
He hadn’t been lying about the sign across the street. None of the lights in the bedroom were on, but it was still relatively well lit in shades of blue that quickly shifted into a dark green. It wasn’t too bad, though, high up enough that only the far half of the bedroom was illuminated. She didn’t mind the light, and even welcomed it. It felt…safe, somehow. Comforting.
She climbed into the bed with a small sigh, then froze.
Did Matt Murdock have….silk sheets?
She rubbed her fingers across the material in the dark, and then her legs, then even rubbed her cheek on one of his pillows.
Good God, he did. She groaned a little as she sank into the bed.
Who knew Matt was secretly so…spoiled?
She wasn’t complaining though, because damn, the sheets felt amazing. She was pretty sure they would feel just as amazing if she had been sleeping in a real bed for a week and not in the back of her car.
Grace rolled over and buried her face in one of his pillows, hoping he wouldn’t mind that she was basically molesting his bed. When she inhaled, her nose filled with a subtle but undeniably masculine scent that sent a flutter through her belly. She inhaled again and closed her eyes.
As she laid there, she let herself remember all the things she did miss about Dean. She’d genuinely enjoyed sharing a bed with someone, sharing her space, knowing that there would always be someone there in case something happened. She’d missed the soft sounds of his breathing, his deep, slow snores. The way he’d sometimes smile at her when she woke up.
But it was the rest of it that she didn’t miss.
She didn’t miss the nights spent laying in fear, waiting for him to come to bed, hoping he would be in a good mood. She didn’t miss the nights spent awake because of some pain or another inflicted by his hands. She didn’t miss how he’d sometimes make her change her pajamas, telling her that some of them weren’t flattering, or that some would make the bed too hot.
She missed some things about Dean, and she finally let herself admit it. She had loved him, once upon a time. It was why she’d stayed for so long.
But the longer they had been together, the more the monster within him had come out, and the more frequently she saw reasons to be afraid of him than to love him.
Grace fell asleep all at once, lulled into dreaming by the soft bed and silk sheets, her mind full of monsters hiding in shadows.
Matt’s POV
Matt was an idiot.
He should have known sharing his space wasn’t going to be easy. But that part of him–the same part that ached to protect people, that drove him to the streets every night in order to do so–hadn’t given it a second thought when he’d offered Grace a place to stay.
There were several things that hadn’t crossed his mind, however.
The first of them was how…almost intoxicating her scent would be as it mingled with his. She’d washed in his soap, and he grudgingly admitted it did little to temper his attraction to her. Some base, animal part of him reacted to her smelling like him.
The second thing he hadn’t considered was, stupidly, his other life.
Of course he had to sleep on the couch, because there was no other way he’d be able to sneak out every night like he had to. If she was on the couch, he’d inevitably wake her up as he stumbled back inside from a fight. Even with him sleeping on the couch, he still might.
He had to figure out a way to balance it, her living there and his life as Daredevil.
For the moment, he really did have paperwork to catch up on, even as the sounds of Grace settling into his bed in the other room distracted him. She had apparently discovered his silk sheets and liked them. She had groaned a little. There were unmistakable sounds of her rubbing her skin against them.
He smiled to himself as he read and listened to her breathing even out into sleep.
She deserved a bit of luxury, he thought. Even if those luxuries were intended for himself, he didn’t mind sharing them. She’d had a rough time recently and he wanted her to feel comforted for once.
Matt sighed and stretched.
It was getting late, and the devil needed to get to work.
Matt quickly gathered his things and strode over to the storage room, one ear cocked towards the bedroom the whole time. He opened the doors and the trunk as quietly as he could before dressing quickly and half-running up the stairs. Up on the roof, the night air cool and refreshing, Matt listened in case he had woken her up.
But, as she’d warned him, she was still sleeping as deeply, if not more so, as when he’d first gotten up.
Matt breathed in the night air, inhaling the familiar smells and tastes of his city.
He felt infinitely better knowing Grace was under a real roof for the night. He’d worried for two nights straight about her sleeping in that car, exposed and in a dark alley. He’d meant what he’d said about her needing a real bed, too. His nighttime activities aside, he wasn’t going to make her sleep on a couch. He was at least somewhat of a gentleman, even though Foggy would likely laugh outright at the sentiment.
Matt darted across rooftops, his thoughts full of Grace. He told himself it was only a harmless crush. That she was an employee, a coworker, and now a roommate. It had only been about a week, and she’d already wormed her way into his life.
Matt thought back to his conversation with Foggy after hiring Grace. He had warned Matt not to touch Grace, even with a ten foot pole, so that he wouldn’t mess up the office dynamics. And then Matt had gone and invited her to live with him.
Why Mr. Murdock, you sure work fast. Not even going to take me out first?
Matt grit his teeth as he remembered her teasing tone.
No, he wasn’t going to go there. He liked her, respected her, but he had a tendency to bring ruin to everything he cared about.
So he would keep Grace safe in his apartment until she found her own place and he would work alongside her, nothing more.
He knew he was lying to himself, but he pretended he wasn’t.
He was in a lot of trouble, having her there, but there was nothing to do about it now.
