Lucky and the Electrocuted Ex

by Emmy Grace

  I don’t slow down until I get to Gumbo, who has thankfully and graciously stopped to await me. Otherwise, I probably wouldn’t have caught him. This is far beyond what a woman of my non-fit physical fitness is capable of.

  When I reach him, I scoop him up into my arms and nuzzle him before I look down into his face and explain the situation.

  “You can’t come down here. No, no! You could drown. And you scared me half to death. You hear me, little man?”

  At this point, he’s tucked under my arm like a football and I’m wagging a finger down at him. His innocent brown eyes are gazing sweetly up into mine. My heart melts.

  Right until I glance up and see something lying at the edge of the quarry.

  Something that looks an awful lot like a human body.

  3

  With Gumbo held tight against me, I tiptoe my way around the mouth of the quarry toward the figure. It’s good-sized, probably a man, and currently face down. As I approach, I can see that he’s in jeans and a plain white t-shirt, and he’s wrapped in something Wire maybe? I can’t tell. But it’s keeping his arms and legs together like he’s standing at attention. Or, in this case, lying at attention.

  I creep toward him. Maybe he’s at the tail end of a bender and he’s passed out cold. Or maybe he’s a frat boy and his buddies roofied him, tied him up, and left him out here as a prank.

  The closer I get, though, the more I get the sinking sensation that he’s not going to wake up when I reach him.

  I stop about a foot from his head. I’m looking down at him. His feet are actually still in the water and there’s a definite scent emanating from his body. It smells like singed hair and burnt flesh.

  I reach out tentatively to tap the top of his head with the toe of my shoe.

  No response.

  I tap again, a little harder.

  No response.

  “Hey, buddy. Wake up,” I say, moving down to his shoulder to nudge him even harder.

  When he still doesn’t move, Gumbo and I walk around to get a better look at him. His head is turned to the side, one cheek smashed into the fine gravel of the quarry bank.

  I’ve seen enough dead bodies in the last year not to be overly alarmed by the sight anymore. I suppose it doesn’t take long to get a little desensitized. That’s a sad truth, but a truth, nonetheless. But no matter how many times you see gruesome crime scenes, I don’t think anything can prepare a girl for seeing the dead body of someone familiar to her. There’s not a person alive who could stay calm through something like that.

  Especially when the body in question belongs to an ex-boyfriend.

  An ex-boyfriend and ex-stalker.

  And, even worse, the very guy the Chief of Police was just at your house asking you about. Because his family reported him missing.

  Yeah, I think it’s perfectly reasonable and acceptable that I’m a little alarmed right now.

  And by little, I mean that I might’ve lost time for a few seconds in a fit of pure panic.

  I know how this will look. Not only that he’s dead, but that his body is behind my house. And matters are only made worse, far, far worse, by the fact that he’s wrapped in Christmas lights.

  Purple ones.

  Purple ones that I bet twinkle when you plug them up.

  Just like mine.

  Something tells me that they are mine. I ordered twenty sets and only when I went to put them up this morning, there were only nineteen. I thought I’d just miscounted, but I’m guessing not. Now I know what happened to lucky number twenty.

  Or, in this case, very, very, very unlucky number twenty.

  “What is it with you and dead bodies?”

  I jump so violently I nearly drop Gumbo on my dead ex-boyfriend’s head when Liam speaks from behind me.

  “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, where did you come from?”

  Liam is sauntering toward me like he has not a care in the world. He hikes a thumb back toward my house. “Down the hill. Same as you.”

  “Seriously, I’m making you wear a bell. For my own protection. Otherwise you’re going to give me a heart attack sneaking up on me like that.”

  “I didn’t sneak up on you,” he says, almost absentmindedly as he bends to look at the corpse lying a foot in front of me. “You just didn’t hear me.”

  “I didn’t hear you because you didn’t make a noise.”

  “Everything makes some kind of noise. You just can’t hear it because you have a carnival in your head that never shuts off.”

  Sadly, that’s a fairly accurate assessment, I’d say.

  “Since you know that, why on earth don’t you announce your presence before you scare the pee out of me?”

  Also, sadly, for me that’s not just a figure of speech. I have a notoriously weak bladder.

  “I did announce my presence. I spoke to you. I could’ve just showed up beside you. How would you have reacted then?”

  He raises his head and meets my eyes. His expression is wry.

  He makes a good point.

  Dang it.

  Liam and his logic.

  Infuriating!

  “Okay, that would’ve been much worse, but there has to be a better way. Has to be. That’s why I think you should consider the bell.”

  Liam stands. “I’m not wearing a bell.”

  “Please! For me!”

  “The only way I’m wearing a bell for you is if that’s the only thing I’m wearing.”

  In any other context, that would be hot and sexy, and I’d probably break a sweat, but right now, it’s just Liam’s way of saying no. Or maybe even HECK NO.

  In capital, shouty letters.

  I stroke Gumbo’s head as my bottom lip pushes out into a pout.

  “Fine. We’ll see if you still want me when I’m reduced to wearing adult diapers because you refuse to cut a girl some slack.”

  Most people wouldn’t recognize humor on Liam. It’s easy to miss, but I see it. Probably because I’ve learned how to look for it. There's the lightening of his eyes and a very subtle twitch of his lips, both of which tell me that he’s amused.

  “Adult diapers? Really?”

  “Sexy, right?”

  He makes a soft snorting sound, not so different from Gumbo’s oink. Only Liam’s is more like a chuckle. A muffled, begrudging one.

  “I would kiss you right now just to prove a point, but you’re holding a pig and we’re standing over a dead body, so what’s say you call Clive and we can take this up at a better time?”

  I gnaw on the inside of my cheek as I debate how to handle his suggestion. Turns out Liam knows me as well as I know him, though, which means he knows something’s up.

  He crosses his arms over his chest and sighs. “All right. What is it? What’s the catch?”

  “Catch?”

  “Yeah. What’s with the body?”

  “How am I supposed to—”

  “You know something.”

  “No, I don’t. I didn’t—”

  “Liar. Out with it,” he interjects.

  “What makes you—”

  “You do this adorable thing with your face when you try to lie.”

  I’m incensed. “What? Since when?”

  “Since always.”

  “I most certainly do n—”

  “You most certainly do.”

  “Then I’ll stop.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  “I will.”

  “You won’t. You can’t. You’re just not a good liar.”

  “Then I’ll learn.”

  At this, Liam shakes his head. “Who in their right mind wants to learn to be a good liar?”

  “A lot of people.”

  “Like who?”

  “Con men. Spies. Husbands.”

  “Husbands?”

  “Of course. None of them want to spend time in the doghouse because they can’t pull off a convincing ‘no’ when their wife asks if a dress makes her look fat.”

  Liam actually grins as he reaches out t
o brush a hair away from my cheek. “Then I’ll be safe because you look edible in everything from muddy jeans to a dress that’s ripped up the back.”

  My heart trips along for a few wild beats before it settles back down.

  Wait, what?

  Stop the press.

  He’ll be safe?

  Does that mean he’s actually thought about being married to me? Or did I totally take that the wrong way?

  I probably did, but part of me wants so, so badly to poke and prod into this conversation a little more to find out for sure. I mean, what if I didn’t misunderstand? What would that mean?

  It gives me a hot flash just thinking about it.

  Unfortunately, before I can think of a circumspect way to dig that information out of him, Liam has already moved on.

  “So, are you gonna tell me what you know about this guy?” Liam tips his head toward the lifeless body of my ex, who’s still dead and still lying disturbingly close.

  I shake my head to get my thoughts back to the more important issue of the moment. “Oh. Uh, right. He’s… Uh, he’s... I know him.”

  Liam’s brows draw together and down. This frown isn’t his usual trademark grouchy one, but more one of confusion. “You do?”

  I nod. “I do.”

  When I don’t offer anything more, Liam prompts, “Well? Who is it?”

  I wrinkle up my nose and squint my eyes when I reply. “Uh, my ex-boyfriend, Gavin.”

  “Gavin? The one that tried to kidnap you?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “You never gave me details. What happened?”

  “I don’t think he meant to do me any harm, really. He just wasn’t good at taking no for an answer.”

  “What did he do?”

  I can’t help cringing. I know how this is going to sound. “He put duct tape over my mouth and around my wrists and ankles and stuffed me in his trunk.”

  Liam’s eyes narrow and his jaw knots up so hard, it looks like granite. “So, he took you?”

  “Yeah, but not far. Regina was coming out of Wally World when he tore out of the parking lot. When she saw I wasn’t in the car, she followed him.”

  “It’s a good thing she did. It’s hard to tell what he might’ve done to you if he’d gotten away with it.”

  I wave him off, but my fingers are trembling the slightest bit. “Ah, I wasn’t worried.”

  Only I was.

  I had a very healthy fear of Gavin after that. It’s not that I think he would’ve hurt me on purpose, but he wanted me to the point that he might’ve hurt me accidentally. That was when I really learned to be careful about my “blessing.”

  Liam is quiet for about a half a second and then he puts two and two together. “Is this what Clive was asking you about?”

  “Yeah. How’d you know?”

  “I could tell by your body language that you were uncomfortable, defensive.”

  “I wasn’t defensive.” Liam tilts his head and just stares at me until I admit, “Okay, fine. I was defensive. His family reported him missing. They said he was coming here, and they insinuated to Clive that I might have reason to want to hurt him.”

  “No one would blame you for that, not after what he did to you.”

  I’m taken aback. “I still didn’t want to hurt him, for Pete’s sake.”

  “Why not? I do.”

  “Yeah, but you’re all violent and manly and argumentative. I’m more of a make love not war kinda girl.”

  Liam’s rolls his eyes briefly before asking, “So what happened after Regina followed you?”

  “He saw her following him and pulled over. She got out and walked to his car, and when he rolled down his window, she sprayed him with pepper spray. Then she reached in, got the keys, let me out, and we left.”

  “Then what?”

  “I moved.”

  “You moved?”

  “Yeah. Here.”

  “Did you file a report?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Since Beebee’s blessing made it pretty hard for him to resist me, I figured it wasn’t entirely his fault. I mean, what’s a guy to do against that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Not try to kidnap you would probably be a good place to start.”

  “You say that because you didn’t fall under my spell.”

  “There is no spell. And there’s definitely no excusable reason for a man to try to take what he wants when a woman isn’t willing to give it.”

  Liam’s nostrils are flared and there’s practically smoke coming from his ears. It makes me want to grin in pleasure, but something tells me he wouldn’t appreciate my humor at the moment.

  “Look, I thought the best thing I could do would be to just…leave. Remove myself from the situation. And from his temptation. And it was working just fine until Thanksgiving. I don’t know what happened to make him start this up again.”

  “Whatever it was, someone else decided to finish it.”

  “Clearly, but it won’t look good on me.”

  “This is just circumstantial.”

  “But when do a few circumstantial things start looking like more than a coincidence?”

  “What other things?”

  I hold up my free hand and start ticking off pieces of damning evidence. “His family knew he was coming here looking for me, they haven’t heard from him, reported him missing to our local authorities, he’s dead behind my house, he’s wrapped in Christmas lights that match the ones I ordered, and, lucky me, I’m the one who found him. Not to mention the fact that, yes, he tried to kidnap me. That’s one heck of a motive to snuff this guy.”

  “Snuff him?”

  Liam’s trying not to laugh again, which only irritates me. My jovial mood evaporated in the face of all those terrible factoids. It even sounds bad to my ears, and I know I’m innocent!

  “Let that laugh out and I’ll snuff you,” I threaten with eyes slitted on him.

  “God, you’re cute,” he muses.

  “And you’re infuriating. Why are you grouchy when I want you to be playful and playful when I need you to be grouchy?” I demand petulantly.

  “You actually want me to be grouchy?” he asks in consternation.

  “Right now? Yes! I need you to be the stern, serious one who assures me that this is crapola and you won’t stand for it. Promise me justice or revenge or something. Just don’t be all sexy and charming. I can’t take it!”

  The last comes out in a voice that’s rising with my level of hysteria. I don’t think I fully realized how bad this looks until I took the time to point it all out to Liam.

  And man, it looks baaaad.

  Liam steps closer to me and sets his big hands on my shoulders, bending until he’s eye level with me. “We’ll get to the bottom of this. I promise.”

  His tone is low and earnest and velvety. His expression is solemn, but not grouchy.

  This is new.

  I pull my face a couple of inches away from his to glare at him. “What’s this?”

  “What’s what?”

  “What’s this that you’re doing?”

  “I’m reassuring you. Like you wanted,” he explains.

  “No, this isn’t what I wanted. This is trickery.”

  “It’s not trickery. I’m telling you that everything will be okay, that I’ll help you.” He says it like he’s telling a small child for the fifth time why it’s necessary to floss.

  “Yes, but where’s the Liam grumping and grousing? That’s what I need. It’s comforting and familiar. This…this…sensitivity is weird.”

  One side of Liam’s upper lip curls up in distaste as straightens away from me. “It’s weird for me, too. I’ve never had to reassure you before. I’ll admit it’s freakin’ me out a little.”

  My mouth drops open. “Freaking you out?”

  “Of course, it is. You’re lucky. And you’re also Lucky. Capital L. You’re always the one telling everyone else it’ll be okay, and you’ll figure out who di
d it and you won’t rest until bad guys are put in jail, blah, blah, blah. All that vigilante crap. You’ve never needed me to do... this.”

  “You’re really weird. You know that, right?”

  He snorts in derision. “I think that falls into the ‘pot calling the kettle black’ category.”

  I spin away from him, groaning as I do. “What am I going to do?”

  “You’re going to go back to the house and pretend nothing happened. Let me take care of this.”

  I turn and meet his eyes, now dark and stormy. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to talk to Clive. He’ll keep a lid on this for us. You know he will.”

  “I hate to bring him into this, though. I’d never forgive myself if I got him into trouble.”

  “You ask him to do questionable things for you all the time,” Liam points out.

  “Yeah, but it’s always in the name of justice. For others. I’ve never asked him to cover for me. Like for me.”

  “You asked him to cover for me, though.”

  “Yeah, but I’d do anything for you,” I respond before I can think better of it. When I realize what I said and how it probably sounded, my cheeks stain with color.

  Before I can stammer my way through a terrible lie to try and save face, Liam is gripping my chin between his thumb and forefinger and staring down into my eyes.

  “Just like I’d do anything for you. So just trust me, okay? I won’t let you down. You have my word.”

  This time his promise does what it should’ve done the first time if I weren’t such an oddity. It gives me comfort. Great comfort. Soft, squishy, warm comfort.

  And I melt. So much so that my knees literally feel weak.

  “Liam?” I ask up into his handsome, handsome face.

  “Yeah?” he whispers.

  “I know there’s a dead body right there, but will you kiss me?”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” he says, dipping his head and sweeping his lips over mine.

  Between us, Gumbo squirms and gives a gusty snort. I pull back so as not to squash him.

  “Liam?” I say again.

  “Yeah?” he repeats.

  “Will you kiss Gumbo, too? I think he feels left out. Just a little peck.”

  As sweetly and sincerely as he did with me, Liam answers. “Not even if you asked me while you were buck naked.”