Otterly Scorched

by Tara Sivec

  I laugh, even though there is nothing funny about lying to Harley, no matter how technical I was when I made my promises to her.

  “This was not a bad idea,” DJ continues. “That was a bad idea.”

  He points to the man currently stalking across the road toward us, the glow of a flashlight he holds under his chin highlighting the annoyance on his face.

  “Why are you still hiding over here behind this tree? Do I have to do everything?” Harley’s dad complains, throwing his hands up in frustration when he gets to us, indeed hiding behind a giant oak tree so no one sees us lurking in the dark.

  Ryan may live out in the middle of nowhere, but someone could still drive down this road at any time and see us. And even though the closest neighbor is down a bit, I can still see their house from here. Which means they can see Ryan’s. I’m not taking any chances.

  “You’re supposed to be setting up a field command, not standing here with your thumbs up your asses, talking about perfumes like you were doing when I left you here,” Charlie complains, shining the flashlight directly in my eyes.

  “It was scented candles, thank you very much.” I scoff, waving my hand in front of my eyes until he moves the flashlight away. “I’ll have you know, we finished talking about them ages ago. Deciding between huckleberry sugar blossom or sparkling citron and oak barrel vanilla was kind of time-sensitive if I wanted to use that 40 percent off coupon.”

  DJ grabs the flashlight out of Charlie’s hand and holds it under his chin.

  “I still think you’re making a mistake with the sugar blossom. It’s too soon for that. If you want a smell for Harley’s living room that says, ‘Yo. We’re committed and shit,’ go with the citrus and vanilla,” DJ states.

  I open my mouth to argue, when Charlie’s hands come up to smack both me and DJ upside our heads at the same time.

  “If you were gonna bring a fire captain with us, he could have at least made himself useful and brought one of his rigs. What good are you if we don’t get to use a fire truck ladder to breach the residence?” Charlie asks DJ after effectively shutting us up for a few seconds.

  “We’re not breaching a residence,” I remind him, rubbing the back of my head where he smacked me. “I am only here to look in some windows and see if my otters are in there.”

  “That’s also an illegal use of a government vehicle,” DJ adds, acting like everything we’re doing here tonight isn’t illegal.

  “Didn’t you serenade Phina outside of her house five years ago, standing on top of a fire truck you borrowed from work?” I ask.

  “There was no singing involved, and we’re talking about you here, not me. And you’re supposed to go find your otters, not stand here and hide behind a tree.”

  “I think you meant to say we.”

  “Oh no.” DJ chuckles, pointing between me and Charlie. “That’s for you guys to figure out and possibly spend some time in jail over. I’m just here to watch this shit-show happen live and in person. But seriously. Why is he here?”

  DJ points his thumb in Charlie’s direction.

  “I’m an asset to this goddamn mission!”

  “It’s not a mission. I literally just want to look in his windows.” I sigh, glancing at DJ sheepishly. “And he blackmailed me into bringing him tonight when he overheard me talking to you on the phone this afternoon.”

  “Don’t be such a big baby,” Charlie scolds. “This is the most fun I’ve had in ages. Like I’d really call Harley and rat you out. She’d just ruin our good time and make us go home.”

  She’s going to kill me.

  “I’m not kidding, you guys. I swear I just saw a UFO. Get down here with me and look.”

  All three of us glance over to where Davidson is lying on his back in the grass a few feet away, staring up at the night sky.

  “And what about that one?” DJ laughs.

  “That’s my fault,” Charlie admits with a sigh. “I didn’t realize he’d gotten himself locked in the trunk again and fell asleep until we got here. I told you all that banging wasn’t the tire iron rolling around back there. If we would have stopped a mile from the house like I said, we could have done something about it.”

  Bringing my hand up to my face, I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose, deciding to save my money and buy Harley an entire candle factory for having to deal with these two her entire life.

  I hear a crinkling sound and open my eyes to see Charlie holding a tattered piece of notebook paper between the three of us while Davidson continues to make grass angels a few feet away.

  “I’ve secured the perimeter of the scene. We can gain entry here, here, and here,” Charlie tells us, pointing to three different areas on what looks like a sloppy drawing he did of Ryan’s house while he was over there. “Per the briefing I gave you on the ride over, there are no known weapons inside the residence, but the two potential hostages make this a tricky situation. I’ve got a quick and dirty contingency plan, but we need to determine if we’ll have separate teams, where we’ll enter, and what coordinates we’ll use. I suggest we drill a small hole in the wall on the southeast side and use a pinhole camera to keep an eye on things, or use a distraction to draw out anyone who might be inside to a different location.”

  Snatching the drawing out of his hand, I crumble it up and shove it in my pocket.

  “We’re not breaching anything, and we’re not drilling any holes. I only let you go over there, because you said you would handle things.”

  “And I did handle things. Did you have a drawing to-scale of the entry points before I went over there? No,” Charlie argues.

  “By handle things, I thought you were going to maybe look and see if my otters were in there for me and save me the time. We’ve already been here too long, and Harley is definitely going to realize none of us are where we’re supposed to be soon.”

  Charlie waves me off with one of his hands.

  “I had one of my buddies call and pretend to have your otters in his possession. The address he gave her is an hour away, and she should be halfway there by now. By my calculations, we have about ninety minutes before she gets home. Time’s a’wasting!” Charlie states, clapping once before looking at DJ. “Tell me you at least brought a safety harness so he can repel from the roof and gain entry from the attic window.”

  “You sent her on a fake call? At 12:30 in the morning? Jesus, she’s going to kick my ass.”

  I consider calling this whole thing off again as I run my hand through my hair nervously. Harley and I are a couple now. She trusts me, she lets me take care of her, and she makes my life a whole hell of a lot better. Being with her fulfills me in a way I never even expected. And the sex? Jesus Christ… it’s incredible. I’m still trying to get the woman to at least admit she actually likes me as a person and not just the time we spend together. I’m falling in love with her, and she’s still scared to admit she likes me. Now it’s never going to happen by lying to her, sneaking around, and having her father send her on a wild goose chase. Well, a wild otter chase.

  But what if Chris and Lincoln are in that house? What if they’ve been in there all this time, and I’m right across the road from them? I can’t just walk away now.

  “She’s going to kick our asses regardless. We might as well make all this worth it and find your damn otters,” Charlie says, looking up and down the dark road uneasily, the pitch-black woods all around us suddenly seeming a lot creepier and more ominous than they did when we got here.

  “I still have a bruise from the last time she punched me in the arm when I pissed her off. I don’t wanna get punched again, you guys,” Davidson complains from the grass. “Okay, now that was definitely a UFO. I can’t believe you guys aren’t seeing this.”

  “Do you have any idea how mad she’s going to be when she gets to wherever you sent her and finds out it was a fake call?” I ask Charlie, my palms starting to sweat. “There won’t be enough frittatas in the world to make up for this shit.”

  “
At least you know how to cook, and you can butter her up that way,” Charlie complains, jumping and looking behind him when he hears a twig snap. “Do you think another party box would help? I just got in some tiny, taxidermy lizards I’ve been dying to play around with. Maybe she’d appreciate a whole Reptile Dysfunction box, with one of the tiny lizards holding a tiny bottle of blue pills. I don’t know; I’m just spit-balling ideas. Did you hear that? I swear I heard something again.”

  Charlie looks behind him once more, his nervous eyes scanning the woods on the other side of the ditch all around us.

  “You guys are ridiculous,” DJ says with a chuckle. “I can’t believe you’re all afraid of Harley.”

  “She could definitely dig a grave without breaking a sweat,” I tell him.

  “She knows the location of every swamp within a fifty-mile radius, in alphabetical order,” Davidson adds from his spot down in the grass.

  “I never should have taught her how to fire a gun,” Charlie mutters.

  “And I never thought I’d see a bunch of grown men all petrified of one woman.” DJ is still laughing and shaking his head at how ridiculous we’re being, when loud, sharp crackles and pops of electricity suddenly fill the quiet night—right next to DJ’s ear.

  Charlie and I startle with a jerk at the sound, but DJ dives to the ground, letting out a quick, ear-piercing shriek of fear as he covers his head on the way down. When the electrical crackles stop and the rural neighborhood goes quiet again, save for the croaking of bullfrogs and the chirping of crickets, Charlie and I point at each other at the same time. “It was his idea!”

  Harley quietly stands a few feet away, her beautiful yet highly annoyed face looking back and forth between Charlie and me, the stun gun still held firmly in her hand down by her side.

  “Wow. You really are scary,” DJ whispers, removing his hands from over his head and looking up at Harley from down on the ground, where he’s still lying on his stomach at her feet.

  “It’s nice to see you again too, DJ,” Harley says, taking a step back when he pushes himself up from the ground to stand.

  “Is that a new sweater? It looks stunning on you.” I smile.

  “Really brings out your eyes.” DJ nods, brushing the grass off his shirt.

  “It’s quite fetching.” Charlie winks.

  “Your ass looks fat in those jeans.” Davidson snorts.

  Harley brings the stun gun up higher and points it at me. “Dax Trevino. I cannot believe you. You promised you wouldn’t do this.”

  “Look at that?” Charlie whispers, leaning closer to pat me on the back. “She still knows your name. You’ll be fine.”

  I move away from Charlie and take a step toward Harley, even though she currently has a stun gun aimed at my chest, hoping she also remembers how well-fed and well-pleasured she’s been the last few weeks.

  Shit, what am I saying? I came so hard with that handjob she gave me the other night I saw stars and passed out for a few seconds. Maybe I can drum up some tears. She’ll feel bad for me, and she won’t leave me if I cry, right?

  “If I recall correctly, when I initially asked if I could do this, you said, and I quote, ‘Mmmm, pop tarts,’” I remind her.

  “I was under the influence of sugar, and that statement should be redacted from the record. You promised after I came out of my pop tart coma that you would not do this.”

  I take another step forward until the stun gun is pressed into my chest.

  Please, God, just don’t let me piss myself when she presses that button. Fuck, she smells good.

  “Laundry basket, picnic basket, dude!” DJ whispers from behind me.

  “I agreed not to break into Ryan’s house on Saturday and today is Friday,” I quickly blurt out.

  “That’s my boy,” DJ whispers his encouragement.

  Harley clearly does not agree with this technicality and just continues to glare at me.

  “Don’t kill him. He’s the one who stopped me from bringing explosives,” Charlie tells her, which just makes Harley push the probes of the stun gun harder into my chest.

  “Maybe not mentioning the explosives at all would have been a good idea,” I remind him out the corner of my mouth.

  “Dad, it is almost one in the morning. I understand why Dax is here, but what the hell are you doing here?” She turns her angry eyes away from me long enough to give them to her father.

  “I wanted to help. You never let me help with anything fun anymore,” he replies petulantly.

  “You take two naps a day.”

  “I close my eyes to think for two hours twice a day!”

  Bringing my hands up between us, I gently grab Harley’s face and turn it away from Charlie and back to me.

  “Please don’t be mad at me,” I plead softly. “The dog drop-off got switched to Sunday, and I should have told you that. I’m so sorry I did this behind your back, and I promise I will never keep anything from you ever again. Please don’t leave me.”

  Harley laughs, rolling her eyes when she finally drops the stun gun she’s been holding against my chest and shoves it into the holder that’s attached to the waistband of her jeans. Dropping my hands from her face, I shove them in my front pockets, keeping them close in case I need to quickly guard my nuts.

  “Did you honestly think I had no idea you guys might try something tonight?” Harley continues to laugh. “Why do you think I made Davidson hide out in my dad’s trunk all night and text me as soon as you guys left?”

  I look away from her long enough to see that Charlie has joined me in scowling at Davidson, who finally sits up in the grass to lounge back on his hands.

  “She promised not to give up Big-Kickin’-It’s location after he borrowed that dog for a few weeks.” Davidson shrugs. “I’m weak, you guys. I had to rat you out. For Big-Kickin’-It.” He kisses two of his fingers and raises them toward the sky, while I raise one of my eyebrows in surprise when I look back at Harley. She subtly shakes her head back and forth in a “definitely not gonna fucking keep that promise” way.

  “You almost got away with it until Dad had his idiot friend call me, pretending to be the one who had Chris and Lincoln,” Harley explains, looking over my shoulder at her dad again. “You know Kevin does that exact same, horrible, Yorkshire accent every time he comes over and tries to convince you to start watching Downton Abbey, right?”

  “Fucking Kevin,” Charlie mutters. “I told him to stick to the script, but he always has to improv.”

  Pulling my hands out of my pockets, I gently grab onto Harley’s hips, tugging her toward me until her body is pressed up against mine. Dropping my head down, I press my forehead against hers and speak softly.

  “Chris and Lincoln could be in there, Harley. What the hell kind of person would I be if I didn’t at least check it out? I promised you I would not break into their house, and I fully plan on keeping that promise. I just want to look; that’s it. They trusted me to take care of them, when the people before me did a shit job of it. I let them down once, and I’m not doing it again.”

  Harley doesn’t say anything when I finish with my plea, but she hasn’t reached for the stun gun again, so I pull my head back to look down at her, keeping my hands on her hips.

  “I can’t just sit by and do nothing when my babies could be this close. We made a plan, and even though it went a little off track, we have to see it through now. Everyone agrees I have to do this, right, guys?”

  I pause to look back over my shoulder to see Davidson quickly getting up from the ground, and Charlie and DJ starting to scatter.

  “Would you look at that? I forgot I had a dentist appointment,” DJ mutters, looking at his wrist where there isn’t a watch before taking off down the road toward where we both parked a quarter-mile away.

  “It’s one in the morning!” I argue.

  “I think I hear my mom calling,” Charlie says as he jogs around us and in the same direction DJ went.

  “Nana died fifteen years ago!” Harley als
o argues.

  “Oh look, a squirrel!”

  Sadly, Davidson really does see a squirrel and goes chasing after it down the dark road.

  When we’re alone, I lean forward and place a kiss on the tip of Harley’s nose before pulling back to look into her eyes. I can see she’s starting to relent, and I can’t give up now.

  “I’m sorry. I will never keep anything from you again. Ten minutes, tops. I made sure no one is home, and I’ll just take a quick look in the windows. No one will even know I’ve been here.”

  Harley is quiet again for a few minutes until she finally lets out a deep sigh, bringing her hands up between us to rest them on my chest. “You have to be as quiet as possible.”

  A huge smile lights up my face, and I give her a peck on the cheek. “You won’t regret this.”

  “I’m not kidding, Dax. No one can know about this. I could lose the business, and we could both go to jail,” she reminds me.

  “I promise. I will be as quiet as a mouse. No one will have any idea we were even here.”

  At this point in my relationship with Harley, and after the night I spent with her dad and brother, I should probably know that nothing ever goes according to plan.

  Right when Harley smiles at me, slides her hands around the back of my neck and clasps her fingers together, trusts me again that I won’t break any more promises to her, the formerly dark, quiet, rural neighborhood explodes into chaos. The loud, screeching alarm of a home security system suddenly starts going off, ruining the peaceful night and my reassurance to Harley that no one will have any idea we were here.