Controlling the Elements

by N. R. Spratlin

  “I heard it does do well for headaches, so I figured I would try it out. Thank you for confirming to me that it might help ease them.” I smile as best as I can to the woman, I shuffle from foot to foot feeling anxious, wanting to turn around and get back to watching Dillon. This is why I like to work alone, no distractions.

  “Oh honey, no get the extra strength which is here,” she then proceeds to promptly bend down; in what I am assuming was to show off her ass in her tight fitted yoga pants. I stand and as calm as I can, wait out her helpfulness. I know the guys would give me hell about this later, but I’m thankful they accepted how single minded I become when I’m in my zone.

  “Here you go,” she hands me another package giving me a huge smile.

  “Thank you, I hope this will do the trick,” I smile back at her while placing it in my basket. I make sure my body language shows that I’m about to leave. However, the sly woman puts her hand on my forearm to stop me.

  “You might also want to try a cup of Gatorade, too. Also, essential oils seem to help me through my stress headaches.” She looks up at me and bats her eyelashes.

  “Uhh..” I say, not really knowing what to do. I keep shuffling from foot to foot. Looking longingly up the aisle, where is Dillon gone to now? I’m beginning to feel awkward. I do not, and I repeat, do not know how to handle flirting. That is one puzzle I refuse to even approach.

  “Ah, thank you,” I reply finally able to find my words. I move my arm away from her hand, “I will definitely have to look into that.”

  “Well, I sell essential oils as a side job, so if you want you could come over for dinner one night and I could teach you the benefits of going natural in your remedies.” She suggests coyly as she proceeds to wink and flick her platinum blonde hair off her shoulder. The full effect of her flattery towards me pushes her hardly concealed fake breasts in my face.

  Ugh, she winked. At me. Actually winked! Shit, she has me by the balls. How in Hades am I going to get out of this? I begin to back up a bit until I feel the base of my back come in contact with a shelf, I frantically look around for an escape. I hate feeling trapped, or being backed into a corner.

  Just then I see Dillon make her way up another aisle in produce and stop to look at what appears to be a bag of potatoes. I smile inwardly as I look back at the women. Thank you, Dillon, I square my shoulders; a brilliant idea comes to me.

  “That is such a nice offer, but I am afraid my girlfriend is a bit protective,” I say in my most apologetic voice as I tilt my head, nodding towards Dillon’s general direction.

  She follows my line of sight and I see her visibly deflate when she takes in all of what is Dillon Danvers; a natural beauty. If I was a girl I would back down too. Dillon has everything a girl could envy physically, but the mystery to her is what keeps me intrigued.

  “Well, she’s a lucky girl.” She mumbles, shrugging her shoulders and taking a step back. Well, she gave up easy.

  “Actually, I am the lucky one. She keeps me on my toes.” In more ways than this woman would even know. I smirk and chuckle to myself.

  “But thank you for the advice I will take everything into consideration.” I tell her politely. My mother raised me right so isn’t like I could have just walked away from the help she thought she provided; it was the same as why the package of Pamprin was still in my basket.

  “Yeah, no problem,” she spouts off to me as I get a view of her backside, overtly sashaying away. Damn, I guess she wasn’t giving up that easy. I force myself not to roll my eyes. Seriously, women are the ultimate puzzle in life. I shake my head as I gather my stuff to head to the direction of my now ‘girlfriend’.

  I move my basket in front of my body to try and deter any more unwanted attention as I keep my eyes focused on Dillon’s movements. I wonder if she even realizes that she bites her bottom lip, just the slightest bit with her straight front teeth, when she is concentrating hard. I find that gesture endearing because I can relate to that level of deep thinking.

  As I’m approaching the orange section, just an aisle away from her, I notice she’s getting sidetracked and digging around in her purse. She pulls out her cell phone and checks it. A low tug in the center of my core keeps drawing me closer like a magnet pulling to its matching polar end, urging me to figure out more. By the time her face has lit up with a smile at whatever she has been looking at, I feel hypnotized. I do not understand how any of the guys could question her place in our group, this pull that I am feeling with her, it feels at least ten times stronger than what I felt with any of the others when I found them. I feel like a marionette, and the puppet master was urging me forward by the strings, controlling my arms and feet, for I was not in control on my movements. I know I should feel wrong and frantic by my lack of control, since I like to be in control over everything, but this just feels right. As my role in the group, the one that is responsible for gathering us together, I know she is our true missing piece.

  I hone on to Dillon, all other surroundings blur together, and the only thing in complete focus is her. I blink and come back to and realize not only am I standing behind Dillon, close enough that I can smell her coconut shampoo, but I am also peering over her shoulder looking at the cell phone screen, displaying a picture of a little boy, who is covered in paint.

  How did I get here so fast?

  My heart is beating out of my chest, like a bird wanting to be set free, her pull is strong.

  If I move half an inch my chest will be touching her back.

  I bit down hard on my lip, trying to stop the urge to do just that. I focus back on the picture. The little boy is sweet looking, if not a bit cheeky. He doesn’t seem upset in the slightest at being messy, with blue and yellow paint all over his face, arms, hands and clothes.

  No, he is proudly holding up a finger painting of what I would presume to be a beach with waves. I chuckle.

  Dillon’s shoulders stiffen, and I freeze. A moment too late I realize I have chuckled directly in her ear.

  Well, shit.

  I can’t back pedal fast enough before she is turning around, and literally colliding with my chest. My whole-body buzzes from the contact. Instinctively, I wrap my arms around her to brace her from falling to the ground. Nothing could have prepared me for the intense burning that pierced through the right side of my temples.

  It feels like someone has taken a cattle poker and shoved it inside my head to rearrange things. I somehow keep from doubling over panting from the heavy pain and weight crashing into my skull. I’ve never have felt anything like this before not even when I came into contact with the others. The sensation of static electricity travels up my arms and across my body. It doesn’t harm or shock me, just feel like its inspecting me and trying to see if I am a friend or a foe. Even though I still have such intense pressure burning inside my head I am fascinated with it.

  From deep within me a sense of rightness overflows to every organ, every muscle and every bone. My body hums happily. My pain almost feels insignificant when faced with this monumental moment.

  She’s it. We have found the missing link, our Manipulator. Life as we know it is going to change dramatically.

  During my mini brain fry, Dillon has gathered herself and pushed away from my now numb and tingling arms. I feel drained all of sudden, like someone had left my life source of a battery on all night to let it die. What in the name of Mother Earth was happening to me?

  “What is he starting at?

  Why in the hell is he so close to me?

  Why does it feel like I am going through another intense hot flash?

  Do I need my pepper spray?

  Am I truly going through menopause at twenty-five?”

  That last thought was enough to have me shaking my head which kick started my brain into action.

  I release a shaky breath. My whole body vibrates. “Oh I am so sorry; I was just trying to reach the potatoes.” I try and soothe her as softly as I can trying not to aggravate my headache any further. She looks
like she is full out panicking before me.

  “It looked like you were really focused on your phone, so I did not want to disturb you. I thought I could reach over you, but in the end I realized my mistake.” I tell her trying to pacify the panicked side of her leaking into my mind.

  To be honest, I did not mind her in there like I had thought. Her inner monologue feels like a piece of me that I had never known to be missing had been found. For the first time I feel complete. I watch her shoulders visibly relax and her grip on her purse loosen.

  “Oh, no that’s okay; I was just looking at a picture of my nephew.” She smiles up at me in response.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “Ow, shoot not again!” - Dillon

  Dillon

  Oh my, he is definitely cute, in that nerdy chic way. I especially love the way he keeps scratching the back of his neck. But his color looks off. He looks a tad paler than the white collar of his button up shirt, and he keeps wincing slightly as he now rubs his hands over his forehead he’s shaking slightly. The shaggy dark brown curls of his hair looks so soft I wish I could just….. Gah, snap out of it girl.

  I swear I don’t know what has come over me lately. I keep feeling this pull of attraction towards every guy I’ve encountered lately. This one though, is breath taking. He stands at about a head taller than me so I would guess six two or six three. His hair is a smooth rich brown that almost looks black now that I’m getting a closer look at it. He’s dressed in a white button down top with long sleeves. I can just about see some swirls of a black tattoo peeking out from around his wrist as his left sleeve has ridden up slightly from catching me.

  I continue my perusal and notice that he certainly fills out his dark slacks. I bite my lips as my mind wonders.

  Hmm, he’s so sexy. His legs look muscular and long. I so want to know the exact definition of his legs muscles. He’s like James Dean in a Rebel Without a Cause. He’s handsome as hell, but I bet there is a bad boy underneath all the exterior appeal.

  I start to lean towards him, he smells amazing, and I can almost soak up his scent. I could also picture wrapping my arms around his midsection, feeling his muscles, wondering if they’d be hard or soft. How it will feel with the protectiveness of his embrace. I imagine it would be like everything in the world can’t harm me.

  I swear I must be losing my mind, because each guy I have run into over the past weeks, I have felt like I needed to be near. This in itself is odd to me since it has been such a long time since any guy has captured my attention. Ever since I have become Lyon’s guardian nothing in my life has seemed to really matter except making his life the best it can be from here on out. I have this fear that I would jinx it by adding a guy into the equation. I mean, we were doing perfectly fine with just the two of us, so why did we need anyone else?

  I place the bag of potatoes in the cart and then turn back towards him. He’s looking down shuffling from foot to foot and from what I can see it looks like his cheeks are tinged pink despite the pale pallor of his skin. That’s weird because just a second ago he seemed so confident.

  “Well, I am sorry again for blocking your way from the potatoes, but thank you for saving my butt, literally, from falling.” I chuckle while trying to move to the side out of his way. He dips his head down and tries to step aside, but inadvertently steps into my path, so we wind up doing this weird shuffle side step dance.

  I look up and see the pink has crept to a more reddish hue on his pronounced cheekbones, I smile big at him. Somehow my gut is telling me this guy tends to cover up and hide his true side. I frown.

  How do I know that?

  From somewhere deep inside me I know it’s true. I somehow caught a glimpse of it. I swallow thickly, starting to feel claustrophobic.

  “Well, this is awkward,” He laughs softly and the smooth baritone drifts over my skin and sends a chill down to my bone. I find myself closing my eyes and taking a moment to relish in how it makes me feel; somehow it has managed to calm me down. When I open my eyes, his moss green eyes are locked on me. I gasp, taking a step back, my eyes wide. The top portion of his left eye has a segment of blue in the iris.

  His eyes are like mine! What is the likely hood that I would meet two other people with the same condition as mine when I’ve gone through all my child and adult life only knowing of me, Deacon and Lyon?

  My gasp and backwards step must have broken the spell because he shakes his head, then takes a step back himself, as if putting distance between us both. He pinches the bridge between his nose, breathing heavily, eyes flutter closed. My eyes follow his movements, unable to look away.

  It’s like that time at the bar the other night, I had no control over my body.

  I just have the innate need to memorize and catalogue every detail of this stranger. When he lets go I see an indentation of a bump on the bridge of his nose.

  He must wear glasses.

  I feel proud for some reason that I’ve just figured out a small mystery of this stranger.

  I wonder what he looks like with glasses on?

  I bite lip imagining how hot he would probably look. I shake my head trying to dislodge the image, taking another small step back just as he opens his eyes, turning his entrancing gaze on me once again. The back of my knees hits something, I come up short twisting to see what I hit; it’s the wooden crate that houses the potato bags.

  “Oh I should get out of your way, I am sorry.” I suddenly feel embarrassed because I don’t know how long I’ve spent staring at this stranger.

  “I am in no hurry,” he replies as he slightly quirks his left eyebrow up as if he’s trying to figure something out. It’s then that I feel like he is trying to figure me out. I don’t do well with any form of attention, so being the awkward me, I break eye contact finally move away from the crate.

  “Sorry again, I hope you have a good evening.” I say softly as I place my hands on the cool metal bar of the shopping cart, only to receive a nasty shock of electricity.

  “Ow, shoot not again!” I cry out and shake my hand in hopes to stop the zap from hurting.

  “Woah there seems like you’re carrying some static.” The handsome stranger moves towards me. I have a moment of freaking out where I am sure that my eyes are playing tricks on me. My pulse picks up; I can feel it in my throat and in my head. The pressure of it feels as if someone is beating a drum rhythm in the core of my body. The heat and rush of tingles start their slow march up my arms and I can feel the goose bumps rising. The stranger steps closer to me and it looks like the closer he gets to me the hair on his arms are starting to stand.

  I shake my head hoping to clear up this hallucination, but as soon as I focus back on his arm I see it again.

  Oh shit, is it possible to shock someone else as bad as I have been shocking everything in sight lately?

  My panic starts to build at a more rapid pace. I start to slightly pant, my breathing starts to become affected. It feels as if a boa constrictor has wrapped his strong body around my chest cavity and is now starting to squeeze the very breath from my lungs.

  Oh no no, not in public no please!

  I put a hand to my heart as if that alone can help my breathing. I wince as my chest becomes tight. I inhale and exhale quietly hoping it will help. The hot guy is now looking at me in pure confusion and I don’t blame him, I would look at me weird too. I need to get out of here fast. In my hasty decision to flee I walk back into the shopping cart which startles me.

  “Hey! Watch out!” the stranger darts forward with the intent on saving me again, but this time I know he won’t make it in time.

  I trip over my feet losing my balance and go sailing straight into a floral display of mini rose bushes. Well, great this couldn’t get any more embarrassing. I look over my limbs and around myself, trying to survey the damage. It looks like only two larger pots got sacrificed in my attempt at walking. I removed my hands from the soil of the over turned one by my hip and start brushing the soil off my forearm when the man bends
down to my level.

  “Are you okay Miss?” I can feel his eyes on me again, but this time I refuse to get locked into his trance.

  “Yeah, no worse for wear; well except for maybe my pride and clothes.” I chuckle trying to make light of the situation.

  “Well, if makes you feel any better, I don’t think anyone witnessed you go down beside me.”

  “Yeah, that kinda does actually” I pick up my phone which took the tumble with me and see a new shiny crack on it. “Oh great, I don’t have time to replace another one.” I mumble.

  “Here, let me see it.” He stretches his hand out to take my phone; though I am confused as to why I find myself handing it over anyway. He takes a moment and looks over the outside. When that seems to meet his inspection he flips it over and starts fiddling with the front.

  “It does not seem that you have done any significant damage to the inner boards, just cracked the screen. You can still use it and it’s actually quite easy to fix. Just order a new screen and look up the YouTube videos. They have some pretty easy step by step tutorials.” He finishes and smiles while giving me back my phone.

  “What are you some techie?” I ask him, curious as to how he knows about this.

  “Something like that,” He smiles secretly then stands back up brushing off this dark pants legs covered in the soil.

  “Well thank you, “I say earnestly as I look up towards him. He bends down at the waist and offers his hand to my again, this time to help me up.