Bless Your Heart

by Kimbra Swain

“Grace, they probably have a thermal camera and know there is someone else in the trailer besides you and Levi,” he said, standing back in the darkness of my room.

  “Well, I’ll have you know that I have men over all the time. So, it could be any one of my lovers. Besides, if your puny department has a thermal camera that is beyond creepy,” I boasted.

  “Liar,” he said.

  “Are you stalking me, Dylan?”

  “Maybe,” he laughed.

  Something caught my eye out the window. “What the hell is that?” I said looking across the street at the dumpster. Then I saw the orange flame of a smoke and knew the pig had returned. “I have to take the garbage out.”

  “I’ll get it, Grace,” Levi said.

  “No, Chris is out there,” I said.

  “You can’t leave the trailer,” Levi said.

  “He’s right,” Dylan added.

  “I thought, I told you to shut up!” I yelled at him. He threw his hands up in surrender.

  “I’ll go see what he’s got,” Levi said, pulling the bag out of the trash can.

  I watched him cross the lawn, nodding at the unmarked car across the street. He paced to the end of the row of trailers, then tossed the bag into the dumpster. Chris walked out of the shadows and handed him a smoke. He lit it for Levi as they talked for a minute. As I paced the floor, I chewed on my nails which I didn’t normally do. This whole mess had me completely worked up.

  “Grace, calm down,” Dylan said. I realized that Dylan Riggs also knew that I didn’t chew my nails.

  “I swear to all that is right and good in this world, if you don’t shut up…” I paused.

  “What? What are you going to do?” he laughed.

  “I owe you a hex as it is,” I said.

  “You could just make out with Levi again,” he joked.

  “Ugh!” I roared in frustration. As I reached up to the liquor cabinet, he stepped out of the bedroom, grabbing my hand.

  “No, Grace, don’t,” he said. His hand felt warm, and I fought the urge to fall into him. I don’t know why I fought it. It just seemed like that was what I needed to do. He released my hand as he watched me struggle. “I’m sorry.” He backed into the bedroom once more.

  Levi came in the door and saw me standing there confused. He closed the last of the blinds in the living room. “You can probably can come out now,” he called to Dylan.

  Dylan stepped back out, ushering me to my recliner. I sat down because my head was in a fog. A Dylan Riggs fog.

  “What did he find?” Dylan asked. He knew I dealt with Chris from time to time.

  “I don’t want to ever see you smoking again,” I scolded Levi randomly. He tilted his head sideways and looked at Dylan who shook his head warning him not to ask.

  “Okay, but it was just to make the conversation look natural. I almost gagged on the damn thing. I don’t smoke,” he explained. “Chris says we have the same enemy. He said he found tracks all over the area and this.” He pulled a shiny white canine out of his pocket.

  “Werewolf,” Dylan said.

  “How do you know that?” I said.

  “You’ve taught me more than you realize, Grace,” he laughed.

  “But who is it? It has to be Amanda,” I concluded.

  “Are you sure?” Dylan asked.

  “No, but we need to find out. My lawyer is checking into her background,” I said.

  “Well there is nothing else we can do for now. Come on, let’s go to bed. I’m sure you didn’t sleep in that holding pen,” he said.

  I absentmindedly gave him my hand and followed him to the bedroom. He shut the door as I sat down on the end of the bed.

  “My father came to the station,” I said in the dark.

  “I thought your parents disowned you,” he said.

  “They did, but about twenty years ago I was informed that my banishment was lifted. However, I stayed here,” I said.

  “Why wouldn’t you go home?” he asked, sitting down next to me.

  “By that time, I’d met Jeremiah, and I liked chasing down the bad guys. I didn’t want to go home anymore. It didn’t seem like home,” I said.

  “I’m glad you stayed,” he said placing his hand in mine again. He ran his fingers in and out of mine. His hands felt worn with years of work like Levi’s, but they were warm.

  “I did it for you,” I finally admitted. “This world needs more good cops and less bad ones like Amanda.”

  “She’s just doing her job,” he whispered in my ear. A tingle rushed down my body, and chill bumps rose up on my arms. I shivered at the sensations. “What did your dad say?”

  “He tried to get me to come home. That’s all.”

  “You should go and be with your family,” he whispered.

  “My family is here,” I replied.

  “Tell me what to do. I’ll do whatever you say,” he said.

  “You can’t even keep your mouth shut when I ask you,” I scolded him. “And don’t you drop some cheesy line that you think will get me to kiss you.”

  He laughed quietly. “Okay, fine. No cheesy lines.” He moved to me quickly, and his lips found mine in the dark. My body erupted with desire.

  “No, please stop, Dylan,” I said pushing him away lightly.

  He groaned, “Why? What now, Grace?”

  “I can’t,” I said.

  “Why because of your stupid rule about dating?”

  “No, because I don’t know how to feel what you are feeling. Anyone could touch me like that and make me want to rip their clothes off,” I said. “You should know. We’ve been there, done that.”

  “Heh, I thought you liked me,” he sounded hurt.

  “I did for that night. To commit to anything more, including just one more romp, wouldn’t be fair to you,” I said.

  “I’m the one that decides that,” he said. “Besides, I could have sworn that you felt something more that night. You feel something now, but you won’t admit it.”

  “Part of my nature is to please my partner as much as myself. It’s like that with whoever I’m with,” I said.

  “I’m not special is what you are saying,” he concluded.

  “No, I don’t mean it harshly. I just don’t know how to feel anything else,” I admitted.

  “You should listen to Levi,” he said.

  “Oh yes, there’s my expert,” I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “Then listen to me. Love is when you make out with a guy in a parking lot to save a man’s job. It’s when you force him to leave you in a nasty jail cell and break his heart for his own good. It’s utter disregard for yourself, because you care that much about someone else,” he said. “That’s love, Grace.”

  “Love would be pulling this monitor off my ankle and high tailing it to another trailer park in the middle of nowhere. You could find a nice girl that would settle down with you,” I said.

  He laughed and shook his head, “No, it’s staying even though you know the best thing is leaving.”

  I melted into him, and he wrapped his arms around me. “You know, I was thinking I could start a private investigator firm. You could work with me,” he said randomly. When I’d talked to him about settling down with Stephanie, I knew he was the type. This was his angle to get me to settle down with him.

  “What are you babbling about now?” I said into his chest.

  “Just random thoughts. Part of my resignation was that they left no black marks on my record. I could easily complete the state tests and open a firm. We would make a great team,” he said.

  “We can’t do that here,” I said.

  “Hell no, but there are trailer parks all over Alabama,” he boasted.

  I laughed at him. “Maybe,” I said.

  “Maybe?”

  “I have a wolf to catch,” I said.

  “I’ll help with that too,” he said. “How do you kill them?”

  I started to explain the finer points of lycanthropy. He told me everything about the investig
ation into who killed the children and the cooked-up evidence against me. He turned off the lamp, and we talked about the creepy crawlies until I fell asleep curled up next to him.

  There is a sinking feeling when you wake up alone in a bed, and you knew that you went to sleep with someone in it. I had a small rush of panic, then told myself it was better that Dylan left. The longer he stayed here, the more ruin would come upon him.

  Then I heard him and Levi in the kitchen cooking. They were talking about college football. Football is a religion in these parts. From little league, to high school to college, the small-town folks of this state lived and breathed football. You had to choose sides, because there was no middle ground.

  When I first moved here, everyone wanted to know if I was related to Coach Bear Bryant. Hell, I didn’t know who he was, but I do now. I tell them yes now that I know. Street cred.

  It’s ironic that my father’s name means royal bear, and it was the reason I chose Bryant as a last name. My father is Oberon, king of the Otherworld. Seeing him yesterday rattled me. I missed my Daddy, but it didn’t erase that he allowed me to be banished. He was the king. He could have done something. Instead, he sent me away. I had no intentions of ever going back to the Otherworld.

  He tracked me through my lawyer, Demetris Lysander, and through my use of magic by pulling power from the Otherworld through the trees on this earth. I could open a portal to there through the trees, but never needed it.

  I realized it was Saturday as I listened to the guys talk. They were talking about the best teams. Levi insisted that all the best teams were in Texas, but Dylan boasted of national championships for the college team nearby. I recalled a certain Saturday a few weeks ago that wouldn’t leave my mind.

  I wandered into The Hot Tin Roof Bar in exotic downtown Shady Grove, Alabama. In full blown predator mode, I wore black high heel boots that stretched up over my knees. My black mini skirt dress barely covered my ass, and the top of it sagged in the front giving the world the full side boob with no bra. I wore a lariat necklace to draw attention to it. I sprayed on vanilla perfume hoping someone would offer to take a bite. Living up to my billing, red lipstick completed my trailer tramp look.

  When I entered the bar, the reaction was the same as always. The women look like they’d eaten horse shit, and the men gawked as their pants got tight. I smiled, strutting up the bar to show them all the things they would never be. I rarely flaunted my fairy body, but tonight I planned to flaunt it to whoever would look. I leaned a little on the bar, watching the men’s heads tip sideways to see if they could see straight up to the Promised Land. “Nestor, pour me a couple.”

  Nestor Gwinn owned the Tin Roof and was always kind to me. It didn't matter where I saw him in town, he always made a point to speak. He was average height with tanned skin. He was rather plain looking, but had a friendly face. His striking feature was a long mane of silky black hair. He wore it tied back most of the time, but I knew women that would kill for hair like his. “Afternoon Grace. Did you watch the game today?”

  “Hell no, Ness. You know I couldn't care less,” I said, slamming down both of the tequila shots with no chaser. “Pour me two more.” He shook his head, but obliged me like a good bartender. He knew my routine.

  I sauntered over to the jukebox, overhearing a couple of the women use the normal terms of whore and slut. I really didn’t care tonight because I had one purpose. I was lonely and needed a warm body. This town had slim pickin’s.

  “Hello, Grace,” a low voice said from the table to my right. I turned to lock eyes with Mr. Sandy Hair.

  “Hello, Dylan. How are you this evening?”

  “I’ve been better,” he said. As I turned to look at him, I realized his blue eyes were dulled and bloodshot.

  “Good grief. Sheriff, are you drunk?”

  “Not yet,” he grumbled.

  “What the hell happened to you?” I turned, leaning back on the jukebox with my arms crossed.

  Earlier in the day I had helped him locate an older fella who wandered away from his caretaker. Thankfully we found him down by the creek. I remembered our conversation about his girlfriend, and as I suspected things hadn't gone well for him.

  “Come here. Let me buy you a drink. A thank you for your help today,” he said.

  I walked over to his table, leaning over it. His eyes went straight to the goods, but only for a second, then he looked away. “Damn. Really? What the hell is wrong with you? Every time I see you, you flirt with me. Now you can’t even give my tits a good look,” I laughed at him, but he didn’t seem amused at my boldness.

  Walking back over to the bar, I slammed two more shots. “Just give me a Crown,” I told Nestor. He poured one on the rocks, and I joined the party pooper.

  I sat in the chair across from him, taking a sip of the amber liquid in my glass. He was peeling the label off a Bud Light. Nasty piss water beer.

  “You were right about Stephanie,” he said.

  “What about her? Dylan, did you propose to her?” I asked. This afternoon I told him to shit or get off the pot. Apparently, he shitted.

  “Let’s just say she’s packing her stuff to leave. Hey Ness, give me something stronger,” he called out to Nestor who promptly brought him a matching glass of amber goodness.

  I held up my glass to him and reluctantly, he clinked his with mine. We both took a sip, then he asked, “What did we toast to?”

  “Bowel movements,” I said. He chuckled.

  “Damn, Grace. You are so vulgar,” he smiled.

  “I have not yet begun to be vulgar. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry it didn’t work out. Five years is a long time to end up with nothing but a broken heart,” I said.

  “My heart isn’t broken,” he said.

  “Sure, looks broke to me,” I said.

  “Trust me, it’s not. I’m just realizing how stupid I’ve been,” he said.

  “That’s an epiphany,” I said. “Deep thoughts by Dylan Riggs.”

  He laughed again. “I should thank you,” he said with a little light in his eye than when I first saw him. “So, did Jeremiah let you off your leash?”

  “That’s rude, Dylan. Jeremiah Freyman does not dictate my sex life,” I said.

  “He told me that he regulates you,” he said. Dylan and Jeremiah having a casual conversation about my sex life was not what I wanted to think about right now.

  “Can we not talk about this here?” I asked, because I didn’t want to go into depth about my contract with the Sanhedrin in this seedy bar.

  “I’m sorry. Just all very curious to me. But clearly you are the predator here, who is the prey?” he asked.

  “I haven’t decided, because basically any one of them will do. I just need a release,” I said staring at my prospects across the room. Dylan knew who I was, so I didn’t try to hide anything from him. I considered him a colleague and a friend.

  “Why don’t you find a nice guy and settle down?” he asked.

  “You know why I can’t do that! I don’t want to be a trophy wife to an aged fucker that takes a blue pill to get it up while I live on, carrying the libido of a rabbit. Besides the Sanhedrin don’t take kindly to cavorting with mortals,” I explained quietly. “It’s better if I do it this way.”

  “Sounds lonely,” he said.

  “Incredibly,” I replied as I finished off the Jack. “But now, you’ve blown my stride. I’m gonna go home and try again tomorrow or something. I am sorry about Stephanie. Is there anything I can do?” I asked.

  His flashy smile spread across his face, “You could do a lot of things for me, Grace.”

  “Oh, no. I didn’t mean that. I meant like cook you some soup or something,” I replied.

  He stood up. He wore dark denim jeans, a brown belt, cowboy boots, and a crimson button-down shirt. “Dance with me, Grace.” He held out his hand.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Dylan. I’m going home,” I said.

  “No, you aren’t. You owe me. I went home and confronte
d her because you told me to. Now you are going to have to do something for me. Dance with me,” he said.

  “Aw, hell, you mother fucker,” I said. Giving him my hand, he pulled me to my feet. Nobody else was dancing, and it felt awkward. All these women knew Stephanie. I bet, none of them knew they broke up.

  He released my hand, and I laid them both on his chest. He locked his hands behind the small of my back, pulling my body to his. I’d been around Dylan a lot over the last few years, but we’d never so much as hugged. I thought I’d be nervous, but it just turned me on. Fucking fairy hormones.

  “Thank you, Grace,” he said in my ear.

  “For what? I’m just dancing with you because you made me,” I said.

  “I couldn’t make you do anything. You are doing it, because you wanted to dance with me,” he laughed as his breath flirted with my neck. We swayed to the sappy country song was playing on the jukebox. His kissed the edge of my jawline very lightly, and the fairy inside me flapped her wings, somersaulting in my ovaries. Fairies don’t really have wings, but in this world on cartoons, they did. I decided the one inside me had sparkling Tinkerfuckingbell wings. He smelled like musk, beer and peppermint, turning my man seeking senses into overdrive.

  “Dylan, I don’t want you to kiss me,” I said, trying to convince my fairy side.

  “I wasn’t. You just had something on your face right here,” he said as he brushed my cheek again.

  “That’s lame, Dylan. You better stop,” I teased.

  He moved his head so that his cheek would brush past mine, and I could feel just a hint of stubble. My skin erupted in goose bumps, and I tried to back away from him.

  “No, please, don’t. I’m sorry. I’ll stop,” he said pulling me back to him. There was a desperation in his pull, so I relented. Again. No matter how desperate the fairy inside of me fought, I did not want to corrupt Dylan Riggs.

  I leaned back, looking at him, “Dylan, a night of meaningless sex isn’t going to make you happy. You should go home and sleep.” I was serious because I knew he’d just ended a long relationship. He was looking for validation, and I didn’t need to be the one to provide it. Even if I wanted to be the one to do it.