Taming the Beast: Eleven Paranormal Romances

by Alyse Zaftig

  “Your Honor, I hardly think that walking home after a few drinks while singing ‘God Bless America’ warrants a charge for disturbing the peace.”

  I stood in court attempting to defend my client, Joey Miller, but it wasn’t going very well.

  “Attorney Brennan can think whatever she wants, Your Honor, but to imply that her client was simply walking down the street minding his own business is a distortion of the facts. Mr. Miller was intoxicated, as indicated by his blood alcohol level—”

  “Your Honor, my client’s blood alcohol level should never have been tested. He wasn’t operating a motor vehicle,” I said, while Joey swayed next to me, eight hours after his arrest. I jammed my elbow into his stomach and hissed, “Stand still!” He burped, and the smell of his breath wafted toward me; I almost started swaying, too.

  “Sustained,” said the Judge.

  Thank God.

  Why the hell was the district attorney being so hard on Joey, anyway? Everyone in town knew that Joey had gone through a rough time, and could use a break. I looked at the DA and noticed her expensive suit, perfectly styled hair and $600 briefcase, and wondered how she managed all of that on a D.A.’s salary.

  “Your Honor,” the D.A. tried again, “Mr. Miller was screaming something that could generously be called ‘God Bless America’, and punching mail boxes at 1:30 in the morning. In addition, when the police arrived at the scene, he had his pants unzipped in an attempt to urinate in Mrs. Lee’s flower bed.”

  I tried to keep a straight face at this likely accurate description of events, and was about to interrupt when next to me Joey loudly said, “Hey I was only tryin’ to help out a neighbor, know what I mean, Judge?” I picked up my right foot and smashed my pointy heel down on the top of his sneaker. He yelled in pain, grabbed his foot and said, “What the hell, Rose?”

  “Stop it, Joey!” I whispered. “You only speak to the Judge when he asks you a question, so unless you want to get some jail time for contempt, be quiet!”

  I held my breath as the Judge looked at us silently, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose. “Contain your client, Counselor,” was all he said, before he went back to reading Joey’s arrest report.

  I glanced at the district attorney again and she looked amused. I decided I disliked her right then, as she gathered her papers to put them in her expensive briefcase. She acted as if the probable cause hearing was a slam dunk, and her work here was done. I had never been opposite her in court before, being that a probable cause hearing for a charge like Joey’s was way below her pay grade. I knew her reputation as being rather…difficult, and because of that, the D.A.’s office was understaffed. But, I was getting annoyed. And when I became annoyed, my secret became that much closer to being exposed. That could never, ever happen.

  “Your Honor, my client has gone through some personal struggles lately. Since this is a small town,” I said, with a pointed glance at the D.A., “all of us know his wife recently passed away. All of us know he lost his job at the mill, where he had worked for 23 years. All of us know his only child is in the Army, and my client worries about him as any parent would. Joey is a good man, Your Honor, and while I don’t excuse his behavior last night, I do think that there are extenuating circumstances that help explain what Joey’s state of mind was at the time. We’ve all had bad days, Your Honor. Joey’s had more than his share lately. I respectfully ask the court to show Joey some compassion, and drop the charge against him.”

  The courtroom was silent after my rather impassioned plea. The district attorney was now looking at me. I could tell because I saw her in my peripheral vision, but I refused to look over. I just stared up at the Judge, while the D.A. stared at me, and the Judge stared at the D.A. It was obvious that the Judge expected Expensive Suit to speak up, but she just kept staring over at me.

  The Judge sighed and said, “Well, I’m leaning toward giving Mr. Miller a break on this one.”

  “Please, your Honor, the defendant’s behavior rises to a chargeable offense,” Expensive Suit sputtered.

  “I disagree,” the Judge said mildly. “Your office has been pursuing some cases with more vehemence than necessary, in my opinion,” he continued, while Expensive Suit flushed a little.

  “If I drop the charge against him, will your client apologize to Mrs. Lee?” the Judge asked me.

  “Wait a min—,” Joey interjected, and I grabbed his left elbow, hard, to get him to shut up.

  “Yes, of course, your Honor,” I said.

  “Good. The charge is hereby dropped, and Mr. Miller is free to go.” The Judge stood up, the court officer called out “All Rise”, and the courtroom became animated once more. The D.A. looked hard at me for another moment, and her resentment about losing to me was palpable.

  I turned to Joey. “You’ve got to go home, shower, dry out.”

  “I know,” he replied sadly. “I guess I fucked up. Again.”

  “It’s okay, Joey. But the Judge may not be so lenient next time. Listen, call me and I’ll pick you up next time, okay? I’d rather be trapped in a car with you while you sing “I Will Always Love You” than try to get your ass out of trouble again.”

  He smiled. “What would I do without you, Rose?”

  “Spend a lot of time in the drunk tank is a safe bet.”

  Chapter 2

  Later that night I stood in the doorway of Scully’s Beer Shack.

  This place might be my own brand of hell.

  My heart raced, and I took deep breaths to calm down.

  Don’t lose control, not here. You’ve managed to hide it for so long.

  I moved just inside the door and stood in the corner, observing the crowd of people, almost all of whom I knew. I’m known for being, shall we say, distant and prickly, no pun intended. I’m rather proud of it actually, since I’ve worked so hard to cultivate it. Even so, I wasn’t eager to charge into the crowd.

  The noise in the bar was so loud it was causing a vibration inside of me from the combination of the music blasting from the juke box, to the yelling conversations in order to be heard over the blasting music, to the laughter and catcalls from one friend to another. I really didn’t want to be here, but a couple of my sisters had texted to tell me they would see me at Kelsey’s party, which was their way of informing me that I better show up.

  My sisters liked to try to force me to go out because I was, according to them, “socially awkward”, so it was unlikely that I would get a reprieve until one of them saw me here with her own eyeballs. What they termed socially awkward behavior was really me desperately trying to hide my “condition” for years. And they knew it. I considered leaving, but Kelsey had asked me to come. Since she was the only person outside of my family that I dared call a friend, I figured that I should make an effort.

  In this case, an effort meant coming straight from the office after a twelve-hour day, defending the various citizens of my hometown in their criminal cases. I was a brand new lawyer just getting my feet wet, and I charged a low rate, so the very people that sneered at me in The Shack were the first ones to hit me up when they were arrested for indecency or OUI.

  I dressed very conservatively, even by lawyer standards, because my secret forced me to. Because of that secret, I had decided long ago that it was best if men left me alone, and dressing conservatively was the best way to assure that happened. And I must say that it worked pretty well. Ever since that awful night in the backyard, I knew that I would never be normal. I would never be able to emotionally attach to a man.

  Unnoticed, I watched from the entryway as Kelsey moved around the various groups of people in the bar area of the Shack, laughing and making witty comments that made the groups respond with smiles and laughter of their own. She was blonde and petite, a pixie in a sundress, practically spreading fairy dust with her smiles. I had long since given up wondering why we were friends, and accepted that she had refused to go away when I had abandoned all of my other friends.

  We had grown up across the
street from each other, and even though I had five sisters she might as well have been my sixth. So when she had asked me to come to her impromptu gathering at the Shack earlier that day, saying she wouldn’t be able to have fun if she knew I was alone at home, I had agreed.

  Kelsey saw me and fluttered over. A few people gave me the hairy eyeball when they realized whom she was fluttering over to, but I was used to it. Nobody understood why Kelsey put up with me. In truth, neither did I.

  “Rose! You said you’d be here after work. It’s 8:30!”

  “That’s when work ended for me, Kelsey,” I said, as she dragged me by the elbow to the bar.

  She pushed her way through the crowd like a woman on a mission, and apparently the mission was to get me a drink, because she didn’t stop moving until my rib cage hit the bar with an audible thud.

  “Jesus, Kelsey!” I said, as I rubbed my stomach, dropped my briefcase at my feet and wondered how long this misery would last.

  “Two beers and two shots of tequila,” Kelsey said to Harry, the bartender. Harry had gone to high school with us, and never liked me. He smirked at me and said, “Gee Rose, slumming it with the little people these days, huh?”

  “How’s that community service going over at the town dump, Harry?” I replied, as people who apparently needed a drink right that minute jostled me from behind.

  He frowned, placed the drinks in front of us and said, “Bitch” under his breath as he walked away.

  I laughed, and with my mood much improved I clinked shot glasses with Kelsey, and downed the tequila. It burned, but I figured if I was forced to endure this place and these people for even a little while, I needed something to soften the hard edges. I had managed over the last six years to control my urges, but places like this didn’t help. So, I avoided them. I was a bit of a hermit, and I liked it that way.

  The crowd had thinned a little, so Kelsey and I grabbed our beers and turned to watch the room with our backs leaned against the bar. We saw my sisters Mae and Marissa enter the bar, and Kelsey called out to them.

  I watched as they took five minutes to walk across the same distance that I had just crossed in twenty seconds, because so many people stopped them along the way to say hello. They had blonde hair and blue eyes like all of us Brennan’s, but the similarities ended there. I was a monster, a vampire, a curse upon the world. The familiar shame swept through me.

  Mae reached us at the bar first, where she hugged Kelsey and then me, whispering in my ear as she did, “You couldn’t at least put your hair down?”

  I ignored that, and turned to get her a beer from Harry when she pulled the pin out that held my hair in place. I looked at her as my hair fell down and completely covered my face. I had a strong resemblance to Cousin It, I was sure of it.

  “Sexy,” she said, as she took my beer out of my hand instead of waiting for her own.

  I swept my hair off my face as Marissa walked up and greeted us all with kisses. When she reached in to kiss me she said, “Not that fucking suit again, Rose,” to which I replied that she was on her own to get a drink.

  She elbowed past me and flirted with Harry, while I rolled my eyes so hard I probably pulled a muscle. She ordered a round for all of us and instructed him to keep them coming. Smartest thing she’d said so far.

  We all did a shot and a pleasant buzz swept through me, and I thought maybe this night wouldn’t end in ruin after all.

  “Rose, we think you need a guy,” said Kelsey.

  There goes my buzz.

  I grabbed Mae’s beer off the bar and drank about a third of it before Marissa pulled it away from my mouth.

  “The fuck,” I said as beer dribbled from the bottle onto my blazer. I started to drink the beer again, determined to ignore this conversation. Marissa bent down and squeezed my kneecap, the only ticklish spot on my body. I laughed and then choked, and said, “If you’re trying to do an intervention, giving me booze probably isn’t the best idea.”

  “Not just a guy. A relationship,” Marissa emphasized.

  “I just got laid last week,” I said, even though they wouldn’t believe me. It was true, though.

  “Did you hear us say you need to get laid? You need a reason to only work eight hours a day. You need the stability of a relationship,” said Kelsey.

  “The stability of a relationship? Don’t make me laugh.”

  Kelsey knew that Scott had caused me to suffer quite a lot of pain. She thought it was emotional pain, though, when it really was physical.

  Well, maybe a small amount of emotional pain, too, my inner voice whispered.

  The responsibility for that pain rested squarely on me for picking him in the first place. If I hadn’t trusted Scott because I was so blinded by “love”, maybe my life would be normal. I had learned a valuable life lesson: don’t trust men. And before a month had gone by after he left me, I realized that a “normal” relationship wasn’t in the cards for me. Yes, I liked sex, even loved it sometimes, but that didn’t mean I needed a relationship to get it. I’d learned that lesson from Scott, too.

  Mae and Marissa looked at each other, communicating silently the way sisters could, and I knew they were worried I was about to blow my lid. I hadn’t earned my bitchy reputation for nothing. Apparently, Kelsey wasn’t worried because she said, “It’s been six years, Rose.”

  I turned back to the bar and signaled to Harry. I didn’t want to argue with any of them or storm out of the bar, especially not in front of all these people. I figured my best recourse was to get lit. Harry placed the booze in front of me silently this time, and I slammed back a shot without looking at my sisters or Kelsey.

  “I’m sorry, Rose,” Kelsey said softly. I looked at her and then at my sisters, and tears sprang to my eyes at the compassion I saw on their faces.

  Oh God, this was a terrible idea, coming here.

  My family was always trying to save me from myself. Didn’t they understand I couldn’t talk about this? I couldn’t talk about it with them or anyone else, and I never had during all these years.

  “Why would you bring this up now?” I said, as I glared at them. “You know how I feel about it, but you still bring it up all the fucking time! Life isn’t all rainbows and unicorns, and the sooner you realize that the better off you’ll be!”

  Kelsey looked shocked, Mae looked sad, and Marissa looked like she knew no matter what anyone said, I would never change. Sadly, I knew she was right. The people surrounding us openly watched now, and this only added to my anger.

  “We’re only trying to help you, Rose,” Mae said quietly, as she took Marissa’s hand and pulled her away into the crowd. Kelsey refused to look at me as she grabbed her beer and disappeared, too.

  Well, that’s just great.

  Now, I was three shots and almost two beers into a buzz that would inevitably leave me feeling even more alone than usual. I grabbed my beer again and started guzzling it.

  “Wow, having a rough night?” a male voice said next to me.

  I looked to my right and my buzzed brain registered that the voice belonged to an extremely sexy man that I had never before met. He was not a local. Of that, I was sure. I said nothing as I studied him. He was several inches taller than my 5’7”, had dark brown wavy hair that looked suitable for pulling, a nose that had most likely been broken a couple of times, the usual strong jaw that all handsome guys seemed to have, and eyes so blue that even I was a little stunned by them. Our eyes locked, and he smiled just a little, revealing a dimple in his cheek, completing the Sexy Guy Package.

  “Like what you see?” he asked.

  “Can’t come up with anything better than that, huh?” I said, disappointed, as I turned back to the bar and looked at my reflection in the mirror behind it. He turned to face the bar too, and we watched each other in the mirror.

  God, what a waste; sexy guys were always stupid.

  I looked away from him in the mirror and looked for my sisters and Kelsey instead. I felt badly about what I had said to them. Bu
t I wasn’t going to apologize. They knew not to go there with me by that point. I couldn’t see them, and wondered if they had left. Suddenly, I felt very alone. I could also feel that Sexy Guy still looked at me in the mirror.

  “Like what you see?” I said.

  “Not really,” he replied dryly, and I snapped my head to look at him.

  “Why are you dressed like that? Did you do it purposely, to age yourself about twenty years and turn guys off? Believe me, it’s working.”

  I stared at him, shocked that he would have the balls to talk to me like that. Nobody talked to me like that. Obviously, Sexy Guy had not been warned of my reputation. He continued very nonchalantly, as if he was commenting on the weather, “Even so, you’re very pretty. I just don’t get the clothes.”

  Anger, pure and one dimensional, washed away the pain of the past that always seemed to claw at my skin in an attempt for release. The anger pushed the pain down, and I was in my wheelhouse once again.

  “Why did you come up to me, then? If you’re looking for somebody to fuck, it’s not me, that’s for sure.”

  Sexy Guy laughed rudely. “I’m not looking to fuck you, don’t worry. I was trying to find a spot at the bar to order a drink, when you ran your friends off by being the bitch of the century. So, I stepped up next to you. Believe me, you are the most un-fuckable woman in this bar right now.”

  I flushed with embarrassment as people around us laughed loudly. Maybe Harry the bartender suddenly had ESP or something, because he placed another shot and beer in front of me and quickly backed away.

  I looked away from Sexy Guy and picked up my next shot with a somewhat shaky hand. The music, and the laughter, and the conversation in the bar made it easier to pretend to ignore him. When I didn’t respond right away, the people that watched us got bored and moved on.

  I drank the shot with a lot less enthusiasm than the last three, while Sexy Guy ordered a beer from Harry. I tried not to look at him in the mirror behind the bar, but I still ended up watching him pay Harry and leave a tip. The worst part of what he’d said was that it was true. He’d pegged me as a bitchy man-hater at one glance.