by Kimbra Swain
“I’m not leaving you out here. I’ll follow you home, but it would be easier if you just let me drive you,” I said.
“I’m covered in mud. I’m not getting in your car,” she replied.
“I can clean it out. It’s not a problem,” I said. It would be a bitch to clean out, but I’d do it. I’d do it just to see her cold, hard shell crack a little. The best I could tell, she had no friends. Only acquaintances. She lived alone except for the little dog. This was the first time in a year I’d ever seen her with a man.
“Dylan, please,” she said. Her eyes pleaded with me to go away. Her lip even quivered. I wondered if she was putting on a show.
“Grace Ann Bryant, you are under arrest,” I said.
“What!” she screamed. Her face contorted in several directions. “What the hell!”
“You have the right to remain silent, only I know you won’t. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. Just be glad it isn't the Sanhedrin court,” I said, taking out my handcuffs.
“Dylan Riggs, I will not let you arrest me today,” she protested.
“Do you want me to add resisting arrest to the charges?” I asked her.
“What charges!”
“Reckless endangerment. Trespassing. Destruction of property. Mud riding is very illegal, Grace,” I said. “Turn around and give me your wrists.”
“Oh, you have just been waiting for the day that you could say that to me,” she growled. “Just admit it, Dylan. You’d give anything to have a piece of me.”
She wasn’t wrong. “You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided to you. God bless him, whomever he turns out to be.”
“You will regret this,” she snarled as she offered her wrists to me. My stomach flip-flopped as I clicked the cuffs around her hands. I already regretted it.
“Do you understand these rights I’ve just explained to you?” I asked.
“Whatever,” she responded. I guided her to the back door of the cruiser, and gently placed her in the back of the car. I squatted down to look her in the eye.
“Knowing these rights, do you want to speak with me?” I asked.
“Go to hell,” she said.
“That’s what I thought,” I replied, slamming the door on her stubbornness.
“You are a fucking idiot, Riggs.” I cursed myself. She could blow this out of proportion if she wanted.
She sat in the back of the car as I drove to town. Never looking at me, she kept her eyes down or to the side. When I didn’t turn to go toward the jail, she flicked her eyes to me. I caught them for a second before she looked away again.
“Where are you going?” she asked. She almost sounded afraid. “Please don’t take me to them.”
“Them, who?” I asked because I was confused. I was just taking her home. An abuse of my power, but I figured I’d be forgiven for it.
“The Sanhedrin,” she said. “I had permission to go out.”
“I’m taking you home, Grace,” I said, astonished that she would think that I was taking her to be charged with a fairy crime. She must think the worst of me. She had to know they brought me here to keep an eye on her, but I’d sworn to never hurt her. She knew that too.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because you are too stubborn to ask for help,” I said. “Now, be honest with me. Did Joey Blankenship hurt you?”
“No,” she muttered as the tears started to fall again.
“If he did…” I started, but she interrupted.
“For the last time, he didn’t!”
“Alright. Then tell me why you are so upset. I’ve never seen you like this,” I prodded as we pulled in front of her trailer.
“It’s not important,” she muttered.
“Sure, it is,” I replied.
“It’s not,” she said. “Can I please get out now?”
“This is the last time I will ask, Grace. What is wrong? You can talk to me. We used to be friends,” I said.
“We were never friends,” she muttered. That cut me to the core.
“I’m the delusional one then,” I said.
“I can’t have friends,” she said.
“What?”
“You heard me,” she replied.
“Because of the Sanhedrin?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. “I’m not allowed to talk about it.”
I turned around to look at her through the glass. “I won’t tell. I swear,” I said.
She shook her head. “My desire for a friend doesn’t outweigh my desire to live,” she said.
“They would kill you for having a friend. For trusting me?” I asked. I knew the Sanhedrin controlled the Unseelie exiles that caused problems in the real world, but Grace had never caused a problem to my knowledge since I moved into Shady Grove. I was still confused as to exactly what my purpose was that they couldn’t do themselves. Clearly, they had her under their thumb.
“Yes.”
“But you can fuck Joey Blankenship?” I asked.
“Let me out, Dylan. Or take me to jail. I don’t care which,” she said.
“Help me understand,” I asked. “Let me help you.”
“No. If you get involved, they will cut you down, too,” she said.
“They could try,” I said. “Look. Your sex life isn’t my business, but I haven’t seen you with anyone since I moved to this town. Then I see you latch on to Joey at the Food Mart. The two of you made a mess of things along the powerlines, and then you leave barefoot and upset. I’m concerned. What did he do that pissed you off?”
“I’m not telling you, Dylan. So, forget it,” she said.
“Grace, we can sit here all night,” I said. “You will tell me what’s going on.”
“No, I won’t,” she said. She pushed on the door trying to get it open. I realized her cuffs were gone.
“What? Where are the cuffs?” I asked.
“On the floor. That shit doesn’t hold me,” she said with a smirk. “Let me out of here, or I’ll give you a reason to arrest me.”
“Fine,” I said. I opened the door for her, and she barreled into me as she flew out of the car. I backed away to let her fly to the safety of her trailer. “Grace, I’m sorry. I was just trying to help.”
“If you want to help me, cut my grass or something. Otherwise, leave me alone,” she said ducking into the trailer. I looked around at the grass. It did need to be mowed. So, I formulated a plan to get Miss Grace Ann Bryant to open up to me. I’d probably regret it, but that thing festering inside of me wouldn’t let go.