Page 39

Backstabber

I walk down the street with Jekyll, Hyde, and the dogs following along. Eurayle stayed behind with the boys. Prez is its favorite, and Eury rarely allows any of us to travel without an escort after the drug incident. My tryst with the Irishman was an anomaly that isn’t likely to be repeated. Both my companions and Edgar’s have been on high alert, as if they realize I was in danger and they weren’t around to protect me.

Of course, the boys would be a lot more worried if they’d seen the video feed of that shadowy movement in the yard last night. Their overprotectiveness is why I had Jackson’s people set them up to feed to an app on my phone. I didn’t want anyone reviewing a tape while I was out and deciding I’m in too much danger to live my life. I appreciate their concern, but I also know I’ve been trained to take care of myself.

“ Mow !”

Hyde’s cry draws my attention, and I watch as a group of women snicker in a closed circle in front of the diner. One of them turns her head, pretending to look past me for something, and I roll my eyes.

Women are the absolute worst with shit like that. The old ‘I’m not looking at you’ trick isn’t fooling anyone outside of an elementary playground, but we just keep doing it our whole lives. Freya forbid we just fucking ask someone whatever the hell it is we want to know. Shaking my head, I stride over to the group, feeling a rush of annoyance as they jabber loudly, as if they weren’t whispering about me from across the street.

“Hello, ladies. Can I help you with something? My name is Jolene Whitley. I don’t believe we’ve met.” The smile I plaster on is only for show. These women know something I don’t, and I’ll be damned if I’m not going to find out what it is.

They turn to look at me in unison like some sort of Stepford lizard people. The blonde bats her fake lashes, perfectly plump pink lips in a moue of faux surprise. Her brunette and strawberry haired friends titter behind their manicured hands, waiting for the obvious ringleader to respond. She has a newspaper in her hand, but she doesn’t speak as she stares at me.

Rolling my eyes, I reach over and snatch the paper with a growl of annoyance. Jekyll bounds over, leaping in front of me and making a low, angry noise in his throat. The wannabe socialites sneer at my companion until Kali joins him, her sheer bulk forcing the women to back up a little. Now that I’ve got space, I flick the paper open and if the headline was a punch, I’d be KO’d.

I stagger backward; the shock making my chest tighten and sparkles dance in front of my eyes. Fury burns its way from my gut to every inch of my frame, like liquid fire running through my veins. The darkness creeps in the edges of my vision and I know I'm going to lose time again if I don’t stop it. Kali butts her gigantic head against my hand and Jekyll does the same on the other side. Their presence helps a bit, but even my animal friends aren’t going to help me curb my break.

“Is she gonna lose her lunch? I can’t say I’m surprised. Trash is as trash does, my momma always said,” the red-haired one says,

“Don’t be ugly, Aprilynn. I swear, you could start an argument in an empty house,” the brunette scolds, swatting her arm. “It would appall your mama.”

“Rebekkah, don’t pitch a hissy. Even if her parents didn’t have a pot to piss in and she’s currently the village bicycle, that doesn’t mean we can forget our manners.”

I’d respond, but all I can hear is the pumping of blood in my ears as the rage takes over. The only thing that saves the random bitches on the street is me not knowing them. I wouldn’t recognize them in a three person line-up, so I know they weren’t involved in this outrage. The person responsible is the former ringleader of my personal torture brigade—Amy Matilda Behle.

She owns this fucking paper, and I don’t know how she got this picture or why she began her offensive today. I know she’s been pulling the strings on the women at work and the remaining members of her clique from high school. Before today, I truly believed she might eventually leave me alone if I ignored their petty machinations.

Ignoring bullies has never been good advice, and giving it to myself was stupid.

“Come!” I snarl at the animals as I turn on my heel, leaving the babbling twits to stare as I stalk down the street towards the Hollow Hollar office.

I’m going to end this right here and now. Coming home was about solving the mystery of my FBI failure, not healing the war wounds of the past. The weird stalker, clues in a box, and endless questions that lead to more riddles make accomplishing my goal more complex every day. I don’t have time to play games with these bitches who never outgrew mean girl bullshit.

Arriving at the office faster than I thought possible, I yank the door open and watch it slam against the wall hard enough to shatter glass. Every fiber of my being is screaming for blood, and Seer would be the first to admit she’s had to pull me off someone when I got like this. People are talking or yelling—I’m not sure which—but everything is a low buzz in my ears. I can see their mouths moving, but nothing registers as I stalk over to one of the few people on this planet that I’d unironically call my nemesis.

“ Amy Matilda Behle !” I shout, dropping a palm on Kali's and Jekyll’s heads. Hyde and Hecate hang back at the doorway, forming a perfect block for anyone who thinks they’ll escape my wrath by running out. “Show yourself, you spineless twit.”

The Queen Bee emerges from an office near the back, arms crossed over her chest as she stalks towards me. Her platinum hair is natural, as are the perfect button nose, wide blue eyes, and bow shaped mouth. Amy won the genetic lottery in her family as she’s naturally built like pinup Barbie while her sisters, Henrietta and Jasmin, had to have surgery to achieve the same look. Her father is also ethereally beautiful, a fact that couldn’t have hurt him in his career as a diplomat.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the Hester Prynne of Whistler’s Hollow.” She looks over at the entirely female, extremely chic staff of her tiny hometown paper as if they’re the editorial department of the Times. “Ladies, it isn’t often we have such an infamous visitor. Did you make her feel welcome?”

“None of us have a dick, so doubtful,” mutters another blonde, standing immediately to Amy’s right.

My eyes narrow. That’s her lieutenant—just as Reese was in high school. This woman serves as the right-hand toady to Amy’s army of Skippers. I haven’t seen her ex-capo since I arrived, but I assume that much like OJ and Sherilynn, Reese and Jillian will make themselves known eventually, probably with their own little cadre of sycophants. “I have no idea who this flea is, Amy, but you’ve made a grievous error with this stunt. I’ll have your paper, your family fortune, and everything you’ve ever held dear by the time I’m finished with you. I am not the powerless girl you tortured in the past.”

Her laugh tinkles like a vicious fairy as she strides forward to stand less than a foot from me. Amy ignores Kali’s escalating snarls and Jekyll’s angry cat noises; instead, she bats her lashes at me. “Jolene Whitley, you are and always have been an overfed peon. Your love affair with undesirables put you on my radar, but I’ve enjoyed every moment of your comeuppance. Today’s headlines are just the beginning of a delicious campaign to run you out of my town for good.”

That does it.

My vision goes black and the fury inside of me feels like it's bursting free. Before I can pass out, shrieks fill the air and I blink, clearing my eyes enough to see an enormous black constrictor snake with almost metallic looking scales fall from the ceiling onto Amy. The women around her scatter, too chickenshit to help as they scream loud enough to wake the dead generals. I watch as the snake coils itself around her from head to toe—putting its length at a minimum six feet with a body as thick as my thighs—and her horrified pleas turn to gasps and choking.

Goddamnit, the fucking thing is going to kill her and I’m going to get blamed for sure.

Considering she printed a headline in this morning's paper declaring me a ‘Southern madam’ running a ‘cathouse’ who is a danger to the morality of our town and its children, there’s not a snowball’s chance in Hell that people aren’t going to light pitchforks to come after me. I shake my head, trying to clear the burning rage so I can focus on the situation at hand.

Snakes can’t ‘hear’ externally, so to speak, but they sense vibration through their jaws. Or, that’s what the yogi in India taught Seer and me, and I’m hoping he wasn’t full of shit. Amy’s screams are loud enough to make it panic and squeeze tighter, and I’m not even addressing the choir of women plastered against the walls or standing on desks yelling. We’ll never get this thing to let her loose before she suffocates if they don’t shut the fuck up and let this large exotic animal have some goddamn space and quiet.

“Hey, buddy,” I say, taking a cautious step towards my idiotic enemy. “She’s not worth it. Someone will insist you be euthanized if you kill her. You gotta loosen up so she can breathe.”

“What… what... is… she…” Amy gurgles, but I ignore her as I focus on the serpent, studying me curiously.

Another step, followed by another, has me close enough to look into its reptilian eyes. I lay my hand on one of the thick coils gently, trying not to spook it. I’m hoping the vibration from my voice will transfer through my fingertips because Amy is damn near blue in the lips. I have little time and it doesn’t seem like anyone is coming to save me.

“Release her. Let her go and I will deal with her nastiness. She hasn’t harmed you and her words no longer hurt me. The bike inside of people like this eats them from the inside out, much like your venomous relatives,” I murmur to it.

I have no idea why I feel like I should justify myself to this random murderous snake, but I have a soft spot for almost any animal, and I’m worried that this attack will get it killed. I can’t prove it crashed through the vent to defend me, but the timing is hard to ignore.

“Is she some sort of Harry Potter reject? What is going on ? Get the mayor! Get Chief Barrington to throw her ass in jail and shoot this thing!” one of the Skippers shrieks.

Before I can tell her to shut her fucking yap, the door bursts open and my guards let out territorial snarls and yowls. My head whips around, hoping it’s Teddy or one of my boys—hell, even Seer would be helpful at this point—but it’s Doyle. The hero of the hour would be the snarky Irish asshat that got me into this bloody mess. The picture of us isn’t pornographic, but it’s detailed enough for everyone who reads this godsforsaken paper to know what we were up to in that alley. His arrival doesn’t do a damn thing to quell the rumor reported as fact in this paper, and I want to kick him in the balls for not being smarter.

“Aye, lass. Looks as though you’ve got a bit of a cat on a melodeon here. Allow me to assist,” he says, giving me an infuriating, mischievous grin.

Ugh, why, oh why, do I always attract trouble like a magnet?

“Doyle, baby, stop this freak from killing Amy!” the annoyingly brave Skipper shrieks.

His brow arches in that way that only those of us with the dominant gene seem to as he looks at her. “Bambi, I am not, nor have I ever been, your baby. I wasn’t even my mum’s baby for very long. Now shut up and let the adults handle this, you twit.”

I have to struggle with whether I should laugh that this idiot is actually named Bambi or that he basically sent her to the kiddie table in front of everyone. My smug delight wins the war and I smirk at her, turning to my reluctant savior. “Well, Lucky, I woke up this morning, and decided since the paper called me everything short of a snake charmer, I’d try my hand at the hat trick.”

His laugh booms through the room as he comes over and whispers in my ear, “I believe you already know exactly how to accomplish that feat, but let’s try it on the real one together, aye? Talk to the git before the melters in here get their friend killed.”

I wrinkle my nose, wondering why he thinks my voice is going to soothe this fifty-pound monster. Humoring him seems to be the best way to stall for time, so I nod. “Come on, dude. Amy won’t even taste good. You’re not going to squeeze the bitter out of her, and when you go to chow down, she’s gonna give you indigestion. Hell, she gives me an ulcer and I’m not even trying to digest her mean ass.”

The serpent tilts its head, bobbing it back and forth for a moment as its tongue flicks in the air. I know that means it’s scenting because snakes use taste as one of their main hunting tools. One coil at a time loosens after it dances for us, slowly letting go of my childhood nemesis until her lips pink up. Eventually, the shiny black and rainbow python lets go of her completely and slithers over to me. It winds its way around my left leg and up my body until it’s wrapped around me like I’m in a Brittany Spears video.

Oh, just fucking great.

“Looks like ye found another admirer, Tíogair. I have to admit; I’m a lot more fond of this one than the giant feathered git or the doggies,” Doyle murmurs, his eyes dancing with mirth.

“Of course you like the snake and cats. If you were some sort of Wuzzle, you’d be a mix of those animals, Lucky.” I sigh, looking back at the gasping Amy and her fawning Skippers. The thought of dealing with her or the fallout of this is exhausting.

“ Why hasn’t anyone told this bitch ? She’s dangerous!” Amy shouts, pointing a shaking finger at me. “The Mayor should have her locked up like a zoo animal !”

The rage builds again, and Doyle takes my hand, squeezing it as if to calm me. I don’t know that his presence is so effective just yet, and I open my mouth only to close it immediately when Teddy comes barreling through the door with Wolfie, Presley, and Benjy. I don’t know who called my guys or why in the hell they brought the biggest dude in the entire town with them, but I’ll take it.

“Amy Behle, you need to… Shut. Your. Mouth. Now ,” Teddy growls in a dark voice that makes my girly bits tingle with excitement.

You’d think I’d be too distracted by the giant snake, half-dead bully, Skippers, or the appearance of my Harvey Wallbang to register that, but nope. My vagina is just trampy enough to flutter in excitement at the cavalry and Teddy’s booming command.

I’m fairly certain I have an illness. Is nymphomania communicable? Never mind, I know it’s not, but if it was, this town definitely gave it to me.

“But, Edgar , her stupid snake tried to kill me !”

His brow arches and I swallow hard again. I almost wish someone would kill me now—that or fuck me senseless because despite the wailing moron over there, this whole rescue bit it fucking hot.

“Amy, your father and the Mayor need to see you immediately. Your stunt in the paper has triggered a protocol and they need to speak with you,” Wolfie says softly, giving her an angry look. “Don’t dig the hole deeper; you’ll be lucky if you get out of this one without a lot of groveling.”

Presley looks at the Skippers with disgust. “Get her out of here and to Town Hall. Lock this place up and go home—all of you. I’d suggest looking for jobs, as you may not have one when this is over.”

“They won’t if I have the Mayor’s ear on the topic,” Doyle drawls, his lips curved in a malicious grin. “They’ll be lucky if they aren’t re?—”

“That’s enough, Haggerty.” Teddy glares at him and he rolls his eyes as if all of his fun for the day has been spoiled.

“C’mon, Jolene. Why don’t you and the guys come down to the store and I'll take you in the Speakeasy early?” Benjy murmurs. “I have the feeling you could all use a drink, and I’m happy to help.”

I nod, running my hand over the smooth scales of the giant snake that seems to have no inclination to let go of me. “I’m going to need another form, Doyle.”

“Aye, milady. I’ll get one and come back to join you.”

That said, I turn on my heel, whistle for my companions, and walk out of the Hollow Hollar for the first and last time.

I’ll never step foot in this building again if I can help it.