Page 36 of Snowed In with her Mountain Men

JAXON

“And… that’s gonna have to be it, I’m afraid. For tonight, anyway.”

I wiped down the brunette’s arm, just as she finished blowing her hundredth bubble. The subject matter sucked, but the piece was sharp, the shading solid. Even the last-minute add-ons she’d asked for seemed to mesh with the background.

“Wait, hang on,” her bubble popped. “What about the roses, behind the dream catcher?”

I let out a long, aggravated sigh. It was turning out to be one of those nights.

“They weren’t in the original sketch, remember?”

“Yeah, but still.”

“And the dragonfly,” her boyfriend pointed. “Didn’t we say we were adding a dragonfly?”

“We did,” I agreed. “If we had the time.”

My eyes shifted to the window behind them, where the sky was already much darker than it should be. The flurries that started hours ago were now full blown snowflakes, and big ones at that.

“Look,” I told them. “We’re shutting it down for the night. If you’d like to come back—”

“What about them?” the brunette whined dramatically. Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard. “They’re not shutting it down!”

She was pointing of course to Lily, who was still working on her client’s leg piece. Lily frowned without looking up.

“Hey, don’t point me out,” she said. “I’m leaving right after Jax. Another ten minutes, maybe. Tops.”

“Fine,” my client huffed. She whirled on me. “You have ten more minutes, then. Do the dragonfly.”

I laughed. “It’ll be a real shitty dragonfly.”

“Why?”

“Because I’d be rushing it. And I don’t rush.”

“Oh no?” her boyfriend quipped. He jerked a thumb at the door. “It sure looks like you’re rushing to get out of here.”

He was one of those tall, skinny, tough guys — all energy, no substance. The kind who can never sit still, so they’re always fidgeting and pacing around. Always aching to start trouble they can never finish.

“What?” he taunted me in a mocking voice. “You got something better to do?”

I didn’t even look at him. My hands were already going through the process of breaking down my gun, readying certain pieces for the ultrasonic cleaner, then the autoclave.

“Hey.” A very skinny, long-fingered hand clapped itself over my wrist. “Don’t pack up, you’re not done yet.”

I saw it happen clear as day — in real time, in slow motion.

My opposite hand closed over his, trapping it, keeping it prisoner as I broke — no, shattered — his wrist into a million disjointed pieces.

I heard his high-pitched wail. I saw the panic and fear in his eyes, as I shoved his broken hand directly into his face, then followed it up with a left hook that would send him reeling.

In a flash it happened. In a flash, it was over. I was back in reality again, staring down at the skinny white hand closed over my wrist. Rather than grab it, I looked up, directly into his eyes.

One look was all he needed.

The scrawny boyfriend couldn’t let go fast enough. He took three rapid steps back, almost tripping over himself in the process.

“Let’s go, Audrey.”

My client’s two brunette brows knit into a single, caterpillar-looking thing.

“Wait, what? I thought he was doing the dragonfly! And the roses!”

I sighed again and shook my head. “Look outside. Have you seen the sky? This whole town’s about to be dumped on by more snow than you’ve ever seen in your life.”

“But—”

“Your tattoo is done for today,” I barked, definitively. “If you want, I can finish it next week.”

“Next week?” the girl whined. “Why do I have to wait until next week? I’m only in town until Thursday. What if I can’t—”

“Then someone else will do the roses, and the dragonfly. Or you can do without them. Or you can come back, preferably without this asshole.” I grunted in the direction of her dickhead boyfriend, then peeled my gloves off. “Personally, I don’t care what you do. Now pay me, and get the hell out.”

Lily and her client both chuckled over the hum of her tattoo gun. My clients shot them a dirty look, then ultimately fished out enough cash to settle the bill. I escorted them to the door; and locked it behind them. But not without looking up into the angry gray sky.

“You have the bedside manner of a grizzly bear,” laughed Lily, “anyone ever tell you that?”

The snow was worse. Much worse.

“A grizzly bear with a thorn stuck in its foot,” she continued. “You’re lucky Zack went home early. If he saw you talk to the customers that way, he would’ve shit.” She paused to wipe the piece she was finishing up, then laughed again. “So much for repeat business.”

“There is no repeat business in this town,” I grumbled. “Just tourists like that, or truckers passing though.”

Lily didn’t answer. She was back in her usual work trance, peering through her thick-rimmed glasses.

“You need to get on the road soon,” I warned. “Both of you.”

“We will.”

“I’m serious. Half an hour would be pushing it. Anything more than that, you’ll be snowed in here. And we both know the snacks in Zack’s office totally suck.”

She frowned and looked up. “I live here, remember? Think this is my first blizzard?”

I looked outside again as I grabbed my coat. “It’s your first blizzard like this .”

I unlocked the door and stepped into the street, where I’d swear it was darker than just half a minute ago. It was no longer chilly, it was fucking freezing. The storm deadened all sound, even the howl of the wind.

“Damn.”

I debated hurrying to my truck, but crossed the road anyway. A single shop was still lit on the opposite storefront. I pushed inside, already blowing on my hands.

“Sorry, we’re closed!” a voice rang out from the back. “I was just about to change the sign over.”

“Even for me?”

A middle-aged woman with blue and pink hair poked her head out. She adjusted a pair of Cyndi Lauper style glasses and looked down her nose at me.

“Oh shit, Jaxon? You haven’t left yet?”

“I was about to. Figured I’d grab a few things, first.”

Teri smiled and tossed me a box. I began loading it with Swiss Rolls, Coffee Cakes, Moon Pies, and all manner of terrible, sugar-laden snacks. In under a minute, I’d practically emptied her display. Teri wasn’t watching me though, she was staring out the window.

“This is a bad one, isn’t it?” she said warily.

“Worst I’ve seen, I think.”

Terri swore, scathingly, as she so often did. Her little convenience store carried just about every household necessity you could think of, plus some creature comforts that somehow always tasted better when they came from a place like this.

“I was here in 78’, when the Big One came through,” she murmured. “I was only nine years old, but I remember it hit exactly like this. Zero warning. Bitter, ball-shrinking cold. The air tasted like—”

“Terri?”

“Yes?”

“You know how much I love your stories,” I grinned, “but we both need to get the fuck out of here.”

She smirked, then nodded. “Yeah.”

I threw a bunch of money at her, and she stuffed it in her coat pocket. As she fumbled for the keys to lock the place up, I closed a hand over hers.

“Did you find out anything?” I asked quickly. “You know, about what we talked about?”

She thought for a moment, then shook her head.

“Nothing really,” she acknowledged at last. “There was that ice-fishing tournament out on the lake, and that brought in a lot of loners. Shit was crazy in here for a solid week, until the prizes were all handed out. Then you’ve got your usual skiers and snowboarders; the ones that always come in pairs and groups.

I didn’t see anyone that really stood out, though. ”

“Alright,” I acknowledged with a sigh. “Thanks anywa—”

“I mean there was this one guy I could tell was new in town, because he kept asking questions.”

“What kind of questions?”

“Directions, mostly. General stuff. I think he mentioned he was staying down near the Sayonara. He was a big motherfucker, too. Had to be around my age, if not older. I thought he was suspicious for a while, because he was always dirty. But then I just figured he found some work at the mill, or on a logging truck, or maybe even—”

The screech of a violent wind gust ripped through the street, rattling the front windows and conveying a sense of urgency that made me feel uneasy. As much as I loved Terri, I wasn’t looking forward to hunkering down in the store for the next few days and eating half her inventory.

“C’mon,” I urged. “I’ll drive you home.”

“But my car…”

“Your car is half-buried by now. Maybe you’ll make it home… maybe you’ll get stuck.” I shrugged. “Best to dig it out afterwards.”

She didn’t like it, but she knew I was right. As a local, it was easy for her to see reason.

“Fine, but one more thing…”

She dipped down the candy aisle and returned with two big fistfuls of something I didn’t recognize. Before I could object, she dumped it all into my box.

“Necco wafers?” I read the label. “Really?”

“Yeah. Take em.”

“They look like chalk,” I grimaced.

“They taste like chalk too, from what I remember,” she snickered. “Maybe they are chalk.”

I picked a roll of the little colorful discs up and sniffed it. It smelled like nothing.

“These things have been here since the 90’s, haven’t they?” I groused.

Terri laughed into the bitter wind as she flung the door open.

“The 80’s, actually,” she cackled. “But who’s counting?”