Hell's Bells

by K. B. Draper

  And since we’re going all metaphorical, I couldn’t help but feel that I was more of an undertow. I was the thing that enticed you, but you realized too late that you were too deep with no way to get back to shore, before I slowly pulled you under. And now, I’d gone off and done the same to everyone else I love. I began to feel the full weight of what lay ahead of me, what now lay between their safety and an unknown fate. It was more real, more …

  Ashlyn cupped my face, bringing my attention from my thoughts to her eyes. “Right here. Right now. You’re safe. I’m safe. Your family is safe.”

  I nodded, the slight movement giving my tears the little push they needed to slip over my eyelids. “I …” And well that’s apparently all I had to say about that.

  Ashlyn pulled my lips to hers and whispered against them. “I know, baby. I know.” She kissed away my tears.

  “Did I do the right thing?” I asked, at the thought of having sent my sister off with her husband and munchkins knowing that the same person she once dared to eat dog food was now the one she was relying on to protect her family from Lucifer’s big whiney hissy fit.

  “You did the right thing. It’s scary and of course they’re worried, but they’re better off knowing. They can do something now.”

  “Brook said she was going to keep the girls out of school for a few days. They’re happy about that.” I tried for a grin, but apparently my lips had commitment issues at the moment. “I’d love to see the excuse she writes them.”

  Ashlyn smiled. “Probably not the weirdest thing their teachers have heard.”

  I sighed. “At least they’ll all be together. They were going home to get some stuff, but will be coming back here to stay with my parents. They’ll fight if they need to.”

  “They won’t need to. You, me, Danny, all of us, we’re going to protect them. Until then let’s just live. Enjoy.” She leaned up to kiss me.

  My fears momentarily took a backseat to the thumpy thump thump feels that Ashlyn’s kiss stirred up in my heart and southern regions. A few beats later my boots and jeans hit the floor. My shirt, bra, and girl Jockeys followed a second later. Ashlyn’s another after that.

  I slowed our pace after the first of our feverish needs were satisfied. Never breaking our connection, I took my time this go around, wanting to pay attention to every inch of her. My fingers, tongue, and mouth all took turns with her. She bucked and moaned in response, which only served to feed my cravings. I traced kisses along her collarbone and up her neck as she exposed it to me. I felt my name released from somewhere deep within her, leaving her lips on a breath that carried me away from all my worries. She thrust her hand through my hair, tethering me to her, to the here and now.

  I cupped her breast in my hand, kneading it softly as my lips left hers again to trace and tease. I enjoyed the rake of her fingernails on my back as she tried to gain purchase during my departure. I gave each nipple some attention before moving down her stomach. Her breath caught as I traced a fingertip along the inside curve of her hip. My tongue took the trek as my hand slid up the inside of her thigh. I felt her grab at the sheets as I began to caress.

  “AJ, please,” she moaned.

  “Please what? Tell me what you want,” I growled.

  It turns out my hands and mouth are way better at taking orders than the rest of me. Ashlyn flopped back, her limbs exhausted from their efforts. “Fine, I guess I’ll keep you,” she said between panted breaths.

  “If you’re not sure, I can try again.” My own breaths were still trying to find their normal rhythm. I rolled on my side so I could lay a possessive arm across her. “Just need a minute … or seven.”

  “Wimp.” She rolled enough to tuck her naked backside in against me. Which, of course, sent zippity doo dah signals all over again to my inny parts, and I’m not talking about my belly button, but it was a little punch drunk at the moment too. I pulled her in closer, needing now to simply feel her, hold her, keep the peace and calm she brought to me as long as possible.

  I was about to drift off, when a light ping came from my window. A second later, another. I slid silently from the bed, pulling on a T-shirt and sweats as I went.

  Mia was standing there, another pebble cocked and ready to be hurled in my direction. I waved her off, giving the “two seconds” signal, something I’d done dozens of times before, though I’d bet my boots this time it wasn’t because she’d scored some beers and wanted to waste our sleeping hours talking about school, bitchy girls, and cute boys.

  Mia was holding out a beer as I approached. “So, demon hunter,” she greeted, “tell me about Danny.”

  “He has crabs,” I offered, snagging the beer and taking a long pull from it.

  “No, he doesn’t,” Mia said, picking up the small cooler she’d brought as we both instinctively started down the path that we’d long ago worn into the woods.

  “Fine. He’s gay.”

  “Um, yeah. I’m thinking that would be a hard no.”

  “Please don’t use hard in a sentence. Especially with all that,” I swirled a finger at her mouth, “girl in your voice.”

  Mia slid an arm around my waist, and I wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “I miss you.”

  “I miss you too. I’m sorry. I just …”

  “I know,” she said and leaving it at that until we’d made it to our long-ago spot. I took up my old seat assignment, a flat area of rock that jutted out, making a ledge over an old dried-up creek bed. I dropped my boots over the edge as Mia sat against the base of a large tree, using its trunk as a backrest, its knobby roots as a coaster. “I was really mad at you. More hurt, really.”

  “And now?” I asked.

  She paused a beat, “Still hurt, but it’s moving more toward disappointment. I thought we could talk about anything. I don’t understand why you didn’t think you could tell me.”

  I did my own pause and reflect, kicking a boot out, letting its heel swing back and strike the rock below me. “I just couldn’t. Or didn’t … I didn’t trust myself with anyone. I mean for god’s sake this is all so …”

  “Fucked up?” Mia offered.

  “Orgy level kind of fucked up. I have a Native American spirit straight up 90210’ing it in my body.”

  “Not so bad if he’s anything like Luke Perry, yum.” She mused, “Speaking of, can you see him?”

  “Luke Perry?” I asked. “No. I mean I have some mad skills but—”

  “The demon hunter dude. And if so, is he hot?”

  “He’s Danny’s great-great-great-grandfather,” I was pleased to remind her.

  “So totally hot then,” she determined, with a quirk of her lips. Mia had never been boy crazy; she’d come out of the womb as a strong independent woman. She knew her worth, and not a single penny of it was calculated by or because of a man. Or anyone else for that matter. She was playing the role now to distract me, and that was one of the many things I loved about her.

  Like Ashlyn, she’d always been able to read me like a billboard. “You do understand that I’m not going to let you guys do this without me?” She held up a hand to stop my protest. “You pushed me away long enough.” She tapped the small scar that was still visible in the center of her palm after so many years. “Bonded. By blood.”

  I ran over my own small puckered memory of the adolescent’s pact to “always be together.” We’d also stolen peach schnapps and mixed it with Dr. Pepper, so I can’t say we always made the best life choices.

  “I can’t let you do that.”

  “Can’t?” she snorted. “Girl, please.”

  “Mia, this is different. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but it’s not going to be … it’s going to be—”

  “Capital ‘S’ sucky?”

  I laughed at the throwback to our old high school speak. “Capital ‘S’ sucky,” I repeated.

  “Here’s the deal. As I see it, I have two options. One, I can sit on the sidelines and hope you guys save us all. Or two, I can be a part of saving my own
ass and the asses of others. Now, which one of those options sound more like me?”

  “Mia.”

  Matching my tone. “AJ.”

  “Mia.”

  “AJ,” she copycatted again.

  “Knock it off.”

  “You knock it off. I’m in.” Mia took a drink of her beer as if that was the period to this conversation.

  “What about Vera? Who’s going to take care of her?”

  She evil eyed me, “Nice try. You heard her tonight. She’d be out there too if she could. I already talked to her about this, and she said I needed to be with you, and she’d help protect Roy and Joy at home.” I had to smile, as I could see her saying just that. “I’m in this, AJ. You have pushed me away for too long.”

  “Fine. You can be the person in the van,” I stated, not hiding my smirk as she’d always complained during our slumber party action movie marathons about the woman always being left in the van during the big scenes. I took the last swig of my beer only to have its replacement chucked at my head. Thank goodness for my super reflexes.

  After a few more back and forths, our convo wandered off into memories and stories old and new. Mia had sought her computer science degree after high school, having shown we’ll say “accelerated” skills in all things computery. She’d programmed networks and built infrastructures, or some geek speak stuff for the local sheriff’s department as a senior in high school. She’d moved off to California to be part of the silicone—yes, I know it’s Silicon, but I call ’em like I see ’em—silicone valley rush, only to come back to the Midwest with an unimpressed attitude, but a very impressive bank account. She’d used the funds to start her own company, helping nonprofits and start-ups that were trying to do better for the world. I was sure she still did a fair amount of “backdooring” a.k.a. hacking if you aren’t processing what I’m data-ing. Mia was like a modern-day Computer-hood. She sometimes hacked from the bad and programmed to the good. A white hat hacker in official terms. And damn it, my insides flipped at that thought. It all sounded very similar to another data-head I knew. I sighed. “So, Danny …” I said, repeating the words that had started our midnight reunion.

  “He seems pretty great,” Mia said, packing the empty bottles in the cooler.

  “The greatest,” I confirmed.

  “But?” Mia asked as she took my offered hand to help her up.

  Ashlyn’s words repeated in my head. “He deserves a chance at happy.” I now knew how happy felt. For me it was like a lifejacket in a hurricane—not all the answers to your troubles, but it definitely helped you keep your head above water on the rough days. “No buts. Actually, he’s the only person I know that could come close to being worthy of you.”

  “You know an angel,” she deadpanned.

  We started back down the path toward the house. “True. And he’s super pretty, but a little iffy with the life choices. Plus, and here’s a fun angel fact: they can Etch A Sketch your brain.” She was wide-eyed. “So yeah, you ask him to do the dishes and, poof, you have no idea what you were talking about.”

  “Say that again,” Mia said.

  “Angels, just like tequila, can go in and do a brain scrub.”

  “Any memory?”

  I shrugged in response.

  “Basement makeout session with Tommy Larkin?”

  I laughed. “Hey, I warned you that he was a sweater.”

  We both did the back-shiver thing. “Speaking of, are you going to the reunion tomorrow? And before you answer, your answer is yes,” Mia stated.

  “I—”

  She shoulder bumped me. “We can double date. You and Ashlyn, Danny and me. We’ll be the hottest! It’ll drive Lilly mad.”

  “Well, when you put it that way, it sounds rather enticing. But,” I groaned, “the rest. Ugh. It sounds painful.”

  “You fight demons for a living, went to hell, and might be teeing off with Satan in the near future. I think you need to check yourself on the definition of painful. Plus, Ashlyn is smoking hot and intelligent. She’ll have all the guys and a few women drooling. Heck, she even had me questioning my preferences tonight.”

  I smiled at that. “She is pretty amazing.”

  “I really like her,” Mia said. “I’d love to get to know her better. And you. This new you. I’ve missed my best friend. I want her back.”

  I groaned. “Damn you.”

  Mia tucked an arm in mine. “Ha! Was it the hottest make Lilly jealous thing or the mushy get to know my friend again that got you?”

  “Both.”

  “So, you haven’t changed that much then.” She hugged me. “I’ll see you tomorrow night? At the gym.”

  “Fine. Do you need me to notify your date, or are you going to do it?” I asked.

  “I’ll do it. We have plans later.”

  I looked down at my watch, then back at her. “It’s after midnight.”

  “Yep.” And with a wink and a wave, she was gone.

  Chapter 9

  I put Woody’s shifter in P, shut off his engine, and stared at my greatest nightmare. For perspective again, been to hell, so this should be day spa-level stuff. Nope, my pancreas felt like it was trying to crawl over my gallbladder to quiver behind my liver. I leaned forward to take in the whole kit and I-hate-this caboodle.

  Nothing had changed in the years that I’d been gone. The WWII barrack-style brick building ran lengthwise for half a block until a mid-eighties addition T’d off to house the music and band parts of our well-rounded curriculum. P.S. I hated music class. No wait, sorry, it was the music teacher that hated music class. Or maybe it was she hated me in her music class? Again, it’s been over a decade and the details are foggy, but I do have a vague memory of trying to repeatedly toss pencils at the ceiling in an effort to get them to stick into the bottom of the egg cartons that were affixed there as low budget DIY noise compressors. There was also something about a Bon Jovi solo improv during a Christmas pageant incidenty thing … Still, I’m pretty sure it was her that didn’t like music. Or kids. Either way, I found music class do re mi fa sol la ti boring.

  I continued my flashback horror track to the stand-alone metal building, a.k.a. shop class. Now that was something I could get behind. Power tools and our two-thumbed, four full-fingered, and three and three-fourths fingered, shop teacher named Clive. Or as I once offered up Clive The Cleaver. Not my best work, but it was early in my name-making years, and Clive The Bandsaw just didn’t have the same ring to it, and Nubbins seemed a tad insensitive.

  Next up, and front and center in the windshield, was the gymnasium, which was my least hated building of all the hated buildings and which conveniently housed my least hated class of all the hated classes, PE, well except for square dancing week, to which I do-si-didn’t do.

  Its high-arched metal roof was still streaked with the lines and patches of black tar, the no-budget solution to trying to keep the rain on the outside of the building versus in the fifty plus buckets that were kept in the janitor’s closet behind the stage. Its high walls were brick with a smattering of white limestone to accent the doors and windows of the stand-alone building. The only exception to the design was the late-eighties cinder block addition, which housed a then “state of the art” weight room for the football team. I wrinkled my nose at the smell of sweat and teenage jock itch.

  “You okay?” Ashlyn asked.

  “Remind me to get some fast actin’ Tinactin for my sinus cavity,” I answered.

  “I … you …” Ashlyn gave up with a shake of her head. “Never mind, I don’t want to know. But what I would like to know is, what’s that supposed to be,” she pointed at the mural of the school’s mascot adorning the white concrete wall, thanks to the Senior Class of 1989. “A hairless mongoose?”

  “That would be a tiger.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah, hopefully the class of ’89 went on to pursue other talents.”

  “Addison! Add-dddison Jo,” a ghost of classmates past came screaming up to my side win
dow. “Or is it still AJ? AJJJJ!” Molly Ringworm. I can’t take credit for that one. It was given to her by her mom in sixth grade after her nail-biting habit turned into a nightmare. She excitedly waved at my side window.

  I turned to the woman who was supposed to love me. “Please don’t make me do this.”

  “You’ve been to hell. I think you can get through a couple of hours of a class reunion,” she said, her hand already opening the passenger door.

  “If you make me go, you’re not getting any tonight.”

  Ashlyn stood and smoothed out her dress, the black fabric lying nicely over every yum-a-licious curve. She did a little shimmy, shimmy, that brought my attention up to Bonnie and Clyde, who settled nicely inside the deep vee of her dress. She looked down at herself, then at me, a smirk at the corner of her mouth. “Yeah, right.”

  I sat for a few beats of my heart, which wasn’t any time at all since Ashlyn and her dress had it go-carting around in my chest cavity. “I guess we’re doing this,” I sighed as I reached for the door handle, but not before I gave a “back it up, buttercup” wave, getting Molly to clear the aisle.

  I took Molly’s jaw bouncing off the parking lot as a good sign that I’d held up well since graduation. “Holy crap, you look … you look … like … wow … just wow,” Molly said.

  I took my own eye trip. Ashlyn had Tomboy Barbied me up in a relaxed black suit jacket with black-patterned suede elbow patches. I had to wonder whether they were a fashion choice or convenient built-ins as she thought there was a good possibility she’d have to drag me kicking and screaming into this place. A brand-new—give it all of five minutes—crisp white button-down. Its sleeves were long and pulled out, then rolled back over my jacket cuffs, and two plus one to groan on buttons were undone down the front, ’cause I could, making space for the single black necklace that lay strategically between Lefty Lucy and Righty Tighty.