Moonshine in a Mason Jar

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Moonshine in a Mason Jar Page 11

by Kimbra Swain


  “You play dirty,” she said.

  “You have no idea,” I growled.

  She shifted back and forth on those fuck-me red heels. I placed my palms on the wall on either side of her head. “Grace, what did Joey Blankenship do that made you so mad that you lost your shoes, fell in the mud, and walked home?”

  She shook, not wanting to tell me. “It was stupid,” she said.

  “That’s not the answer, Grace. Tell me,” I demanded.

  Her eyes shifted from brown to turquoise then back again. I thought she was going to unleash the fairy queen on me just to keep from telling me the truth. “He didn’t. He didn’t wait on me,” she whispered.

  “Wait on you?” I asked, but then it hit me what she meant.

  “I told you it was stupid,” she said.

  She only got a few chances to do the one thing she wanted to do more than anything as a fairy. When she got her chance, Joey Blankenship was selfish, taking his before her. She should have known a young idiot like that wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like her.

  Standing against the wall, she shuddered waiting for my response. I leaned in, kissing her temple. Then made my way down her jawbone to her neck, placing kisses along the way. She whimpered. “Dylan.” When she spoke my name, breathless and wanting, I almost lost my resolve.

  “I would wait on you a thousand times before I got mine,” I said, looking into her eyes. She shoved me back into the table behind me, topping the pots used to make the moonshine. Her quick fingers made their way down to each button on my shirt. I let her do it. I wanted her to touch me. I wanted her.

  When she got to my pants, she licked me from my waist back up to my neck. When she tried to kiss my mouth, I pulled back on her hair. “No, Grace. We can’t,” I protested.

  “Yes, please, Dylan,” she begged. Suddenly she pulled away from me. A light reflected in her eyes. I looked behind me, as the fire spread across the old wooden floor. One of the candles from the table laid on its side, igniting the floor. The flames licked their way to the shelves of moonshine.

  “Run! Grace!” I said frantically. “Get those heels off!”

  She took off running toward the stairs with me close behind her. The glow from the room got brighter. By the time we made it to the pantry, she had on the tennis shoes and jeans. She grabbed my hand as I tried to move toward the front of the house.

  “This way,” she said. The kitchen had a back door which we both hit at the same time. I fumbled to get the door open when the first jar crackled in the basement causing the rotting house to shake.

  Slinging open the door, I shoved her out first. “Run!” I yelled at her. She was faster than I thought she would be. Long legs flew through the freshly-cut field of anise. I barreled along behind her.

  Looking over my shoulder toward the house, I watched as it exploded into a huge fireball. The wave of impact shook the ground as I tried to make ground. A raging wall of fire flashed toward us.

  “Grace!” I screamed turning back to see that she crouched on the ground holding her wrist in front of her. A red shield glowed brightly in front of her curled body. As the flames hit me, I had no choice. The Phoenix took over my body turning my clothes into ash but allowed the fire to surround me without harm. The force of it pushed me into Grace’s shield forcing her back on to the ground on impact. Her head bounced, and her eyes rolled back in her head. When the flames retreated, I looked back to see Grace flat on her back, unmoving.

  “No! No! No, Grace!” I said, running back to her. I dropped down on my knees across her body. I patted her cheeks. “Wake up. Come on, Gracie. Wake up.”

  She didn’t move. I panicked as I shook her limp body.

  “Don’t do this to me, Grace. Please wake up,” I begged, bending my forehead to hers. “Grace.”

  She shifted her weight beneath me. Her body jerked, trying to get away from me. Her eyes were wide and filled with fear. “What are you?” she asked.

  The order from Jeremiah surged inside of me against the spell she had placed on the absinthe. She had finally asked the one question that I couldn’t answer. The pain of it pressed against my chest. I gasped for breath. She tried to get away from me, but I had no control over my body, caging her in so she couldn’t move.

  “Say it, Grace.” I groaned in pain. “You know what I am. Say it.”

  “No,” she protested. “Get off me.” The power in her tattoo flashed, and I knew that she could kill me, but I was held between the two spells, equally powerful.

  “I can’t. You say it. What am I? Grace, what am I?” I grunted.

  “Phoenix,” she whispered.

  The spells released, and I slumped down on top of her.

  “A naked phoenix,” she said as her tone changed quickly.

  When the pain subsided, I started laughing. “Yes, fire and clothes don’t get along very well,” I said.

  She rolled her hips against me. I was suddenly wide awake and at attention. I kept myself pressed against her even though she tried to wiggle out to get a peek. “Grace, stop,” I said firmly. This was definitely not the ideal spot for what we both had on our minds.

  That evil seductress smile crossed her face. “A very, very naked phoenix,” she said. She moaned and rolled her hips again.

  “Please stop that,” I begged.

  “Or what?” she asked.

  I felt no residual from the absinthe. The spell had broken. “Or I will take what I want from you,” I said, playing back with her.

  “You can’t take something that is freely given,” she said. Her nails trailed up my sides, sending shivers down my body.

  “Enough!” Jeremiah’s voice echoed across the field.

  “Fuck,” I said, burying my head in her neck.

  “He’s going to kill me,” she whimpered.

  “No, he won’t, but listen to me,” I said, my mood had suddenly changed. “If you don’t remember anything about this, I want you to know something. I meant it when I swore that I would never hurt you.”

  “Get off her, Serafino,” Jeremiah said closing the distance between us quickly.

  “I’m kinda naked, Jerry,” I said. She giggled. “You hear me?”

  I looked down into her brown eyes, caressing her soft cheeks with my fingers. Jerry kept talking, but I ignored him just to feel her like this one last time before he took it from me.

  “I know,” she said.

  “Would you mind closing your eyes so I can get up?” I asked.

  “Why? You clearly have nothing to be ashamed of.” she said.

  “Grace, please,” I begged. She laughed closing her eyes. “No peeking!” I pushed up off the ground to face Jeremiah who looked like he could kill an army of Unseelie.

  “Go home!” he yelled. A light flashed, and I found myself standing naked in my own house.

  “No!” I yelled, but it was too late. I rushed up the stairs to the bedroom and threw on clothes. I had to get to her trailer. He would erase her mind. I’d lose her again.

  Grace

  Waking up, I looked around me to the familiar walls of my bedroom in the trailer. Rufus was curled up at my feet. I could feel his warm body resting next to me. Jeremiah sat at my bedside with a worried look on his face. Across the room, leaning against the wall, Dylan Riggs stood with his arms folded looking down. The whole scene replayed in my mind from when the vampires were here. I had a strange feeling that something else had happened, but somehow, I missed it. Or forgot it.

  “How are you feeling, Grace?” Jeremiah asked.

  “What the hell did you do to me?” I asked. When I tried to move, every bone in my body ached. Dylan’s sad blue eyes met mine. I remembered an explosion. I remembered that I lured him to the basement of the house, then made him drink the absinthe. No wonder Jeremiah looked like he wanted to kill me.

  “What do you remember?” he asked.

  “Just do whatever you are going to do,” I said. “I made the absinthe. I tricked him.”

  “Just tell me what
you remember,” Jeremiah said forcefully.

  “I dressed up, met Dylan for lunch, and we went out to the house where I had made the absinthe. I put a spell on it to get him to tell me the truth,” I said.

  “What else?” he asked.

  My brain hazed over, and I tried to think. “There was a fire, and we ran. Then the house exploded. I don’t remember anything else. Are you hurt, Dylan?”

  “No, Grace. I’m fine. Just sore,” he said but looked away when he said it.

  “I know you are mad at me. I just wanted to know the truth,” I said.

  “If you want to know something, Grace, you come to me,” Jeremiah said.

  “You don’t tell me anything!” I shouted. Rufus bolted up with a bark, then looked around the room excitedly.

  “I tell you what you need to know. You have to trust me that the rest I keep secret for your own protection. You know as well as I do that there are things out there that would kill you, Grace. They would use you for their own purposes. I do what I do because I care about you and want you to be safe!” he argued.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, biting my lip. “I’m very sorry, Dylan.”

  “It’s okay, Grace. I understand, but we probably should keep everything business from now on,” he said. It hurt him to say it. Jeremiah must have made him promise to avoid me because of this.

  “We can’t be friends?” I asked.

  “No,” he muttered.

  “Don’t do this,” I said turning back to Jeremiah.

  “Grace, this is your own fault for pulling a stunt like this. You make my job harder than it has to be. You make things hard on Dylan and his relationship with Stephanie. He wouldn’t tell you, because he is your friend, but you need to stay away from him unless it’s to consult on a case,” Jeremiah said.

  “Get out,” I said. “Both of you.”

  “Grace,” Jeremiah started again.

  “I said, get out. I mean it. Leave me alone.”

  Jeremiah stood up, placing the chair back against the wall. He patted Dylan on the arm before leaving the room. Dylan looked up at me with sad eyes. I didn’t care how sad he was. He let Jeremiah take away the only friend I had because of some stupid moonshine. He was letting it all happen.

  “You, too. Get out,” I spat at him.

  He nodded and walked out the door. I screamed at the top of my lungs in frustration and pain. Rufus retreated to hide under the bed. I kicked and punched the bed letting my frustrations out. I was stuck in Shady Grove, and now I had no one. Jumping out of the bed, I stomped to the kitchen. I opened the cabinet to pull out my crown, and that stupid teacup sat there on the shelf taunting me.

  Reaching up with a trembling hand, I pulled it out of the cabinet. I ran my fingers across the red roses painted on its delicate surface. The thin handle swirled around with an intricate flourish. One single red rose was painted on the inside. I hated the sight of it. A peace offering for what? Taunting me with something that could never be. We couldn’t even be friends. In my anger, I threw it across the room, watching it impact the far wall and shatter to pieces. Grabbing the saucer, I flung it in the same direction watching it disintegrate just as the cup had.

  “Fuck you, Dylan Riggs!” I screamed. I didn’t care if the whole town heard me. My heart would not be fooled into believing his lies anymore.

  I grabbed the bottle of Crown from the shelf, taking a sip without a cup. It burned down my throat. Standing there in the kitchen, I downed all of it. My fingers and cheeks tingled, but I wasn’t nearly drunk enough.

  Sauntering back to my bedroom, I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked horrible. My hair wasn’t pulled back neatly. Grime from the explosion covered my cheeks. Tracks of tears made their way through the grit.

  “Fuck it,” I said, stomping out of the house. I didn’t bother to lock it. The liquor store was on the corner closest to me once I reached the strip mall with the Food Mart in it.

  When I got to the door, the closed sign laughed at me. I banged on the glass. “Open up, you fuckers. I need whiskey.” I continued to bang on the glass, yelling at them to open the door. It wouldn’t take much power, and I could break the glass. I would leave money for the alcohol. I just needed something to wash it all away. I continued to pound on the door when someone approached me from behind. I spun around to see Troy Maynard.

  “Grace, what are you doing?” he asked.

  “Why Troy! It’s good to see you,” I turned on the charm. “Honey, I need some whiskey. I’m clean out and need a little fix. You think you could get this door open for me. I would make it worth your while.”

  “It’s Sunday. If you want alcohol, you’ll have to go to Hot Tin, but Grace, you look like you need to go home,” he said.

  “I’ll go home, if you go with me,” I said, walking slowly to him. I knew I looked like trash, but I didn’t care. If I couldn’t wash away the pain, I could fuck it away. Troy would do. Then maybe Jeremiah would put me out of my misery.

  Troy backed away from me with his hands up. “Grace, don’t do this. I’m working. You need to go on home. Want me to call Dylan?” he asked.

  “Fuck Dylan Riggs!” I screamed at him.

  “Oh! Okay. No Dylan. Gotcha. Wanna ride home?” he asked.

  “How about I ride you instead?” I purred.

  “No, Grace. I told you. You need to go home,” he said.

  “Or what? You gonna arrest me, officer?” I asked him.

  “I will if you don’t do what I say. You are clearly out of control. I’ll take you in for your own good if I have to,” he said, reaching for the radio mic attached to his shoulder. If he called it in, then it would be on the record. I could stir up enough trouble that Jeremiah would make me leave or move me. That’s all I wanted now.

  I swayed my body while Troy watched me with wide eyes. Stalking toward him, he backed up to the door of his cruiser. “Dispatch, I’ve got a 10-56 at Cahaba Liquor. 10-48,” he spoke into the radio.

  “10-4. 001 is in route,” the dispatcher replied.

  “Dylan is coming,” he said to me.

  “You idiot!” I said, slapping him across the face. He grabbed my hand wrenching it behind me. I yelped in pain, falling to my knees. I felt the cold iron snap around my wrists.

  “Damn it, Grace. What has gotten into you?” he said, trying to hold me still.

  I cried. No more holding back, I rocked back and forth on my knees with my hands cuffed behind me. “Just take me to jail,” I muttered. “Please, just take me to jail.”

  “He’d beat me if I did that. He’s coming,” Troy said, think that would make me feel better. I heard his car pull up, and his door slam shut.

  “What the hell is going on here?” he growled.

  “She’s drunk or something. She was beating on the door,” Troy said. “Then she slapped me for calling it in.”

  “I’ll handle it,” he said.

  “Don’t touch me,” I growled at him.

  “Grace, you need to calm down. Let one of us take you home,” Dylan said. His voice was cold and detached. I didn’t answer him.

  “She begged me to take her to jail,” Troy said.

  “Fine. Take her in,” Dylan said.

  “Are you serious?” Troy asked.

  “Yeah. Let her sleep it off in the tank,” Dylan said, walking back to his car. Troy walked after him, and they spoke quietly. Finally, Troy nodded, then walked back to me.

  “Come on, Grace. I’m taking you to jail,” he said, lifting me to my feet. He placed me in the back of the car. Dylan watched from the inside of his cruiser. I refused to look at him.

  Troy drove me to the jail. They booked me for public intoxication and escorted me to a cell. I sat down on the bed in the cell and rested my head against the concrete wall. A man next to me sang the Bartender song at the top of his lungs.

  “She stole my heart in the trailer park, so I jacked the keys to her fuckin car,” he sang.

  I covered my ears, letting the tears flow. I hated everything
about Shady Grove. Nothing could keep me here but these bars. Even then, I could break the whole building down. I had the power to do it. However, for so long I suppressed the evil queen inside of me. I hated the thought of turning her loose. Becoming that heartless bitch again. If I was going to survive this round of my life, it’s what I would have to do.

  Dylan

  Grace sat on her knees with her arms cuffed behind her. My heart pounded in my chest. I had to walk away. I had to leave it for both of us. I convinced Troy to take her to the jail. He protested.

  “Jeremiah will have a fit. I can’t take her down there,” he said quietly, walking back to my car with me.

  “I’ll take care of it. She needs to calm down. Maybe a night in jail will help her,” I said.

  “I thought you cared about her. Hell, I thought you were in love with her,” he said.

  “You were mistaken,” I said.

  “Fine,” he replied, then turned back to her. I sat in my car as he loaded her up. She never even looked at me. I kept telling myself that it was for the best. I didn’t want to call Jeremiah at the moment, because I was just as mad as she was. I’d probably kill him if he said the wrong thing.

  Troy pulled away with her, and I rested my forehead on the steering wheel. We were both trapped in this game with the Sanhedrin. I no longer cared about the lies and whether she would forgive me. I just wanted to see both of us survive this. She blew up a house just to get the truth from me. I fell for it. Jeremiah was right. No more lunches. No more late-night calls. No more flirting. None of it. Maybe I should just go home and wait for Stephanie. She would let me fuck her brains out. I could fuck Grace out of my system.

  When I turned the car around to pull out of the parking lot, I glanced toward the trailer park. The door to Grace’s trailer was open. I saw Rufus’ head peeking out of the glass screen door.

  “Fuck,” I cursed.

  Driving over, I decided to lock up for her. Rufus whined when I walked on the porch. I went inside, poured him some food, and filled his water bowl. “Your crazy momma will be home tomorrow,” I told him.

 

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