Authors: Vincent Morrone
“It’s nothing,” I insisted. “We’re just hanging out.”
“Nonsense,” Aunt Breanne said. “But I’ll let you go on thinking that for now.”
“Thanks
,” I murmured, which earned a laugh from Aunt Breanne. “And thanks for dinner. It was great.”
“Oh, it was nothing,” Aunt Breanne said. “I enjoy cooking. I hate cooking for myself. So please drop by. Do you cook at all?”
“Does microwavable popcorn count?” I asked.
“Not really,” she answered. “Next time you come, you and Payne can help me in the kitchen. I’ve taught Payne. Has he cooked for you?”
“Not yet. Should I be scared?”
“Maybe,” she said. “Payne tends to try and spice things up. But he’s not bad.”
As Aunt Breanne kept talking, I felt something cold pass me by. There was something out there. I looked out to see Payne getting into the car. He sent me that killer grin, reached down, and pressed the start button on the car.
Aunt Breanne and I watched as the BMW exploded. Parts of the car flew in all directions as flames engulfed the vehicle and nearby trees. Aunt Breanne and I screamed. We ran to the inferno, calling for Payne.
I could feel the agony Payne experienced as his body was scorched and burned. I watched as Aunt Breanne ran toward the car screaming for the young man she thought of as a son. The pain was so intense, it was nearly impossible not to pass out.
As the inferno raged through the rubble of the BMW, Aunt Breanne tried to get close enough to help but was held at bay by the flames and heat. She was crying and screaming that maybe he was still alive. Had it been anyone else, there would be no
doubt he had been killed. But this was Payne McKnight. And I knew Payne was alive because I still felt his agony.
Payne suddenly burst free of the vehicle, his body on fire.
I realized his power was trying to heal him even as the flames continued to burn away his flesh. He managed to look up at me, his deep blue eyes still unmistakable.
“Fall to the ground!” Aunt Breanne yelled. “Roll!”
Payne obeyed. He fell to the ground and tried to roll, but he was too weak to do so.
“Do you have a blanket?” I asked through gritted teeth. I watched Aunt Breanne run to the house
, and I prayed for her to hurry.
Aunt Breanne returned with a blue blanket that she threw over him, using it to smother out the last of the flames. I managed to stumble over to their side.
“It’s out,” she screamed. “The fire is out! He’ll…” She stopped midsentence and looked at me. “Bristol, are you all right?”
I felt like every inch of me was being stabbed over and over again by tiny invisible daggers. There was no end to the pain. I wept in anguish.
Then Payne went into convulsions. The black patches of skin seemed to boil and then slowly melt into flesh that was red, then soon into his normal skin. Even his nose, which looked like it had been completely blown away, was growing back. Soon he was whole, his dark hair again falling in front of his eyes. His clothes were in tatters as he sat up, struggling for breath, and pulling me into a deep embrace.
“Bristol, are you ok
ay?” he asked.
Wow, did this guy know how to make me look bad! But I didn’t care. I just wept in his arms, grateful for his abilities. The thought of living without Payne was too much to bear. Aunt Breanne watch
ed us intently.
“I s-see you’re taking Payne’s recovery in s-stride,” I said, fighting to keep my voice steady while rubbing away my tears.
“More or less,” Aunt Breanne admitted. “So are you. I take it this isn’t the first time you’ve seen this little trick of his?”
I shook my head. “No, I’ve s-seen the show before. Weeder sh-shot him.”
Aunt Breanne nodded. She looked over to Payne, who was still trying to catch his breath. Stroking his hair, she looked back at me. “You looked like you were in pain, too. You were, weren’t you?”
“I’m ok
ay right now,” I said. “Can we just leave it at that?”
Aunt Breanne smiled. “Fair enough. I think we need to get away from here, call the fire department. Can you two walk?”
Payne and I got up. We turned to look at the blaze. “Wow, your grandfather is down another car. He’s not going be happy.”
“Don’t remind me,” Payne groaned.
“I guess we should also call him and my uncle while we’re at it,” I said. “Although it’s getting harder to—hey, what’s he doing here?” I said and pointed to a man coming around the blaze from the other side.
“Who?” Payne asked. “Where?”
“Right there.” I pointed to the man. He was staring at the fire, stunned.
“Honey,” Aunt Breanne said. “There’s no one there.”
“Payne, right there!” I insisted.
Payne looked right where I was pointing.
“Bristol, there’s
no one
there. Maybe you just need to
lie
down.” I heard his words, the way he said them, and understood. But it was too late. I could see Aunt Breanne had already guessed the truth.
“What happened?” the stranger asked. “How the hell did I get here?”
There seemed little point in pretending now.
“Do you know anything about our car blowing up?” I asked him. “Did you do this?”
“Why would I do that?” he asked. “I don’t know you. Why would I mess with your car? I don’t understand this! Oh my God. I’m dead, aren’t I?”
“Yes,” I said gently. “I’m so sorry.”
The man started to weep. He shook his head as acceptance settled in. Then he was gone.
I tried to ignore the way Aunt Breanne was looking at me. Together we headed for the house. Aunt Breanne kept the blanket around us both. Before she left for the phone, she gave me a kiss on the cheek. “I understand,” she said. “Thank you for finding my son.”
Sitting on the couch, watching her go, I felt completely undone.
“What did you expect?” Payne asked.
At this point, I really had no answer.
It didn’t take long before the place flooded
with two fire trucks, three police cruisers, my grandfather’s old jalopy, and the latest car that Varick McKnight had pulled out of nowhere. I was told it was an Audi Rs8. It was white with black panels and looked like it went from zero to vroom in nothing flat. Every firefighter and deputy stopped and gawked when they saw it pull up. One cop, a huge accumulation of mass muscle wrapped in a six foot seven frame with dark skin and a shaved head, looked like he was ready to weep over it. He stood there, wanting to touch it, but afraid to lay his hands on the car.
Varick McKnight ignored them and headed straight for the house
, where Payne and I were watching from the window. Payne had already changed into clean clothes he’d kept at his Aunt’s.
“Boy,” Varick said to Payne after he was satisfied that Payne was unharmed
. “You may not be aware of this, but most people drive the same car more than once.”
Payne winced.
“Sorry.”
“Think nothing of it,” Varick said. “As long as you and Bristol are ok
ay.” Varick McKnight looked to the corner where my grandfather sat. “It’s been a long time, Gregory. I trust you’re well?”
“I’m still alive and as
ornery as ever,” Grandpa responded. “Before we get started, I’ll tell you that, begrudgingly, I’ve learned to nearly like and respect Payne, despite certain character flaws such as being a McKnight and your grandson. Just thought you should know.”
“Well, such praise,” Varick said. “In kind, I will say that although I’ve had very limited contact with Bristol, I’ve found her to be upfront, honest
, and trustworthy. She must not take after your side of the family much.”
Both Varick and Grandpa sneered. Aunt Breanne came in, handed Varick a cup of coffee, reached up to kiss his cheek, then proceeded to point a finger at her former father in law. “Don’t start. These two have been through enough
.” She whirled on Grandpa with the same finger. “That goes for you, too. I’ll get you a fresh cup.”
I leaned into Payne’s ear. “Have I told you how much I love your aunt?” Payne tried to hide his snicker.
Before anyone could say anything else, the door opened and my uncle entered. He did a quick scan of the room. His eyes settled on Grandpa. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I heard there was coffee,” Grandpa responded and held up his cup.
“Dad.”
“My granddaughter was nearly blown into tiny pieces,” Grandpa
said. “She needs family here. Not the police.”
“I’m both,”
Uncle Mark insisted.
“We’ll see,” Grandpa responded.
“Just keep quiet, both of you,” Uncle Mark warned. Then he turned to me. “Okay, what happened?”
“Well,” I started, “Payne’s car went kaboom.”
Uncle Mark groaned. Varick leaned toward Grandpa. “I’m beginning to see the family resemblance.”
Grandpa just grinned.
“Bristol,” Uncle Mark said as he sat on the edge of the coffee table to be eye level. “Enough is enough. Somehow, you keep getting put in situations where you’re nearly killed. I can’t help but notice this started since you and Payne met.”
“Payne has nothing to do with it,” I responded. “Uncle Mark, don’t even go there
.”
“Then tell me where else to go,” he said. “I told you from the start I liked Payne.” He shifted his gaze to Payne. “You know that’s true
, son, but I need to know why the two of you keep nearly getting killed. That’s two times. Three if you count the cow.”
Aunt Breanne came in with a fresh pot of coffee and cups. She immediately filled Grandpa’s and Varick’s and then fixed one for Uncle Mark.
“Thank you,” Uncle Mark said. “Bristol, it’s not enough to tell me it’s not his fault. I need to know what’s going on here. I love you. I want to protect you. Both of you. Talk to me, please.”
“Uncle Mark,” I said
. “I don’t know what’s happening, but I know without any doubt that Payne isn’t to blame.”
“I want to believe that,” Uncle Mark said. “To believe
you
. But I need to know more.”
“Sheriff,” Payne said
. “Please believe me. I would never do anything to put Bristol in harm’s way.”
“Payne,” Uncle Mark responded
. “Give me another explanation. Otherwise, I may have to tell you and Bristol that you can’t see each other anymore.”
“No, you can’t,” I yelled. “That’s not fair. Payne hasn’t done anything wrong!”
“I’m ready to be convinced otherwise,” Uncle Mark said.
“You’re wrong here
, son,” Grandpa declared. “Payne’s not the problem. He’s the reason you still have a niece.”
“Dad, you’re not helping,” Uncle Mark said. “I’m trying to understand. I can’t help her if I don’t understand what’s happening. Bristol needs to talk to me.”
“She needs our family now,” Grandpa countered. “Not the damn sheriff. Sometimes you just can’t be both.”
“If I may,” Varick said
. “Your niece
is
in trouble. She needs the support of
both
of our families.” He paused and looked at me. “She shall have it.”
“Since when are the two of you on the same side of
anything
?” Uncle Mark asked.
“It’s been known to happen,” Grandpa added. “Once every couple of decades or so.”
Uncle Mark was about to say something when Pinky came in. Uncle Mark went to talk to him. I took the moment to look over at my grandfather and Varick and mouthed a sincere
thank you
.
A moment later, Uncle Mark came back. This time he didn’t sit down. He stood there with his hands on his hips. “There appears to be a body under your car. I’m guessing that whoever it turns out to be will be the person who did whatever to make your car go, as my niece said, kablooey…”
“Kaboom,” I corrected.
Uncle Mark ignored me. “I don’t suppose you can shed any light on why he’d do this,” he asked. “Was this random? Was he targeting Bristol? Payne? Both? McKnights in general? Blackburns?”
“Uncle Mark,” I said
. “There’s no one for you to go arrest. I’m very grateful that you took me into your home, made me a part of your family when you didn’t have to. I love being there. If you want me to leave…”
“Is that what you think?” Uncle Mark asked. “Bristol, do you think any of this makes me love you any less?”
The sincerity in his voice moved me.
“Sherriff,” Aunt Breanne said
. “Don’t you see what’s happening here? Weeder killed Jared long before Bristol arrived. I know better than anyone how hard you worked to get justice for my baby. But you couldn’t. It’s not because you’re not good at your job. I think you’re a great sheriff and a wonderful man. You’ve been a good friend.”
“That’s kind of you to say,” Uncle Mark responded.
“I’m not done,” she said.
Looking stunned, Uncle Mark gestured for her to continue.