Page 32 of Cheater Slicks

Striding past us, Kierce entered the bedroom, gripped the edge of the comforter, and yanked it off.

There, next to the pillow, sprawled Anunit with her little hat knocked askew.

“That…” Harrow scooted closer to me and away from her, “…is an alligator.”

“Yes and no.” I stomped over to the mattress and spoke out loud. “What are you doing in here?”

“I miss that body. It was warm.”

Translating for her was a mistake. I realized that the second the words passed my lips.

“What does she mean she missesthat body? Me? She missesme? Why? I’ve never seen that thing in my life.” As if his situation had just registered, he froze on the threshold. “Where am I?” He swung his head toward me. “What the hell is going on?”

For Harrow’s sake, I hoped Jean-Claude had some bourbon left.

The truth of what happened to him wasn’t the kind of story anyone believed sober.

Much to my relief, Harrow was cool about the whole kidnapping/possession thing. He was so quick to be the bigger person and forgive me that I had no choice but to break my own rules and forgive him. I had a problem giving people who hurt my family second chances. I knew holding on to grudges wasn’t healthy, but aside from running, I didn’t have many healthy hobbies, so what was one more?

Alone with Harrow on the gallery overlooking the Quarter, I sipped sweet tea while he chomped through a shrimp po’boy fresh from the corner shop. Had we found ourselves here for any other reason, I would have called the evening peaceful. I might have even let myself enjoy the company. With his mouth full, it was too hard for us to argue.

“I want to call a truce.” I watched him for his reaction. “We’ve both made mistakes, and I doubt we’re at the end of them. Our paths keep crossing, so… Yeah. This would be easier if we were friends.”

“Okay.” He chewed thoughtfully. “Friends.”

“Just like that?” I stirred my drink with my straw. “You forgive me?”

“Frankie, I’m tired of blaming you for things outside of your control. I’m tired of getting blamed for them too.” His eyes smiled at me when he stole my cup and sucked down half of it. “We live in the same town and have people in common. Like Carter. And Aretha. Friendship would make bumping into one another a lot easier on everyone involved.” He stared into the glass, clinking the ice cubes. “I’m more worried about if you can forgive me.”

Tempted to ask if Aretha hadbumpedinto him recently, I decided it wasn’t my place to pry.

“I’m not the same person I was, and I don’t mean to play the death card to death, but I’m literally a different person.” A smile twitched in my cheek. “This is the part where I should say that means I don’t want to waste my second chance on old grievances or petty blah, blah, blah, but I’m just tired of losing people I care about.” I shoved his shoulder. “That apparently includes you.”

“As much as I would love to hang around and help out, I didn’t exactly get the time off approved. Carter is covering for me, but I have to head home.” He finished off my drink. “I’ll have 514 resources at my disposal, so if you need anything, text me.”

“I’ll do that.” I watched him as he left to return his dishes, and a sense of contentment blanketed me. He was going to be a part of my life, peripherally, and wiping the slate clean felt good. It felt even better not to be brought up on charges because a goddess used his body like a Swyft. “Kierce.”

I wasn’t sure how long he had been standing there, watching me, or maybe watchingoverme. I couldn’t say how much of my interaction with Harrow he witnessed, but I didn’t think it had been much. As I sank into my new skin, opening my senses wider, I could feel him on the edge of my consciousness.

“Harrow is leaving?”

“He woke up in a strange city with an alligator in his bed and no memory of how he—or it—got there.”

A chuckle slid past his lips, and that was all the encouragement I required to invite myself to taste them. I rested my palms on his shoulders, lifted onto my toes, and pressed my mouth to his with a happy little hum. As he relaxed into the kiss, gripping my hips and holding me flush against him, I let my thoughts spin out and take my worries with them.

“Frankie.”

The voice at my back wasn’t one I could ignore, not with that somber quality, so I broke away from the stolen moment with Kierce to face Jean-Claude and the reason for his interruption. “What’s wrong?”

“Rollo is…” He dragged a heavy hand down his face. “I found him in his office.” His fingers trembled over his mouth. “Passed out on the floor.”

“What?” I rushed out into the hall. “He was fine a minute ago.”

More like thirty minutes ago. Maybe forty-five. Had it already been an hour?

How long had he lain there before Jean-Claude went to comfort him and discovered him instead?

A shiver tickled my spine as I entered his room, which had been forbidden to me all these years. But he was in no shape to scold me. His head rested on his pillow, and he lay on the mattress like a sleeping prince. With all the gilded accents on his duvet and the gold leaf on the corners of his four-poster bed, the theme was lessSleeping PrincethanKing Midas.

---