Black Ice

Scotty

Scotty, like all new things, settled into South Acres like a pebble in a still pond. Curious, a little frightening, and astonishingly handsome once the girls had their way with making sure he was clean and well-dressed. He still had that wary energy about him, still carried that knife in his pocket, but there was something relieved there too. He had the look of someone who hoped they could finally stop running, if they just kept their mouth shut about it.

Nobody could ever really get his story out of him, and every time they tried, he waved them off with a smile and a pretty half-truth about being from all over. He told stories about seeing amazing things, but never to the north. Never where it was cold.

Jaime watched him, for once glad not to be the strange one in town, and that there was something new to stir up the congregation. Some, and she knew it was a matter of time, started asking her what she thought of the handsome newcomer, especially once he started putting on a few pounds. She always smiled and laughed it off, same as ever. Max seemed relieved every time she did.

Max, himself, was never far from Jaime. He’d been attached before, but now it seemed he was always a glance away. It should have bothered her, and sometimes it did, but Jaime couldn’t deny that she felt a bit safer whenever she noticed he was around.

One day, as she watched the throng of people surrounding Scott again, the Pastor approached her. Pastor Liam was a tall, slender man, easily six and a half feet and constantly hunching a bit to look people in the eye. Closer to God, he always said, and people always laughed a little. His dark hair was braided down his back, his hazel eyes piercing in that way that always made you feel like he knew too much about you, but with a kindness that assured he’d use the knowledge for good. “Hello, Jaime,” he said in his smooth drawl. “I have a question to ask you, if you’ll indulge me?”

Jaime turned to look up at him, and he smiled when she did. “Of course, what’s up?” She flinched as soon as the words were out of her mouth, but he only laughed.

“It’s about the boy.”

She sighed, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall of the little market. “If it’s about trying to get me hitched again, you can save it.”

He shook his head, “No, but I was wondering if you would be willing to accompany him to the Recreation Center tonight. That’s where he’s been sleeping, and I’ve noticed he seems… in need of a friend. Being the one that found him, I wanted to ask if you might be willing to try to talk to him?”

The mirth leaked from them both as she considered this. She looked back at him, across the street, and saw the way his smile dropped the moment he thought nobody was looking at him. “I think you’re right,” she said quietly, “Alright, I’ll talk to him, or… at least see if I can’t make him a bit more comfortable tonight.”

“I appreciate it, Jaime.”

“Thanks for not using God to guilt me.” She said with a wink, trying to bring back some levity.

He smiled, “Thanks for not making me.”

And after a brief glance, the two of them laughed. The Pastor knew that Jaime wasn’t an excessively religious person. Hell, the whole town did, but they never seemed to shove it down her throat, which was a relief. They all seemed to be of the collective opinion that as long as she did the right things, they wouldn’t push.

Now if only she would choose a man. Ugh, she hated how often her mind turned to that. It made her never want one at all, but it also would never let her forget the expectation, run the data sheets for every man she met to see what they would tell her to notice about them.

It got tiring.

This time, though, as she walked toward the mysterious newcomer, she saw his eyes flick up and her chest clenched oddly. It was uncomfortable, almost nausea, but somehow also not unpleasant? She used to feel it around Max, sometimes still did, but it never made any sense to her. “Hey,” she said, and he jumped again, finally noticing her.

“Oh hey, um…” he cleared his throat, brushing his hands over the unwrinkled legs of his ill-fitting jeans, and said “I actually wanted to talk to you.”

Jaime crossed her arms, “Yeah, me too.” Her brow furrowed. “Which is why I came over,” she shook her head, willing the awkwardness to leave her alone. “Listen, Pastor Liam was asking me to see if there was anything I could do to help make your temporary home a bit more… homey.”

“Oh?” He looked over her shoulder, toward where the pastor was talking to a few people near the doors of the church. “Why’s that?”

“He thinks you could use… someone who, you know… because I was the one who found you outside town…” Jaime shifted from foot to foot, her hands on her upper arms, “Just… I know the people here are nice and all, but I wouldn’t want to tell them why you were out there either, so if you want to talk about things, I might understand a little better?”

Scott stared at her for entirely too long before saying, “You’re not good at lying, are you?”

Her nose scrunched, and she looked at the man with brows furrowed, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If you really thought I was hiding something, wouldn’t you have made something up? Tried to trick me?”

“Would it have worked?”

“No.”

Jaime snorted and shook her head, shifting her weight to her other leg and forcing herself to still. “So…”

Scott sighed, “Yeah. You can come.”

“Come where?” Max appeared like he had always been there, but this time Jaime shifted, not letting him put his arm around her.

Instead, she led him a few steps away. “Max, I know you want to be up my butt all the time, and I get it, but right now I need you to trust me.”

“Trust you? What do you mean?”

“Pastor Liam asked me to talk to Scott, and I don’t think he’ll do that if you’re there. So when I go over there tonight, you need to be somewhere else.”

Max frowned, the muscle in his jaw twitching. He stood there long enough Jaime had begun to wonder if she had angered him, but just as she started to consider what to say next, he said, “Fine. But I want you to wear this.”

He pulled a small whistle from around his neck, draping it around hers. “I use this out in the field, for Molly. I want you to use it if anything goes wrong, okay?”

Jaime held the small silver whistle in her palm, warmth mingling with the annoyance in her chest. “Is that what it’ll take for you to let me do this?”

He nodded, stiff, his eyes flicking toward Scott, who was watching them in that way people watched you when they didn’t want you to feel watched.

“Fine, then I’ll wear it.”

He pulled her into a hug before she could stop him. “Thank you,” he muttered into her hair, letting her go after a second and walking toward the street she knew led to his house.