The Sweet Side Of Hell

An Unlikely Warrior

(Kaycee’s POV)

The woman looked at me as if I had just told her to French kiss a scorpion.

Even though my day hadn't started yet, it was already a disaster. I blamed her and her sister Sophia, who is a jerk.

I also pin the blame on Agatha, since she was the one who texted me that Sophia had just stepped into the cafe with her "trouble-making ass."

Now, at what most people would call the c***k of dawn, I was acting like a town bouncer and getting into a fight with a woman I'd never met.

Lily looked like she was coming out of a haze when she blinked at me. "You're kidding me, right?"

If Agatha confused the angry brunette for her bleach-blonde, baked-tan, tatted up pain-in-the-a*s sister, she needed to get her freaking eyes examined.

Even without my contacts, it was pretty obvious how different they were. Sophia's face looked and felt like an old leather couch. She smoked two packs a day and felt like the world owed her something, so she had deep lines around her mouth where she frowned.

On the other hand, Lily was made of a different material. A more elegant one. Like her sister, she was tall. But instead of going for the crispy fried look, she went for a Disney princess style with thick chestnut-colored hair. It and the flowers in it were trying to get out of a complicated hairstyle. Her skin was paler and her face was softer. Full pink lips. I thought of forest floors and open fields when I looked into those eyes.

Sophia dressed like a biker babe who had been through a wood-chopper, but Lily wore high-end athletic shorts and a matching tank over a toned body that promised more than a few nice surprises.

She looked like the kind of woman who would take one look at me and run for cover behind the first board member wearing a golf shirt.

Lucky for her, I didn't do drama or hard to take care of. I didn’t do doe-eyed princesses in need of saving. I didn’t waste time with women who required more than a good time and a handful of orgasms.

But since I’d already stuck my nose into the situation, called her trash, and yelled at her, the least I could do was bring the situation to a fast conclusion. Then I was heading back to bed.

“No. I’m not f*****g kidding you,” I stated.

"I'm not going with you anywhere."

I told him, "You don't have a car."

"Thank you, Captain Self-Explanatory. I know I don't own a car."

"Let me make sure I understand. You don't know anyone in your new town. Your car disappears. And you're refusing to take the ride because..."

"Because you ran into a coffee shop and yelled at me! Then you went after me, and you're still shouting. If I get in a car with you, I'm more likely to get chopped up and end up in the middle of a desert than to get where I'm going."

"No deserts here. But there are some mountains."

Her face showed that she didn't think I was helpful or funny.

I let out my breath with my teeth. “Look. I'm tired. I heard that Sophia was making trouble again at the café, so I thought that's what I'd find when I got there."

She drank a big gulp of coffee while looking up and down the street as if she was thinking about how to get away.

I told her, "Don't even think about it." "You'd spill your coffee."

I knew I had hit the mark when those pretty hazel eyes got big.

“Fine. But that's just because this is the best latte I've ever had. And is that how you feel sorry? Because asking people if something is wrong is a bad way to do it."

"It was a reason why. It's yours to keep or not." I didn't waste time on unimportant things. Like making small talk or apologizing.

Even though it was only seven in the morning, a bike roared up the street while Rob Zombie blared from the speakers. The guy looked at us and started his car. Wraith was almost 70 years old, but he still managed to get a huge amount of tail with his silver fox tattoos and silver fox look.

Lily watched him with her mouth open because she was interested.

Little Miss Daisies in Her Hair wasn't going to go for a walk on the wild side today.

I gave Wraith the "f**k off" sign, grabbed Lily's expensive coffee, and started walking down the street.

“Hey!”

I knew she would chase, and she did. I could have taken her by the hand, but when I touched her, I didn't really like how I felt. It was hard to understand. I said under my breath, "Should have stayed in f*****g bed."

"What are you doing wrong?" Lily asked as she ran to catch up. She reached for her cup, but I decided to hold it just beyond her reach and kept walking.

"Get in my truck if you don't wish to end up tethered to the back of Wraith's motorcycle."

The messy flower child said some things that didn't sound good about my personality and body.

“Look. If you can stop being annoying for five whole minutes, I'll consider taking you to the station. You can get your damn car, and then you can leave my life."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're as angry as a porcupine?"

I didn't care about her and kept going.

She asked, "How do I know that you're not going to try to hog-tie me yourself?"

I stopped and took a quick look at her. "Honey, you're not my kind of girl."

She rolled her eyes so hard that it was a miracle they didn't pop out and fall to the sidewalk. "Excuse me, I'm going to go cry a river."

I got off the curb and opened my pickup's rear door. "Get in."

"Your kindness stinks," she said.

“Chivalry?”

"What it means is—"

“Jesus. I understand what it says."

And I knew what it meant when she talked about it. She had roses in her freaking hair. She had a romantic side. Another thing I don't like about her. The most difficult women to get rid of were the romantic ones. The ones that stick. The ones who said they could handle the "no strings attached" deal. In the meantime, they were making plans to find "the one." They tried to trick men into meeting their guardians and sneaking a peek at bridal gowns.

When she couldn't get in by herself, I put her coffee in the cup holder behind her.

"I'm not happy with you at all right now," she told him.

There was a lot of energy in the space between us, exactly the sort energy I normally feel right before a good bar fight. Dangerous, adrenalizing. I didn't like it very much.

"Get in the truck, you idiot."

When she did what I said, I thought it was a small miracle and slammed the door in her face.

"Is everything fine there, Kaycee?" Bud Nickelbee called from his hardware store's front door. He was wearing baggy sweats and a Led Zeppelin t-shirt, which was his usual outfit. His thin, gray ponytail, which he'd had for thirty years, hung down his back, making him appear like a heavier, less funny version of George Carlin.

"It's fine," I told him.

His eyes went back and forth between the windshield and Lily. "Give me a call if you need assistance with the body."

I got in the driver's seat and started the car.

She pointed to Bud, who was still watching us, and said, "A witness saw me get into this truck, so I wouldn't kill me now."

Clearly, she hadn't heard what he said.

"I'm not going to kill you!" I yelled. Yet.

She already was buckled in and had crossed her long legs. As she moved her foot around, a flip-flop hung from her toes. Both of her knees were banged up, and I saw a raw cut on the inside of her right forearm. I told myself I didn't want to know and put the truck in reverse. I'd drop her off at the station—hopefully early enough to avoid the people I didn't want to see—and make sure she got her car. If I was lucky, I could still sleep for another hour before I had to start my day for real.

She started by saying, "You know, if one of us should be mad at the other, it's me. Even though I don't know you, you're yelling in my face, getting in the way of my coffee, and then almost taking me away. There's no reason for you to be upset."

"You don't know, sweetie. I have a lot of reasons to be angry, and many of them have to do with your useless sister."

"Sophia might not be the nicest person, but that doesn't mean you can be such a jerk. Lily sniffed. "She's still family."

"I wouldn't call your sister a "people" person." Sophia was the worst kind of bad person. She robbed. She told a lie. She got into fights. Too much to drink, not enough water and didn't care about anybody else. All because she thought everyone else owed her something.

"Listen, whoever you are in hell. Only me, our parents, and the Andersontown High School class of 2003 can talk about her in that way. And possibly the Andersontown Fire Department as well. But they have earned the right to do so. You haven't, and I don't want you to take out your problems with my sister on me."

"Whatever," I said with my teeth clenched.

We didn't talk the rest of the way. A few blocks away from Main Street, the Surulere Police Department shared a new building with the town's public library. The muscle under my eye twitched just from seeing it.

There was a pick-up truck, a cruiser, and a Harley Fat Boy in the parking lot. The chief's SUV was nowhere to be seen. Give thanks to God for the little miracles.

"Hurry up. Let's finish this up."

Lily snorted, "There's no reason for you to come in." She had puppy dog eyes for her empty cup of coffee.

I growled at her and shoved most of my own coffee at her. "I'll get you to the front desk, make sure they have your car, and then I'll never see you again."

“Fine! But I'm not saying thank you."

I didn't answer because I was too busy storming toward the front door and ignoring the big gold letters above it.

"The building for the city of Kaycee Morgan."

I pretended I hadn't heard her and let the glass door close behind me as I walked away.

"Does this town have more than one Kaycee?" She asked as she forced the door open and came in with me.

"No," I said, hoping that would stop people from asking me questions I didn't want to answer. The building was pretty new, and it smelled like fresh paint and had a lot of glass.

"So the building has your name on it?" She tried to keep up with me, so she jogged again.

"Guess so." I pulled open another door on the right and pointed for her to go in.

Surulere's police station looked more like a place where urban hipsters go to work than like a police station. It bothered the police officers, who were proud of their moldy, falling-apart bunker with fluorescent lights that flickered and carpets that were stained from years of criminals.

The only thing I didn't hate was how annoyed they were by the bright paint and shiny new office furniture.

The Surulere PD tried to get back to their roots by putting precious towers of case files on bamboo desks with adjustable heights and making too cheap, too strong coffee around the clock. On the counter, there was an open box of stale donuts, and powdered sugar was all over. But so far, nothing had taken away from how new the Kaycee Morgan Building looked.

Sergeant Grave Hopper was at his desk stirring a half-pound of sugar into his coffee. He used to be in a motorcycle club, but he quit and now coaches his daughter's softball team on weeknights and mows lawns on weekends. His and his wife's mother's. But once a year, he would put his wife on the back of his motorcycle and head out to the open road to relive their glory days.

When he saw me and my guest, he almost threw the whole mug over himself.

"What are you doing, Kaycee?" Grave asked, now staring at Lily straight on.

Around town, everyone knew that I avoided the police as much as possible. Sophia was the kind of trouble I didn't like, so that wasn't really news either.

"Here's Lily." "It's Sophia's twin," I said. "She just arrived in town, and she says that her car was taken away. "You got it back there?"

Surulere PD normally had more pressing issues to worry about other than parking, so they let people park wherever they wanted, whenever they wanted, as long as it wasn't right on the sidewalk.

Grave pointed his coffee stirrer at us and said, "I'm going to come back to that whole twin sister thing." "But first, I'm the only one here so far today, and I haven't towed anything."

Fuck. I stuck my hand in my hair.

"Do you know who else would have done it if you hadn't?" Lily asked with hope.

Sure. I come in to save the day and drive her down here, but it was grizzled Grave who got the smile and sweet words.

Grave, the jerk, was listening to everything she said and grinning at her like she was a seven-layer chocolate cake.

"Well, Tin, er, I mean Lily," started Grave. "As far as I can tell, two things could have happened. A: You didn't remember where you parked. But it doesn't seem likely that a girl like you would live in a town this small."

She said, "No, it doesn't," but she didn't call him "Captain Obvious."

"Or B—Your car was stolen."

I said goodbye to my hour of sleep.

"I parked right in front of the pet store because it was close to the cafe where I was supposed to meet my sister."

Grave looked at me, and I nodded. It would be best to just rip this part off like a bandage.

"So Sophia knew you were coming to town and where you would be?" he asked to be sure.

He was putting things down, but Lily wasn't picking them up. She gave a hopeful, wide-eyed nod. “Yes. Last night, she called me. She told me she was in trouble and asked me to meet her at Café Rev at 7 a.m. today."

"Well, now, honey," Grave said. "Of course, I don't want to throw stones. But could it be—"

"Your sister, you scumbag, stole your car," I said.

The hazel eyes of Lily cut me deep. She didn't look happy or sweet anymore. No. She looked like she was going to do something wrong. Maybe even a felony.

Grave said, "I'm afraid Kaycee is right here." "Since she moved to town a year ago, your sister has been making trouble. This is probably not the first time she's stolen a car."

Lily's nostrils flared delicately. She took a few gulps of my coffee and then threw the empty cup into the trash can by the desk. "Thanks for helping. Please let me know if you see a blue Volvo with a Nice Matters bumper sticker.

Christ.

"I don't think you have one of those phone apps that can tell you where your car is, do you?" Grave asked.

She reached for her pocket, then stopped and squeezed her eyes shut for a second. "I did."

"But you don't no more?"

"I'm without a phone. Last night, mine, uh, broke."

"Yes, that's fine. If you give me the license plate, I can put out a call so police will be on the lookout," Grave said, handing her a piece of paper and a pen.

She took them and began writing in a neat, swooping handwriting.

"You could also leave your contact information, like where you're staying, so that Nash or I can keep you up to date."

The name gave me a bad feeling.

"Happy to," Lily said, sounding anything but.

“Uh. You might have a husband or boyfriend whose contact information you can add?"

I gave him a glare.

Lily gave a head shake. “No.”

He tried once more, "Perhaps a wife or girlfriend?"

"I'm single," she said, and her voice was just uncertain enough to make me want to know more.

"Imagine that. So that's our leader," Grave said, sounding as blameless as a six-foot-tall biker with a criminal record could.

"Can we go back to the part where you tell Lily you'll call her if you seek her car, which everyone know you won't?" I snapped.

"Well, we won't if you keep acting like that," she told him.

This was the last time I rode to help someone in trouble. It wasn't my job to do it. Had nothing to do with me. And now I couldn't sleep because of it.

He asked Lily, who was writing down her information, "How long are you in town?"

"Only as long as it takes to find and kill my sister," she said, capping the pen and sliding the paper back. "Sergeant, I really appreciate your help."

"No problem."

She looked up at me when she saw me. We looked at each other for a beat. “Kaycee.”

“Lily.”

After saying that, she sped out of the station.

Grave couldn't understand how two sisters could look so much alike but have nothing else in common.

I told her the truth, "I don't want to know," and went outside to find her.

I saw her walking back and forth and talking to herself near the wheelchair ramp.

"What are you going to do?" I asked, giving up.

She looked at me with pursed lips. "Plan?" she asked again and again as her voice broke.

I felt the urge to fight or run away. I hated tears like f**k; especially tears that come from women. When a woman cried, I felt like I was being torn apart from the inside out. It was a weapon I'd never tell anyone about.

I told her, "Don't cry."

Her eyes were damp. “Cry? I won't cry."

She lied about everything.

"Don't cry like a baby. It's just a car, and she's nothing special. Neither is something to be sad about."

She blinked quickly, and I couldn't tell if she was going to cry or yell at me again. But I was surprised that she didn't do either. She put her shoulders back and gave a nod. "You are correct. All it is is a car. I'll be able to get new credit cards, a new purse, and more honey mustard dipping sauces."

"Tell me where to drop you off, and I'll do it. You can rent a car and get going." I pointed with my thumb to my truck.

She looked up and down the street again, probably hoping that a hero in a suit and tie would show up. She sighed when no one did. "The motel gave me a room."

In town, there was only one motel. A one-story, one-star dump that didn't deserve a real name. I thought it was great that she had actually checked in.

We didn't talk as we walked back to my truck. When her shoulder touched my arm, it felt like my skin was getting hot. I opened the door for her again. Not because I was a gentleman, but because I liked being close for some strange reason.

I didn't close the door and turn the truck until she was buckled in. "Honey mustard sauces to dip?"

She looked at me as I slid into the driver's seat. Have you heard about that dude who drove through a barrier in the winter a few years ago?"

It sounded like something I knew.

"For three days, he just ate ketchup packets."

"You want to drive through a fence?"

“No. But I prefer to be ready. And I don't really like ketchup."