"I can feel the deadbolt sliding out of the lock," I said. "It's almost there."
"Hold on," he murmured.
Before I could ask what and how I was to hold on, Linden rammed his shoulder against the panel, the door swung open, and we stumbled inside.
He recovered quickly, pushing to his feet and saying, "Like I told you, sometimes these old doors stick."
Sticky old doors and the beastly men who break them down.
"I appreciate your efforts," I replied, ignoring his outstretched hand as I gathered myself up and stood. It was the best I could do. I was in too much of a miserable snit to properly thank him for his help.
"Don't mention it." Then, leaning into the open doorway, he frowned. "Do you hear that?" He set his hands on his hips—which required me to study both—and glanced from side to side. "It sounds like—" He suddenly pushed me to the floor, one hand on the back of my head as a sudden burst of high-pitched squeaks exploded from somewhere inside the cottage. "Bats. Stay down. Stay out of their way and they'll ignore us," he said, his words warm as he spoke them against my ear.
All at once, the noise was upon us, a long-rumbling roll of thunder punctuated by squeals and slaps. All told, this exodus lasted less than a minute but every second pressed facedown on a dirty porch floor while a swarm—flock? who knew?—of startled bats passed overhead was a series of increasingly ridiculous eternities.
As for the hot neighbor who didn't know how to mind his own business, he was doing a fine job of shielding me from the bats with that girth and muscle of his. Whether he needed to cup my breast to accomplish this was debatable but he wasn't taking advantage any more than I was with my elbow cozied up between his legs.
The accidental intimacy wasn't his fault though I was reminded once again I could've managed all of this on my own. That included the bats. Surprising? Yes. Incapacitating? Absolutely not.
"I think that's the last of them." He unhanded my breast and peeled himself off me. Not even a thank you, ma'am for the groping. "But let's get away from the door in case there are any stragglers."
I didn't know when this had evolved from an I endeavor to an us, though it bothered me enough to once again ignore the hand he offered to help me up.
Help was the last thing I wanted from anyone. Help was an unclosed loop and it never failed to cost me more than I could afford.
Help was off the table but I didn't mind common sense, which was why I marched down the porch, Linden following behind me. My nipples, after the pleasantly rough treatment received, were one step ahead of us.
"I'll call my bat guy. He'll be able to tell us how they got inside and where they nested," he said when we reached the driveway. Again with the us. "Whether they left any friends or family behind too."
There was a snicker and I blinked hard at the man beside Linden, the one I hadn't noticed until now. The one who looked strikingly similar to him but also completely different. They had to be brothers.
"Of course you have a bat guy," he said.
"Yeah, I have a bat guy," Linden replied. "Just like you probably have a tax fraud guy."
The other man consulted his watch and bobbed his head. "I have a tax fraud lady but I get where you're going with this." He glanced at me. "Hi. Ash Santillian."
"Hello." I shook his hand, which was nearly as large as Linden's. They were like copycat versions of each other, one light, one dark, and varying shades of severe. "I'm Jasper-Anne Cleary and I assure you, I wasn't attempting to break into this house."
"I can see that now," Ash replied with a laugh. It was easy to joke with him. He didn't seem poised to rip a door off its hinges or a tree clear out of the earth for the simple pleasure of proving he could.
I offered Ash a pleasant smile as Linden strolled inside the cottage, phone pressed to his ear. I didn't recall inviting him to wander around but the recurring theme of this morning seemed to be Linden's general disinterest in such niceties.
"You both live next door?" I asked.
"No, no," Ash replied. "My fiancée and I live in Boston."
From somewhere beneath all of this exhaustion and stress, my social graces switched on. I was nothing if not a robot when it came to chatting people up. "Oh, what do y'all do in Boston?"
"I'm an accountant and she's in grad school for archaeology." He peered at me for a moment, his eyes narrow as he studied my face. "You've visited before, right? You look so familiar."
I grinned around a gulp of panic. "Not in a long time," I said. "I just have one of those familiar faces."
He tapped his cheek near the corner of his mouth, in the exact spot of the thumbprint birthmark on my cheek. "I swear I've seen you before. Do you happen to work in financial services?"
I couldn't cover up the birthmark without a gallon of stage-grade concealer which meant I needed to adopt a hat-and-sunglasses disguise if I wanted an ounce of anonymity. That was a nightmare, considering my head was all wrong for hats but there was no way in hell I was coloring my hair. I'd just hide it. I'd hide everything. I was appallingly good at it. "No, not in finance," I said. "I don't believe we've met."
That much was true.
"What do you do?" he asked, still studying me with far more interest than I needed right now.
"Mmhmm. Consulting, mostly," I managed. That was somewhat true. "I'm taking a break to see to my aunt's estate."
This would've been a fine time for another battalion of bats to emerge. Anything to keep Ash from connecting my face to the disasters in my wake.
"Does that take you on the road a lot?"
I managed a mild "Mmhmm" as I watched Linden descend the steps. Still couldn't get over him roaming about my property. The boy just didn't require an invitation for anything.
"The bats are the least of your problems," Linden announced as he joined us.
"Such a ray of sunshine you are," Ash said.
They traded brotherly expressions for a moment and the plain authenticity of it almost drew a laugh from me. Almost. Laughing was for people not dead on their feet and thinking up clever disguises to avoid being recognized by anyone with cable news access or an internet connection.
"Listen," Linden started, "my guess is the bats came down the chimney. They fucked up the living room. It's a disaster in there."
I waved a hand. "It's fine. I don't need a living room right now. There are plenty of other rooms for me."
He chuckled. "You can't stay in that house."
I peered at him, my emotions and exhaustion fighting to get the better of me, and I knew I had to politely end this conversation. Thank you for the help. Thank you for the fondling. I should be getting on about it now. Instead, I folded my arms over my chest and said, "Remind me again why the hell you're still here?"
3
Linden
The lady asked a damn good question. What the hell was I doing here? I could've called up my bat guy and left her to it. I didn't need to supervise. I didn't need to stay. I didn't have to care about any of this.