Jed Had to Die

His words make me feel giggly and not sorry for myself at all anymore, which causes me to put my guard down and blurt out something stupid.

“I should hope not, considering you’re only the third-and-a-half man I’ve slept with in my entire life.”

Leo’s hand drops from face and I slap mine over my mouth, staring up at him with wide eyes. There’s never a good time to tell a man how many other men you’ve slept with, especially fifteen minutes after you last slept with him, and when your number is so alarmingly low that he’s going to wonder how you even knew what to do.

“How exactly does one sleep with half a man?” Leo asks, a grin twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“It has a little something to do with that thing you did last night. And first thing this morning. And you know what? I don’t feel very comfortable talking about this. The half-thing is a very technical numbering scale that requires a lot of math, vodka, and poor decisions that I don’t have time to explain right now,” I inform him when I remove my hand from my mouth and try to pull out of his arms so I can hide under the kitchen table and enjoy my mortification in peace.

He tightens his hold on me and refuses to let me go.

“So what you’re saying is, after all that math, vodka, and poor decisions, I’m only the third guy you’ve technically slept with?”

I glare up at him and give him my best I’m not happy with you right now look.

“Wipe that cocky smirk off your face or I’ll go down to the station and give my own report confirming that the sheriff of Bald Knob does indeed likes to sleep with a murderer.”

And once again, I say something stupid which completely kills the mood. For me. Leo is too busy still smiling down at me all proud of himself to worry about the chaos and guilt going on in my brain. He leans his head down to kiss me and I quickly bring my hand up between us and press it against his lips to halt his progress.

“Leo, there’s something I need-”

“PUT YOUR CLOTHES ON! MOMMY AND MOMMY ARE HOME!” Bettie yells from the hallway as the front door slams closed.

“Son of a bitch. What is this, Grand Central Interrupting Station this morning?” I mutter under my breath when Leo drops his arms from around me and we turn to face Bettie and Emma Jo as they walk into the kitchen.

“My, my, don’t you look…satisfied this morning,” Bettie says with a smirk, crossing her tattooed arms in front of her while she leans her hip against the kitchen table.

“How was your Brazilian wax last night? Did they have to call in reinforcements and order a cement truck mixer of melted wax to remove the jungle between your legs?” I ask sweetly.

“I wouldn’t know. The entire state of Kentucky now has a wax shortage and the spa workers have PTSD after dealing with your vagina wilderness,” Bettie lobs back with her own sweet smile.

“Alright, that’s enough, you two,” Emma Jo scolds, moving to stand between us. “What Bettie meant to say is that we’re sorry we interrupted you guys.”

“Nope. Pretty sure I said exactly what I meant to say,” Bettie states.

“Suck it,” I tell her, with a flip of my middle finger.

“Are you two really friends or arch enemies?” Leo asks, pulling me against him, probably assuming I’m going to launch myself at Bettie and punch her in the face.

“She’s one of my best friends, and I love her more than anything, duh,” I reply with an eye roll.

“I love her more and let me just remind you, if you hurt her, I will slit your throat,” Bettie adds, emphasizing her statement by sliding her finger across her neck.

“I’m so confused,” Leo mumbles as I pat my hand against his chest sympathetically before moving away from him to pour Bettie a cup of coffee.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” Emma Jo continues, “we didn’t want to interrupt and we planned on sitting out on the front porch for a little while when we got home, but there is a God-awful smell outside and we couldn’t take more than a few seconds out there. It smells like something died.”

Bettie moves next to me while I wait for Baby Cecil to spit out some golden goodness.

“She’s not kidding. It’s really bad out there,” she whispers in my ear while Emma Jo and Leo are busy talking about whatever is outside stinking up the neighborhood. “What did you do last night, aside from ride the hot sheriff like a wild bull? Do I need to club him like a baby seal so you can dispose of more evidence?”

“Alright, counting Starla, that makes three people who’ve complained about a mysterious smell,” Leo announces, making Bettie and I turn around to look at him. “You ladies stay here while I go out and see what it is.”

“Fuck that, we’re going with you,” Bettie informs him, waving her arm for Emma Jo and I to follow along as Leo leads the way out of the kitchen and down the hall.

“I’ve got a tire iron in the trunk of the rental car. Just say the word…” Bettie whispers in my ear again as we head outside, down the front porch, and make our way around the side of the house.

The four of us traipse through the back yard, the smell getting stronger and more horrible the closer we get to the back of Emma Jo’s property, until we all have to cover our noses as we walk.

“IF YOU FIND ANOTHER DEAD BODY BACK THERE, SHERIFF, I CAN SEND OVER BO JANGLES TO STAND GUARD AND MAKE SURE PAYTON DOESN’T TRY TO FLEE THE SCENE!” Starla shouts from the other side of her fence.