Page 4 of Tex's Angel

Tonight’s dream is pretty amazing. I’m walking down a long winding path with beautiful flowers all around. Everything is all rainbows and butterflies until my knees give out for no apparent reason. Just when I’m in danger of falling face first onto the stone sidewalk, big, strong, warm arms come out of nowhere to break my fall. Suddenly my face is smashed against a muscular chest. I have no idea who this man is, but he smells fantastic. Just when I’m about to look up into my hero’s face, a loud blaring sound forces me awake.

I slowly realize it’s my car alarm going off again. A quick glance at the clock on my nightstand tells me it’s two in the morning, right in the middle of my sleep cycle. I can’t believe this is happening again. My car alarm has been going off so often atnight for the past few weeks, that I sleep with my key fob on the nightstand.

The incessant beeping is making my head hurt. My neighbors have already been complaining about it happening so often, so, I grope for key fob, swing my arm around and point it towards the window. The second I hit the button the noise stops. With a groan, I turn over and pull the blankets up over my head. I want that dream back more than I want air to breathe. Slamming my eyes closed doesn’t help. My tall, dark, handsome stranger that smelled so great is gone.

Ten minutes later it happens again. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I say out loud even though I’m the only person in the house. This is the first time it’s happened twice in one night.

What in the world is going on?

I throw back the covers, climb out of bed in my pajamas and slide my feet into my slippers and shuffle over to the window to have a look for myself. I see a light come on in the house opposite. Damn it. I raise the fob and hit the button to turn off the alarm for the second time tonight. I stand there for a good five minutes and don’t see anything unusual going on. Maybe it was the wind blowing hard enough to set off the alarm, I reason to myself. I’d taken the car to the garage last week, but the mechanic said everything looked in order.

I turn around to go back to bed and the damn thing goes off again. Huffing in exasperation and muttering under my breath, I head for the front door. Enough is enough. I let the alarm blare away, wrapping my hand around the small canister of mace dangling off the keychain.

At this point, I’m reasonably certain it must be neighborhood kids messing around with my vehicle. I’ve seen a few of them out at all hours and wondered if they slipped away or if their parents worked nights and couldn’t supervise them properly. I guess this is the modern-day equivalent of knocking and then running away. At least they’re not leaving flaming bags of dog poop on my porch, I remind myself. It could be a lot worse. It didn’t matter who or why, because tonight I’m determined to catch them.

I rush out the front door with my mace held up and run around my car, ready to catch the culprit in the act, only to find no one crouched down behind the vehicle.

This when a deep voice calls out to me from the side, “Turn that damn alarm off, woman. Some of us are tryin’ to get some shut eye here.”

It’s my grouchy neighbor with the unruly teen son. I quickly turn off the alarm and walk over to talk to him from across the short hedgerow that separates my front yard from his.

Before I can speak, he asks in a grumpy tone of voice. “Is this what y’all do to get attention or something?”

Shocked by his ridiculous question, I stammer, “What? No. Of course not. What kind of question is that?”

The hot bastard is standing there wearing only his pajama pants, which are hung low on his hips, showing off every delicious tattoo on his muscular body. I try not to stare as he brings out one beefy arm to gesture towards my car.

“That alarm sure as fuck goes off a lot and I don’t ever see anyone messing with your car. It makes me think that you’re setting it off yourself for some nefarious reason.”

I give him the evilest glare imaginable. “That’s got to be the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard a grown man say out loud.”

“Don’t be getting uppity with me for speaking my mind.”

Frowning at him more deeply, I add, “Just so you know I have to be at work by seven-thirty every morning, it’s not exactly fun for me either.”

“Yeah, I don’t have to be a fucking detective to know that you’re a schoolteacher. Everybody’s seen your teacher of the year bumper sticker.” The sexy biker asshole is smirking all over the place, while his big chromed out Harley gleams in the driveway behind him.

I give him an indignant huff. “I have a right to be proud of that achievement.” Bringing up one hand I point to him and squiggle my finger around in the air, I tell him, “You’d have to be stupid to think that I’m the one waking myself up all the time.”

He just shrugs his beefy shoulders. “For all I know, you’re an insomniac and this is what y’all do for shits and giggles.” He even has the audacity to make my little squiggle gesture back at me. “Maybe you’re up at all hours and think if y’all can’t sleep, you’re not gonna let any of us sleep either. Misery loves company.” The last line was said with dark glee, like he’d finally figured me out.

I snort a laugh, “I don’t know anything of the sort. You’re the most miserable man I know, and I’ve noticed you never seem to have any company.” I fold my arms over my chest and glareat the asshole. If looks could kill, he’d drop dead right where he stands.

“This is apeshit crazy, woman. You seriously need a mental health eval, you know that, Teach?”

“My name is Clara Collins. Don’t call me woman, like I’m some generic person of the female gender.”

He squints his eyes at me. “Is this the part where we start talking about pronoun preferences and gender equality, because it is, you can count me the fuck out, I ain’t got time for that shit.”

“What in the world are you even talking about? You just accused me of setting off my own car alarm on purpose. I’m telling you I didn’t and now you’re talking about irrelevant stuff.”

A short silence spins out between us. With each second that ticks by, my suspicions grow. “So where’s that delinquent son of yours? Maybe he’s the one messing with my car and you’re trying to throw me off his scent by going off on a tangent about gender equality.”

Suddenly, the upstairs window slides open with a bang and his son sticks his head out. “I’m not a delinquent. I do, however, love to sleep, probably more than any human being on earth. So, if the two of you could shut the fuck up, I think the entire neighborhood would appreciate it.”

Damn, despite his foul mouth the kid was articulate, I’d give him that. I knew his son didn’t go to Las Salinas High School. If he did, I’d have at least seen him around. His dad didn’t look like the average private school parent either. It made me wonder if the kid was even in school.

My neighbor opens his mouth to yell at his son, but the teen slams the window shut so hard, I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter the glass.

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