Big Gator: A BBW shape shifter paranormal romance (5 page)

             
The
whole thing was a weird setup, if you think about it, but Ray was
raking in the cash.  Brandy never understood why the bar and
health club was never enough for him – why he had to keep breaking
the law.  Ray was a bookie. The good old fashioned kind. He
didn't get his hands dirty with anything else anymore, or so he
said. 

             
Ray
used to be a car thief, until he served 5 years.  Then he ran a
chop shop and got seven years. He went in at 18, got out at 23, and
went back in at 25.  He'd been out for two years.

             
While
Brandy and Marianne were lying low at Sons-of-Guns, the late-night
news eventually came on, and Brandy was the top story. At the bar,
some guy whooped.

             “
C'mon
now! I'll go hunt that bitch down for $25,000!”

             
This
brought a round of laughs.

             “
He
doesn't want you to kill her, Ed,” someone said. “He wants you to
trap her.  Do you really know how to wrestle a gator without
getting hurt?”

             
What
if this were all true?  What if there were a bunch of fools out
there right now looking for
her?

             “
You
better not shift for awhile,” Marianne said.

             
Brandy
decided that the two of them should do one final shot of tequila. 
They licked the skin between their thumb and forefinger, sprinkled
some sea salt on the area and licked it again.  Tossing back the
tequila, Marianne sucked on a lime before breathing in, so she could
avoid the overwhelming taste of the tequila.

             
Brandy
liked the taste of tequila.  She wasn't so quick to grab a lime
wedge. Instead, a moment after, she squeezed the lime into a glass of
ice water.  She was hatching a plan in her head.  She
needed a job, and Jake McEvans apparently felt he needed HER.

Chapter 6

             
In
the end, Marianne ended up dragging Brandy over to McAlister's after
midnight, despite the fact that Brandy was avoiding Ray. 
Marianne had the hots for Ray's brother Kyle, who was guaranteed to
be there tonight.  The bar technically was Ray's, but Kyle held
the liquor license. Ray was disqualified from doing so, being an
ex-con.

             
McAlister's
was a real feel-good place and a local watering hole for shifters. 
This was a multi-generational hangout, so on Sundays you could bring
the kids in for brunch.  There was always an Early Bird Special,
no matter what time of day, for retired shifters.  Ray had a
license that technically set last call at 2 a.m., but the health club
next door was open 24 hours.

             
Kyle
was standing at the door, all six-feet-of-him, when the two women
arrived.

             “
Hey,
Kyle,” Marianne practically giggled.

             
Kyle
was lanky and ruddy, with a shock brown hair that couldn't make up
its mind about a hairstyle. Kyle was good people, Honest Abe when
compared with his brother.  He was a good looking kid, and
Brandy was wondering if he would ever be smart enough to make a move
on her best friend, who clearly had been drooling after him since
forever.

             “
No
cover for shifters tonight,” he said.

             “
There's
never a cover,” Brandy said.

             “
Oh
yeah, forgot,” he grinned. “Just playin' with you.”

             
Marianne
tried to linger, but Brandy pushed her through the door.

             
When
the two women walked in, the bar was its usual honky tonk, fun-lovin'
self. Young men played pool out back, and another set shot darts in a
corner.  Country and Western music played on a digital jukebox. 
The place had an amazing sound system, and on Friday and Saturday
nights there was live music.  Kyle's brother booked the bands
for Ray, and he also handled security, overseeing the bouncers.

             
Brandy
and Marianne got a booth and
–
God
help them both since they'd been drinking all night
–
a
couple of beers.  Ray was behind the bar, tall as his brother,
but wider through the shoulders.  The same ruddy complexion and
the same color hair, only Ray's was curly. If she didn't know what he
was about, any woman would find him attractive.

             
It
was no surprise that, despite the full house, Ray immediately
realized that Brandy was onsite.  He brought their beers over
personally.

             “
Here
comes trouble,” Marianne said.

             “
Whatever,”
Brandy said.

             
Ray
came up to the table, set down two frosty beers and then stood back,
eyeing Brandy like she was candy.

             “
Somebody 
around here reportedly is the most wanted woman – ehem, gator –
this side of Interstate 95.”

             “
Ha
ha, Ray,” Brandy said.

             “
You
know, $25,000 cash is a LOTTA money, Cream Puff.”

             “
Leave
her alone, Ray,” Marianne said.  “She got into a brawl with
the Cliburn brothers and had to escape for her life.”

             “
The
Cliburn brothers?” Ray asked. “Is she serious?”

             
Brandy
stuck out her left leg to show Ray the bandage around her ankle.

             “
I'm
drinking to kill the pain,” she said.

             
Ray
lost the attitude for a second and genuinely looked concerned.

             “
This
ain't no joke, girl,” he said.  “Those guys don't play. 
I told you not to go after Hugh like that.”

             “
I
had no choice,” she said.

             “
Yeah,
you did,” Ray said.  “Just like your brother did.  I
know you don't want to hear this.  And I know those guys are
evil.  But your brother, in the end, was responsible for his own
actions.  No one made him overdose other than himself.”

             
This
was a sore spot.  Ray was taking some risk here confronting
Brandy like this.   Marianne knew he was genuinely
concerned for her, though, and he was trying to give her a – albeit
painful – reality check.

             
Brandy's
cheeks flushed with liquor and anger, but she kept her mouth shut.
She was not in the mood to go rounds with Ray McAlister.

             
Marianne
tried to distract them by changing the subject.

             “
Who’s
the old guy with Mr. and Mrs. Thomason?”

             
Mr.
Jim Thomason ran a local branch of a national bank, and he and his
wife were NOT shifters.  Clearly, neither was this guy.

             “
He's
a real estate guy,” Ray said. “He's in town with the intent on
buying up every short sale he can find. My guess is, he's buying out
bad mortgages from Thomason's bank.

             
One
of the bar's attractions for non-shifting locals with bad habits was
the fact that you could still smoke in McAlister's.
 
Case-in-point: 
The Thomasons – chain-smoking away across the room.
Ray
continually fixed the books to erase any income from the sale of food
that would represent more than 10 percent of his income, and thus
eliminate his right for a pass on the state smoking ban.

             
How
regular folks mixed with shifters without ever figuring out what was
right in front of their face was beyond Brandy.  Then again, no
shifting ever occurred in the bar, and non-shifters were not allowed
membership to the health club. Ray would always brush someone off
saying that the club already was at maximum capacity.

             
Ray
was eyeballing Brandy now with his usual rapacity.  She had
slept with him once, when he got out of prison the
first
time. 
Okay, fine, she'll admit it – then she slept with him again when he
got out the
second
time. 
But that was it,
two
times. 
She had fun, but she did NOT want to grow old with this man.

             “
What
could I do with $25,000?” Ray wondered allowed.

             “
You
don't need $25,000,” Brandy scoffed.  “You're not short on
cash by any stretch of the imagination.”

             “
No,
you're right,” he agreed.  Then he turned his attention to
Marianne.

             “
I've
been meaning to talk to you,” he said. “My cousin's got a
problem.  She got herself knocked up.”

             
If
he was talking to Marianne about this, that meant his cousin got
herself pregnant during her shift.

             “
It's
not mating season,” Marianne said. “What the hell happened?”

             “
She
and her boyfriend got drunk and high and then decided to go for a
swim.  She was on the Pill, so she thought there wouldn't be any
risk.”

             “
What
is she, daft?  Human birth control pills don't work for
alligators!” Marianne exclaimed.

             
This
was one thing that any smart female gator shifter feared – that she
would get knocked up during her shift. That meant life would never be
the same again.  It's the difference between having the national
average of two children per household versus 20-40.

             
If
a shifter gets herself in trouble like this, Marianne was the woman
she wanted to see.  Not because she would help a woman get rid
of them – no – but she would help a woman deal with them.
Marianne ran a daycare center for shifter hatchlings. No woman could
take care of 20+ children every day without help.

             
Here
are some things to consider:

             
If
a shifter spends time
in
vitro
as
a human, then his or her first shift into alligator form doesn't
occur until puberty.  That leaves plenty of time for a mother to
prepare her child for the shifter lifestyle.             
If a shifter is
hatched
,
however, then he lives his first two or three years as an alligator.
His first shift into human form doesn't happen until he’s a
toddler, if he manages to survive his first few years.  So the
hatched shifter has no idea that he’s a human at all until that
age, which gives a whole new meaning to “The Terrible Twos.”  
Shifter hatchlings are cute as hell but they are bratty and
mischievous beyond anything most human mothers can imagine.

             
Now
also consider the fact that female gators lay 20-50 fertilized eggs
at a time.  Shifter hatchlings are tougher than regular
hatchlings, so they have a 75 percent survival rate up through
maturity.  For normal gators, there is only a 10 percent
survival rate up through maturity.