BLYTHE LANDRY
When two people grew up together in a small town, it was hard to know who found what first. Blythe remembered the times that her father took her to all of his favorite secret gems of Boot Hill. Places that his father took him and her grandfather’s father before. A town legacy exploring the old and the new. This spot being one of those hidden gems. But, who was Blythe to know if Orion didn’t do the same. This could have been hers before they started anything. It could have been a spot that they both shared without even knowing it. “I’m not going anywhere.” There was some double meaning in her words. Blythe wasn’t going anywhere. If she was, she would have turned around the moment she saw the raven haired beauty. She would have avoided Orion at every chance she could. But, here she was. Constantly sparing with the woman who stole her heart and refused to give it back, no matter how bad they were for each other.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” Blythe spat back, not knowing why the two of them were even continuing on with each other. It was all pointless. They were constantly going in circles getting no where. Just saying words that they knew would hurt each other. They were calculated and methodical. At Orion’s question, Blythe couldn’t help the short laugh that escaped her lips. She had given up a lot for Orion. Part of it was her integrity at a deputy. She had so much to prove within the department. Being the youngest and a woman in the boys club was hard. She was a town legacy and that made things even harder. All eyes were on her, and for some reason, she fell in love with a petty criminal. “Name one thing you gave up for me.” Blythe said softly. Her face falling into the softness. Different from the furrowed brows with a look that kill. The only thing that could be seen through her features was how much love the deputy still held for Orion. “I’m not going to ruin it for you.”
Leaning her head against the back of the plastic adirondack chair, Blythe closed her eyes. This hurt more than anything. The severity of their lives when it came to how much they didn’t care any longer. She didn’t say anything. She just sat there, tears forming in her eyes. How did they let it get this far? How did she still love her this much? Even after all of this time. Minutes passed between them. The only thing that they could hear were the sounds of Boot Hill waking up for the day. The sun was finally up and the heat was setting in. The day was starting but all Blythe wanted was for it to end. “I can’t do this anymore, Orion.” Blythe finally broke the silence they were sitting in. “I still love you.”
“Must be my lucky day.” She deadpanned. Was there such a thing as a comforting threat? As the word ‘anywhere’ seemed to linger in the air between them, she grabbed onto it. As easily and Blythe could’ve descended back down the fire escape the moment she saw Orion already claiming the space, she herself could’ve left. Wished the other a good morning, fuck off, and crawled back into her own cold, empty bed. It would’ve been easier than this — trying to decipher double meanings, look for the chinks in the armor. But no, Orion knew. It wouldn’t have been an easier. She would’ve crawled back into bed, and lie awake thinking about the girl on the rooftop. As she’d done a thousand nights and a thousand mornings before, and would do for thousands more.
She chortled, still bristling with irritation — and something else. Under her clothes, under her skin, both courses Blythe navigated with far more ease than she had any right to. “Threats have a timeline, officer. Promises, though. That’s for-fucking-ever. Or until your girlfriend has you in cuffs, and not even in the fun way.” She volleyed back, brow raised in defiance. She was nowhere nearly as familiar with the law as Blythe — her own lessons had been learned the hard way. Or, by a public defender who represented her in a civil suit when she ‘allegedly’ threatened a patron at the Schoolhouse Cafe. Her saving grace had been the lack of witnesses, and the fact that she did indeed say she would put a fork through his femoral artery if he didn’t stop harassing the other waitress on duty, but she’d never said when. (Though, in Orion’s opinion, the ‘now’ was implied.) Either way, the case had been dismissed, and she’d learned not to be so damned specific with her outbursts.
Orion narrowed her eyes. “Not how it works. You don’t just get to bounce shit back to me because you don’t have an answer.” She said. She had her own answer, though. It was a simple one. Everything. In fits and spurts, little bursts of sacrifice that Blythe didn’t ask for, and didn’t expect. What Orion didn’t give up was the one thing Blythe asked her to. Maybe that was why she hadn’t. She’d had a lifetime of people asking things from her — hell, she’d grown up with a black hole for a mother. Anything that was around Eleanor Hart for too long got sucked in and spit out in shambles. She was, after all, her mother’s daughter. “You will.” She sighed, a bit of the fight going out of Orion. “You always fuckin’ do. It’s not even your goddamn fault, that’s the worst part about it.”
The silence that settled in was nothing like the serenity they used to have — a sense of peace Orion used to hold dear. The Arizona sun was growing hot on her face in it’s ascent, and she would happily blame it for the heat in her cheeks. As soon as she heard Blythe start to speak, Orion wanted to stop the words from passing her lips. Whatever they were going to be, she didn’t want to hear them. She knew by the heaviness between them that whatever they were going to be, she could never unhear them. Still, her eyes locked on Blythe, waiting. She let out a breath, though it felt more like it’d been pulled from her lungs. Once again, she waited. For what, she wasn’t sure. A cruel phrase? The inevitable ‘I love you, but...’ But that never came. Orion felt that heat again, unsure if it was anger, or something else. Shaking her head. “Don’t.” As if it were a faucet that Blythe could just turn off. As if she could. Because in that moment, Blythe looked so irreparably sad, Orion continued on. “I’ll tear you apart because that, that’s what I do. And because you’re so goddamn good, you’ll let me. And I can’t take it when you finally get sick of my shit, Blythe. Not again.” Though, it was like her body took it’s own agency as she spoke, because her hand was against Blythe’s cheek, and her lips were against hers.












