47. Shane
47
Shane
I pace the kitchen, checking out the window every few seconds as Wheeter groans around a sock.
“You gotta keep still!” Josiah yells.
He spits out the sock.
“But fucking hell, that hurt!”
Josiah is currently cleaning up the wound on Wheeter’s thigh because Wheeter isn’t into paying for health insurance. Goes against the grain of who he is, as he so eloquently says. Luckily, he got away with his outer thigh only being nicked by the bullet. He could’ve been killed.
Wes fearfully fired the weapon after I jumped him. I was smart enough to interpret the comment. You’re nothing but a big dog without his teeth . I knew that he’d somehow gotten his hands on Rocco, either torturing or killing him in retaliation. I’d assumed the worst, and I lost it. Yet again, I couldn't handle the emotions, and my friend got injured in the process. It just all happened so fast.
Now I wait for Montana and tweedle-twat to arrive back at the house.
I couldn’t blame her for using him as a ride. She was right to have called someone. I hadn’t even thought through what would happen once I got to the house. I’d raced out on my bike so fast, ready to spill some blood. Nothing could stop me. Either way, I’m not exactly skipping for joy that they’re at the vet with my dog together. Trusting anyone is a steep hill to climb, especially because the girl who’d siphoned my life away through nothing but lies is the one I’m forced to place my trust in. Fortunately, I happen to know that Rocco is growing on her. I was about to search the city for them when she updated me by text, letting me know they were already on their way back.
When the vehicle pulls up, I race down the concrete path, swinging along the edge of the rusted fence as I take the corner to rush to them. Opening the trunk before they even stop the vehicle, I see the lone blanket, covered in crusted blood, with no dog.
Nausea overtakes me. She said he was going to be okay. She promised.
“Shane!” Montana calls to me from the passenger seat. “Up here!”
It’s then I see that she’s somehow holding my eighty-pound Doberman in her lap. Her seat sits reclined back, and her arms drape around him protectively.
“He didn’t want to leave my side,” she smiles tenderly, rubbing the top of his head between his ears in a soft, steady motion.
He lifts his head, trying to move toward me, but somewhat rolls over in her arms, his head heavy and falling into the crease of her elbow.
“He’s on a lot of pain meds right now,” she reassures me, holding him tenderly. “He’s kind of out of it.”
I end up picking him up from her arms and carrying him into the house. Laying him down on the bed I had prepared for him, I place a blanket over his back end and allow him to let the pain meds take effect so he can finally get some rest. I watch as his barrel chest rises and falls, wondering what he was thinking as they hung him from his neck and ripped his teeth from his jaw. Repulsion makes my back teeth clench together so tightly my jaw aches. Voices from the kitchen pull my attention as Montana checks on Wheeter and Josiah.
“I’m gonna start calling you Sharp Shootin’ Tex,” Wheeter jokes. “She shot at his feet and made him crip walk across the yard. Saw a bit of it from the kitchen window as we left,” he tells me, before cursing out again as Josiah pours alcohol over his wound.
“Stop moving!” Josiah scolds him. “I gotta make sure it’s clean, since you’re the dumbass who vehemently denies the medical system!”
I recall hearing the shots being fired as we carried Wheeter up from the basement. I’d assumed the worst, thinking Wes was quickly following through with his plans to kill Rocco before we could escape. And to be honest, maybe he would have had she not been out there protecting him. My chest tightens at the thought. What if Wes had hurt her? What if I’d lost her again?
What if I’d lost them all?
Dread swarms, threatening to drown me, so I head back outside, needing some fresh air. Carrying the rolled-up blanket Montana had wrapped Rocco in under my arm, I return it to her new friend.
Maybe I need to dial back my crazy a bit. He’s been nothing but kind, right? No. No, he wants between her fucking legs. They all do. I’m a jealous fuck. I chuck the blanket at him a tad harder than intended.
“Thanks, man,” he says, catching it against his chest, unaware of my internal turmoil. He tosses it in the back of his truck again, near a toolbox and what looks like some car cables, and quickly closes the trunk, turning to face me.
“We haven’t officially met. I’m Alek,” he says, holding out his hand.
I shake it, noticing a faint scar running between his finger and thumb and getting a waft of something that resembles spoiled fruit. Rich people and their fragrances.
“I’m sure you’ve seen me around, or maybe you haven’t, but I’ve been giving Montana rides occasionally. We’re both members of The Montgomery Fine Orchestra. Play cello together…” he trails.
I nod once, wondering why he keeps talking.
“Well, thanks,” I say, turning to get back to them. I take a few steps when he continues.
“She’s a great girl,” he comments, and I close my eyes tightly before facing him again. “Brilliant.”
If he wants some sort of brotherly approval in order to smash, he sure as fuck isn’t going to get it here. By the look of the band on his finger, he’s clearly a married man, presumably rich as shit, looking to save the poor girl from the other side of town by sticking his dick in her before dropping her like a fart in the wind. That, and I’m the only one smashing.
“I know.” I nod amicably, then take another step toward the house.
“I’d hate for Wes to disillusion her with their relationship. Truthfully, I’m happy to hear of its end, as I’m sure you are as well.”
I turn back to face him, eyes questioning, peering at his wedding ring and back.
“She’s far too intelligent for the likes of him.”
“I know that,” I say, feeling defensive. Why he feels the need to fill me in on details I’m already very aware of is beyond me.
“Well, anyway…” He shrugs.
Hopping into his truck, Alek starts it up, waving at me through his window once more before slowly driving off.
I stand there, still as ever, as I watch his car lights fade from my vision, wondering why my conversation with Alek has me so perplexed.