Chapter Eight
In Which There’s a Whole Lot of Shit to Deal With
A s promised, Zander is there at the stage for every single dance I do that night, his eyes glued to the men nearby, waiting for one of them to make the wrong move.
He follows me around between dances as I walk around and talk to some of my regulars. He laughs and jokes with me and anyone around me more than normal. I’m sure he’s trying to cheer me up, but it feels impossible to be anything but depressed.
The rest of the weekend drags on.
It doesn’t help my mood that I have to drive by Marcus’s several times a day. His truck is always there, and the lights on the second floor seem to be on no matter how late I get home at night.
I don’t tell any of the other girls about my meeting with the Alphas, but by Saturday night, word has spread around the club that my hours have been cut because of the incident on Wednesday night. I’ve worked a few clubs before the Wild Hare and most places other dancers can be pretty competitive, but there’s something about working for a pack that makes it feel more like family.
I come in on Saturday night to find that the other girls have harassed the DJ until he’s switched out each of their names on the rotation with mine at least once. It’s an enormous sacrifice. Saturdays are usually one of the biggest money making nights at the Wild Hare, and I’m getting in almost an extra hour of stage time.
It doesn’t make up for all of my lost income, but it helps a ton, though I’m more exhausted at the end of the night than I’ve ever been before. I go home and pass out on my bed immediately, thankful that Randy requires us to leave in street clothes.
Sunday afternoon sunlight is shining through the blinds when I finally wake from what feels like the dead. For a moment, I’m completely lost. I have no concept of when or where I am.
I’m just about to drift back off to sleep when there’s a tap-tap , like a small polite knock, at my bedroom window.
I close my eyes against the brightness, trying to remember my name when it happens again.
Tap-Tap
The window is on the opposite side of the room from my bed. I’ll have to get up from the bed and actually walk to see what’s there. The back yard isn’t really a yard at all but an open field that butts up against a tall hill. Any number of deer, geese, ducks, random farm animals on the loose, and even Darla’s pig friends could be back there. My brain is fuzzy and getting up feels incredibly unimportant, so I roll over and pull the blanket back over my head.
Tap-Tap
Tap-Tap Tap-Tap
Tap-Tap Tap-Tap Tap-Tap
The taps grow more and more insistent.
“Ugh, fine.” I say aloud. I roll out of bed, careful of my still sore ass and head to the window.
“Shania, I swear to God, if you’ve locked yourself out again, I’m going to–” the words stop on my tongue as I pull open the blinds and find myself staring at a donkey. Not just any donkey–Willow.
I mess with the janky lock until it opens and pull up the window. “Willow, you need to go home.” She looks at me for a long moment as if she’s really considering my words, and then shoves her snout in my hand, pushing hard until I give in and start scratching behind her ears.
There’s a high pitched bark and the bray of several donkeys just out of eyesight.
“Seriously?” I say aloud to no one.
Still blinking the sleep out of my eyes, I consider my options. I could call Marcus to come get Willow and whoever else is out on the lawn, but that would mean talking to him. Not something half-awake me is up for at the moment. Plus, the yard is super uneven near this part of the house and it seems like an asshole thing to ask a man with a prosthetic to cross that area just to come do something I can do myself.
I take my hand away from Willow’s head, and she brays in protest. “You need to go home,” I tell her again, only to have her turn her back to me and begin nosing the ground.
“Asshole,” I tell her, then shut and lock the window and find some slip-on shoes.
“Ella! Shania!” I call as I walk down the hall, tying my hair up into a messy bun and rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. The house is silent. A note on the fridge says,
Went to the city. I’ll bring you a snack.
It’s signed Ella, but I imagine Shania went, too. Shania is not one to stay home when adventure awaits. I head to the rarely used back door and fight with it until it opens, only to find Willow already standing there.
“Are you stalking me?”
She brays and tries to push past me into the kitchen. “No, shoo, go home, go back to your dad.” She looks annoyed as I use my body to block the door. “Go home, Willow.”
She brays again and I shake my head, not sure what to do. Pushing her seems mean and wrong, but I cannot have a pooping machine in the house. I turn until my shoulder is the only thing sticking out the door and push her face with my side until I can get the door shut without catching her nose.
I go to the living room and look out the windows there. Sure enough all of Marcus’s donkeys, along with Freddie K are out on the front lawn. Two of the donkeys have discovered the shrubs and are munching away while Freddie K. is running circles around them, barking and trying to herd them without much luck. I can’t say I blame them. I’m not sure I’d let myself be herded by an ancient pomeranian either.
I don’t have a rope or anything I can use to lead them back. Maybe I can lure them with food? I rummage through the fridge for something remotely suitable. More Korean food, feta, a box of wine, sparkling water, soda. We haven’t gone shopping for the week and there’s nothing in there remotely suitable for donkeys. I go through every single drawer, including the neglected vegetable drawer and hit the jackpot–a huge bag of baby carrots. I grab it and head for the front door.
There is no way in hell I’m going to feed these donkeys from my hand. The thought of their giant teeth near my fingers ready to chomp away sends a shudder down my spine, so I drop a few carrots on the grass to get their attention. Freddie K runs around us in circles but has stopped barking. He sniffs a carrot, but doesn’t bite it. Instead he comes to stand by my side.
Willow is the first one brave enough to try it. She wanders over, sniffs it, picks it up, chews on it for a second, then swallows. Her brown eyes seem to ask me for more.
“It’s right here. You can have the rest if you follow me home.” I tell her and wave the bag. Unlike the horses I’ve known, she doesn’t move. Instead, she just stares at me, her tail swishing slightly back and forth. I sigh and move closer, holding a carrot out in the air until it’s close to her nose. “Come on, Willow, let’s go.”
Slowly, she starts to follow, and thankfully, the other donkeys do too, but I find myself waving the carrots in the air a few times to keep them moving because they get distracted by every single thing between our house and Marcus’s.
As if that isn’t bad enough, the burs in the grass are deep in this part of the yard. They attach to the sides and bottoms of my shoe, poking through the holes on the tops and the sides. I try to ignore it. I’m getting these donkeys back to Marcus’s without his help, without him even noticing, if I can help it.
We clomp through the overgrown grass and trees at the slowest pace imaginable. Sloths could have circled the Earth twice by the time we make it across the acre of land between our house and the fire station.
It feels like we’ll never get there when the fence appears and I can finally see the back of the firehouse. It’s a replica of the front side of the building, with the door to the living quarters closest to me and the bay doors furthest from me. Everything is closed except a regular sized door off to the far side of the bay doors. It stands open, slightly ajar.
“That’s how you escaped, huh?” I ask Willow. She just brays at me and tries to reach for the bag of carrots.
I move my hand just in time and shake my head. “Get your fuzzy butt home and then you can have your snack.” She stops and brays at me and I sigh. “Can we just keep going?”
The donkeys trudge reluctantly behind me. There’s no sign of life, no movement from any of the windows. Everything is looking good. We move across the lawn–the donkeys plodding, Freddie K half running to keep up, me taking the smallest, slowest steps possible toward the open door. We are so close I can already smell the manure. She brays again, so loud, I nearly jump.
“Willow, for the love of God, can you keep it down?” I whisper-yell at her. Freddie K. lets out what turns out to be a warning yip as I turn back in time to find the largest horse I’ve ever seen coming from the opening in the fence towards us at full speed. The bag of carrots falls from my hand as I dodge around Willow, who seems completely undisturbed by the giant horse. With my hands on Willow’s back, I use her as an equine shield as the horse skids to a stop and neighs at Willow or me, or maybe both of us. Willow is completely undisturbed by everything going on. Calmly, she reaches out for a carrot and begins to munch on it. The other donkeys come around us, gathering in to get their share of the treats.
“I’m just trying to get them home,” I tell the horse, not sure if she’s acting as a guard or just being nosy. The horse dodges around Willow and I take a step back to put distance between us, only to lose my balance and fall into what is unmistakably a pile of shit. How I hadn’t noticed it before, I’m not sure.
Freddie K. begins to yip loudly, pouncing on his paws in a way I can’t fathom given his age. Now that I’m on the ground again, the ache from Wednesday is back. Pain radiates from my tailbone up to my lower back.
I’d totally get up and run, ass pain and all, only I’m surrounded by shit. There’s nowhere to put my hands down. Ramona immediately comes over to inspect me, leaning down close and putting her nose in my face. Freddie K., bless him, shoves bravely in between us, barking at Ramona in my defense.
I hold my breath, terrified, smelly, and just generally hating life and everything that has brought me to this moment. I close my eyes and sigh. This week just keeps getting better and better.
“Ramona, get away from her,” I hear Marcus call.
I cannot catch a break. He makes a clicking noise with his tongue and the horse calms down a bit, moving back from me so Marcus can come and stand over me. His lips are a straight line. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s trying desperately not to laugh. Carefully, he leans down and picks up Freddie K., who’s calm now that Marcus has appeared.
“Sarah, do you need some help?”
I close my eyes and sigh. “Yes.”
In one smooth motion, he grasps my hand and pulls me to standing. He sucks in his lips and looks away. He’s definitely trying not to laugh. “How did–you know what, never mind. Why don’t we get you cleaned up and—”
“I can just go home and shower.” I say, backing away.
He turns back to me and raises an eyebrow. “You could, but you’d track shit throughout the house and then you’ll be cleaning the shower for weeks to get the smell out. The fire station has an old locker room with wide drains. It will be easier to clean up after you’ve showered.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, doubtful.
“Ramona got you into this mess. The least I can do is get you out of it.”
To his credit, he utters not a peep the entire way back to the station, past the makeshift pen and to the far side of the bays. My shoes leave dark brown footprints across the concrete floor and I seriously want to gag at the smell, but I keep it to myself. He opens a door and leads me into a locker room, dragging a trash can behind him.
“Give me a minute and I’ll find you something to change into.”
He disappears, leaving me standing alone in the old locker room. It still has that faint locker room smell, mixed with floor cleaner. When he reappears, Marcus has a bottle of shampoo and body wash. “Sorry, they smell kinda manly,” he apologizes and I manage to huff a laugh.
“It’s better than I smell now.”
He drops a clean towel, a comb, and sweats onto the benches and then steps into the showers to turn on the shower for me. “I don’t think we can save your clothes, so you can just dump them in the trash. If you give me your shoes, I’ll try to hose them off for you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“It’s that or let me fireman carry you home.”
At that, I can’t help but snort. “You have fireman carried me before. Remember when I was twelve? There was some organization day at the unit. You and Lugh threw me and David over your shoulders and raced for something?”
He laughs. “I haven’t thought about that in a long time.”
“Well, I weigh a lot more now, so I’ll take you up on washing my shoes. I don’t want to hurt your back.”
“Hey now, I’m not that old. I just turned forty last year.”
“We’re all old now, Marcus. I’ll be thirty in a few years. Everything has changed.”
His eyes meet mine. I smell horrid and have crap all over me, but even in that moment, the look he gives me sends shivers down my spine. “Things have changed,” is all he says.
I don’t know what to do with that look, how to respond. If I wasn’t standing here covered in crap, would I be brave enough to make a move? Maybe? Maybe not?
He shakes his head and looks away first. “I’ll let you get to your shower. Come find me when you’re done. I’ll be upstairs.”
He leaves me alone in the showers to think. I dump the clothes in the trash can and walk as direct a path as I can to the showers. The water pressure here is far better than it is at the house. I take as hot a shower as I can, for as long as I can, until I decide I’m probably being rude and change into the sweats Marcus left for me.
They’re a little too big and way too long, but I roll the waistband down a few times to make it more snug against my belly before sidestepping the poopy footprints I left behind. When I finally step out of the locker room, the footprints in the bay are gone, and the donkeys are back in the pen. Freddie K. is sitting outside the door, waiting for me. His tail starts to wag and I get the distinct feeling he’s hungry.
“Are you hungry?” I ask Freddie K. Almost immediately, I get the mental image of a food bowl. Fire magic and dog telepathy? I guess there could be worse things. I pick him up and smooth down his fur. “Thanks for having my back out there,” I whisper to him.
Willow comes to the edge of the pen and brays in my direction. I stick my tongue out at her and head upstairs.
Marcus is sitting at the little table this time, drinking a cup of coffee and scrolling on a tablet. He smiles when he sees me. “Coffee?”
“Sure, but first, can you tell me where the dog food is? Freddie K. is hungry.”
He chuckles. “Freddie K. is always hungry.”
“Yeah, but this time he told me.”
Marcus tilts his head. “He told you? Like he speaks to you?” The look on Marcus’s face is priceless.
I laugh and shake my head. “No, not exactly. I asked him if he was hungry and I immediately got an image in my mind of a food bowl. I guess it’s a witch thing?”
“Well, see, that’s the problem. You don’t go asking Freddie K. if he’s hungry. The answer’s always going to be yes.” He pushes up from his chair.
“You don’t have to get up for me. I can get it, if you point me in the right direction.”
“I don’t mind.” He gets up and pours me a cup of coffee, then pushes a bottle of creamer and glass jar with sugar in it towards me. I sit carefully down next to him, trying not to wince as my weight rests on my backside.
“Can I ask you a question?” I say as I stir a little bit too much sugar in my coffee.
He moves slowly across the room to Freddie K.’s food bowl, then rests a hand on the wall to balance as he leans down. “Only if I get to ask one, too.”
I smile. “Sure. I hope this isn’t rude, but aren’t the stairs hard on your leg?”
He fills Freddie K.’s bowl, then moves back over to the table, taking the chair next to mine. “They are, but I took your advice. Jacqueline got me in touch with a guy named Geir over at the mine. He’s going to come over and see if there’s a way to maybe turn part of the bay into a living space and maybe section this off into an apartment I could rent out for extra income.”
“That’s smart.”
“Now my turn.”
“Okay, Mr. Serious.”
“What do you plan to do after stripping?”
I sigh. “Have you been talking to Lugh about me?”
He smiles. “Maybe a little.”
“Can you tell him not to worry so much? It wasn’t too long ago he was growing flowers that looked like naked men.”
He nearly spits out his coffee. “He was doing what now?”
I laugh. “Next time you talk to him, tell him I said this works both ways.”
He shakes his head and smiles. “You know, he’s just looking out for you.”
I sigh. “Yes, but I’m a big kid now and he has three, no, four other people to look out for.”
He gets quiet for a minute, his eyes studying me as he takes another sip from his mug. “Is it really okay at the Wild Hare? Do you really feel safe there?”
I nod. “I do. The Lamar pack is really good about security.” I bump his shoulder playfully with my own. “You should come sometime.”
He laughs and looks down at his hands. “I don’t know if I–”
“Surely you’ve been to a strip club before,” I tease.
“I have, it’s just–” He doesn’t finish his sentence, but I can guess.
I just shrug my shoulders. “Your loss. We’re really good.”
He chuckles, “I have no doubt.”
I finish up the cup of coffee and stand from my chair. “Thank you for letting me clean up. I probably should get back.”
“You don’t–” he says, standing up too quickly, and losing his balance. I don’t have the quickest reflexes and he probably has a hundred pounds on me, so I do the only thing I can do and wrap my arms around him, pulling him close to me, hoping it will be enough to fight the pull of gravity. He may have lost part of his leg, but apparently that hasn’t stopped him from working out. He is completely built of muscle. He reaches a hand out for the table and steadies himself as he looks down at me. His eyes meet mine and I suck in a breath at the fire in them. Gently, he brushes the hair back from my face. His face is so close to mine, I could imagine him leaning down and pressing his lips to mine.
Instead, Marcus clears his throat and steps back. “I’m sorry. I was going to say, before I nearly fell on my ass, that you don’t have to go. I’d love for you to stay.”
And I’d love for you to stop fixating on my job , I want to say, but bite my lip. I look down at my hands. “Thank you, but I should get back. It’s my turn to hit the grocery store. Do you need anything while I’m there?”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m good. Thanks for asking. Do you still have time to help out on Tuesday?”
Honestly, I have time to help out the whole week, with my hours cut at the Wild Hare, but I’m not sure I’m ready to see him again so soon.
I nod and try to smile. “Of course. What time do you want me over?”
“Will nine work?”
“Sounds good,” I lie. A now full Freddie K. trots over and demands to be picked up. Rather, I get an image of me holding him in my arms. “Fine, fine,” I say, as I reach down to pick him up.
“Is he talking to you again?” Marcus asks as he follows me down the stairs.
“Yeah, well, he showed me what he wanted.” We walk out through the bay with Freddie K. still in my arms. My slip-ons are sitting by the back door the donkeys escaped from. I step into my shoes and give Freddie K. a scratch behind the ears before setting him back down on the floor.
“Be careful, Sarah.”
I smile grimly, “I will.” I don’t turn back to look, but I definitely get the feeling he stands at the door, watching me walk across the field until I make it home.