Chapter 29
29
DONNIE
After locking up my office, I decide I should go upstairs and find out what Shiloh wants to do for dinner. I forgot to get his number before heading down to close up, so I should probably rectify that while I’m at it. As soon as I lock the door between the shop and the private hallway that leads back to the stairs, I feel a draft coming from somewhere.
As I clear the corner, I see the back door propped open with the two by four with a few boxes sitting inside. I hear the lid slam open on the dumpster and smile at the realization that my new roommate decided to help me haul my trash away. Picking up the closest box, I’m surprised by the weight of it.
Is this one of his?
Setting it back on the floor, I pull open the tape to see nothing but receipts.
SHIT!
I race out the back door to see Shiloh struggling to lift a box over the lip of the dumpster.
“WAIT!” I call out, but not before the box tips over the edge of the metal box and disappears into God only knows what that is inside.
Shiloh shrinks back against the bin and I am mentally kicking myself for yelling at him. I want to comfort him, but first I have to salvage whatever has already gone into the dumpster. Hoisting myself up over the edge, I can see it was only the one box, and I sigh in relief that it landed on some cardboard and not the coffee grounds that I just tossed an hour ago.
“I’m s-s-s-sorry. I was trying to b-b-be help-hel-helpful.”
I drop to the ground and pull the stuttering man into my arms. Eric’s warning about touching Shiloh doesn’t even register in my head until well after I’m holding his trembling form. If he makes a move to want to get away from me, I’ll release him immediately, but at this point, I think it’s better to not make a thing out of it until he does.
“It’s okay,” I whisper while twirling the end of one of his braids. “I wasn’t clear enough on what was trash. It’s not your fault.”
I feel a slight push against my chest, so I step back and release Shiloh from my embrace. I don’t know what I expected to see, but it sure as shit wasn’t surprise and possibly anger.
“You were going to throw away a SIGNED Mario Lemieux jersey?! ”
I’m not sure why his opinion on it affects me more than everyone else who has tried to tell me that hockey isn’t at fault for what happened. But the look on Shiloh’s face at the thought of throwing away that jersey shames me into changing my mind a little bit. It couldn’t hurt at least looking through the boxes.
After grabbing the box of Walt’s terrible record keeping out of the dumpster, the only casualty of my dive seems to be my left shoe and sock. The cardboard was not as thick as I hoped and my foot went through it and into something downright foul. Instead of trying to salvage the shoe, I pulled off the left and went back inside wearing only my right sock on my feet, much to Shiloh’s amusement.
Once we get all of the boxes back upstairs, I pull off the lone sock and toss it in the hamper in the bathroom. Coming out of the bathroom, I notice Shiloh staring at the corner of my little nook off the kitchen. I think Walt intended it to be a dining nook, but I’ve never seen a point in having a designated dining area as a single person. That’s what TV trays are for.
“Whatcha looking at?” I ask him as I grab a Sprite from the fridge. “If you want to use that space for something, feel free. I was going to set up a weight bench or something there for exercise, but I would need to reinforce the floor. I won’t have the funds for that any time soon.”
I think I hear him say something like “kitty nook” under his breath but I can’t be sure. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he follows me onto the couch when I take a seat. I flip through the local stations to see if there’s anything good on the channels I get for free with the antenna before I give up and turn on Netflix.
“What are you in the mood for?” I ask him when he just sits there quietly. “We also need to figure out food. I can cook, but I’d much rather just get something delivered at this point.”
“I’m good,” Shiloh says, barely above a whisper.
Fuck… I screwed up with him earlier.
Me:
How do I get him to talk?
Matt Barnes:
Shy’s well shy
Treat him like you’d treat a stray cat
Me:
?????
He’s a person
I can’t treat him like an animal
Matt Barnes:
Remember how I told you about pet play?
Me:
So you’re saying?
Matt Barnes:
Yes
Shiloh drops into kitten space after big things
Moving is a big thing
Me:
Me yelling at him probably didn’t help
Matt Barnes:
I’ll FUCKING GUT YOU LIKE A SARDINE YOU LIMP DICKED CUMSPOUT!
Eric stole my phone
But I second his sentiment
What the fuck did you do?