Chapter 3
Viper
Jesus. H. Fucking. Christ.
I jammed my foot onto the brake, the back of the truck immediately swerving from the shitty tires purchased with the heap of junk. With a death grip on the steering wheel, I kept my eyes pinned on the creature standing in the middle of the road. The beast was fucking determined to ruin my damn day.
As if I needed another reason.
With the grace of God, or perhaps from a little devil sitting on my shoulder, I managed to skid to a stop.
Maybe six inches in front of the mangy looking dog.
What I’d seen out of the corner of my eye had appeared like a statue someone had tossed out the window. Now I knew differently, the creature’s tail wagging. I glared out the window, fucking uncertain if I was still breathing.
“What in the hell were you doing? What?” While I doubted the pup could hear me through the closed windows, when he or she lifted their head, and it had to be a girl dog given the obvious attitude, I could tell the beast had heard every word.
He or she peered at me with soulful eyes, one single mournful howl penetrating the closed-off cab of the truck.
Just a split second before he or she collapsed onto the pavement.
“Oh, hell, no.” I threw the gear into park, cursing under my breath before climbing out.
This was the last thing I needed. There was no way I’d hit the poor thing.
None. Even after a couple of years, I was still a decent driver.
Plus, there was nothing on the hilly roads that could easily drag my mind off the awaiting adventure.
If I ever made it to my destination.
As I approached, I reminded myself that injured animals were unpredictable.
Especially if the dog was a female, she would likely bite.
I rolled my eyes, accepting that the thought was a horrible stereotype.
However, since I didn’t have the best of luck with women, I doubted I could with female dogs.
Only I didn’t need to worry about that. As soon as I crouched down, I noticed he was fully intact, his huge balls on display.
That was the only thing about his emaciated body that appeared remotely normal.
I had no idea how the dog could even be alive given how many bones were protruding from his side.
“Oh, you poor baby.” With all my movements slow, I reached out and gently rubbed my hand down his back. Instead of snarling either from agony or fear, he lifted his head, whining while his tail thumped once.
The beautiful black dog with the eyes of an old soul peered up at me, pleading with me to help him. Begging me not to leave him on this desolate road.
With no collar, no sign of human life over the last fifteen miles, and with the way he looked, even if he had an owner, I wasn’t inclined to give him back. “Okay, buddy, I don’t know what I can do here, but I’m not leaving you.”
I could swear the pup understood, his tail thumping not once but three times. At least the simple gesture offered hope.
But the rest of him and the dullness in his eyes didn’t provide any warm fuzzies.
The pup was starving to death and God knew what other illnesses or injuries he was suffering from.
His heavy panting was partially given the heavy humidity on the July day, but the poor pup had to be terrified out of his mind.
After raking my hand through my hair and scanning the area, I made a decision. “Alright, buddy. Just wait right here. I’m going to take you with me. I’ll get you some food. Just stay right here.”
His whimper brought an emotion I hadn’t experienced in a long time.
Sadness and deep concern. For a dog I’d never seen before.
And here I thought my heart had been ripped from my body.
I certainly had no soul. Taking long strides, I headed to the passenger side of the truck, grabbing a blanket I’d brought with me and making a little nest on the front seat.
At least I had some bottled water and I’d fashion a makeshift bowl.
Even though I was obviously in Bumfuck, there had to be a fast-food joint around here somewhere. Yeah, money was tight, but he’d eat before I would.
Thank God, he didn’t struggle when I gathered him in my arms. But the boy needed a bath something fierce. I could see gratitude in his big brown eyes. As I eased him onto the blanket on the seat, he let off a huge sigh. He knew he’d at least be safe.
Maybe there was something decent left inside of me after all.
As I closed the door, I took a few seconds to glance toward the mountains in the background.
Maybe I should call finding the pup in the middle of the road a moment of divine intervention.
I’d had such reservations about heading to Missoula, but maybe this was the fresh start the warden had been talking about.
Everything felt different, and not only because I wasn’t locked behind cold steel bars.
The air was distinctive even with the heavy haze as if a storm had recently rolled through.
Every tree was full of leaves, but there appeared to be some snow on the highest mountain peaks.
Or maybe I was merely hallucinating, a product of one of a half dozen memories appearing out of nowhere.
Memories that were no longer welcome.
Being Friday night, I had the whole weekend to get settled. Yeah, into the cheapest motel I could find, but at least I could begin figuring out what kind of dollars I’d need for an apartment.
No furniture.
Barely any clothes.
A few books.
Ugly memories.
Six boxes from my past my attorney had generously stored for me.
I said that politely since he’d either trashed or had sold for profit a good portion of my life including those very ugly memories that one day I’d wish I had.
What had been tossed into the truck’s small backseat was all I had to my name.
A twenty-nine-year-old has-been in a town I didn’t know.
At least the area was peaceful.
Of course that had to be the moment a truck full of rednecks flew by, honking their horns, slowing down just enough to flick me the bird. Seeing their big tires and gunrack in the back, the next set of memories were from an entirely different past.
Just as the sound of the huge Hemi engine began to disappear, I jumped into the cab, immediately grabbing a bottle of water and turning the air conditioning on high. “Just you and me, buddy. We’re on this adventure together. So, what am I going to call you? Buck?”
He didn’t move a muscle.
“Okay. How about Brutus?” The look he gave me could burn a man at the stake. “Oh, not Brutus.” I rubbed my jaw, thinking about a book I’d read while serving my time. “How about Sailor?”
I’d be damned if he didn’t lift his head.
“Sailor it is, buddy. Alright. Let’s get you some water then homeward bound.”
Home.
As if I’d ever feel like Missoula, Montana was home.
* * *
Didn’t they have a normal goddamn pet store somewhere? What the hell was I talking about? Driving down Main Street reminded me of something you’d see in a sappy girlie movie. I could only imagine what the place would be like blanketed by snow.
Even with my grumpiness, I reminded myself where I’d grown up in Colorado, people had compared the small town to a Hallmark movie.
Matter of fact, I think one had been filmed there.
But still. Ziggy’s Bar. Maggie’s Restaurant.
Harper Hardware. Gideon’s Bar and Grill.
Holden’s Pet Store. Did all the big box stores skip over Montana?
“Be right back, Sailor.” With limited funds, I had to be careful what and how I spent my damn money, but I needed a collar, a leash, dog food.
And damn it, Sailor deserved a few toys and treats.
I had to fatten him up somehow. What he needed was medical attention.
Thank God, I’d found a good deal on the used truck, but at the end, the asshole had upped the price on me.
He was lucky I hadn’t broken his neck.
While Sailor had a burger in his tummy, that wasn’t what he needed.
Nutritious food was required. Even I knew that.
I wiped my hands on my jeans, surprised I was hesitant about entering the store.
Likely because my people skills needed work.
When I was a kid, I’d been the talkative one, driving my teachers crazy.
Maybe it was true what they said about prison life.
Somewhere in my mind, I realized without a doubt the changes had started a few months earlier.
As soon as I walked in, a bell overhead tinkled and I almost ripped it off the door.
“Welcome to Holden’s. I’ll be right with you, honey.” The woman’s voice was melodic, the slight twang exactly like I remembered from where I’d grown up.
“That’s fine,” I managed. See? I could be polite when I put my mind to it.
I grabbed a basket, staring at the festive art high on the walls.
With tall ceilings and almost iridescent lighting, my eyes had immediately been drawn to several photographs of dogs and cats covering the walls near the ceiling.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that a lady with garish pink hair popped her head from behind a counter, noticing what I was looking at.
“Don’t they look real? Like photographs, I mean?
I’m proud to say a local artist does them.
As soon as I saw the very first one, I snapped up every one she had.
I keep telling her she doesn’t charge enough, but she’s not doing them for the money. That’s for sure.”
I offered the store clerk my attention, which she finally noticed.
Instantly, her face turned beet red. My body reacted as it had fifty times since my arrest, since my photo had been all over the news for a full two weeks, tension and even anger spiraling through me.
Maybe she was about to toss me out of her store. Fuck that shit.