Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
SOPHIE
"It seems like Buster needs to go out," I say after Cole told me he had something to take care of and that I should stay here.
"I won’t be gone long. I’m sure he’ll be fine for a little while."
My gaze follows the dog as he walks through the large room with his head down, sticking his snout wherever it fits. "I don’t think so. See how he’s sniffing everywhere?"
Cole narrows his eyes as he pulls on his leather jacket. "Are you a dog expert now?"
Well, I’m not, but I just can’t get rid of the feeling that Buster should go out. Until a few minutes ago, he was lying perfectly still next to me on the sofa, but then he jumped up and has been doing this sniffing thing ever since.
"He’ll have to wait," Cole decides. "As soon as I get back, we’ll take him out."
Since it doesn’t seem right to deny a living being the relief it needs, I decide to take matters into my own hands. "I’m going with him. Now."
Cole curses loudly, then rubs his hands over his face. "You’re not going out there alone with him, dammit."
"But he has to pee!" I snap.
He looks at his watch and groans. "Fuck… Okay. You’re both coming with me. But hurry up."
Ten minutes later, Cole parks in front of a remote warehouse at the edge of the forest. It’s already getting dark, but a bright lamp hangs above the building’s entrance, illuminating the lawn in front of it, where surprisingly many vehicles are parked.
It’s strange. The place looks abandoned, yet a lot of people seem to be here.
Frowning, I scan the area. "What is this place?"
"That’s none of your business," Cole replies curtly. "I have to go in now."
"What about Buster?" I turn to the dog standing on the back seat, looking outside.
"Goddamn…"
Cole is clearly angry, but I don’t know why, and honestly, I couldn’t care less. Buster’s needs come first.
"Here’s the key. Don’t walk away from the truck, and don’t take him off the leash. He can do his business right here. When he’s done, you get back inside and lock the doors." He holds the car key out to me and looks at me urgently.
I take the key and watch Cole getting out of the pickup. "So you want me to wait here?"
"Yes."
"For how long?"
His left hand is on the open driver’s door while he rests his right on the roof of the pickup and looks away briefly before returning my gaze. "Half an hour. Maybe a little more."
"What are you doing in there?"
"It’s none of your business, Sophie. Just wait here."
Because I can tell he’s really starting to get angry and I don’t want to keep Buster waiting any longer, I nod and give in. "Okay. I’ll stay here."
Before I’ve even unbuckled, Cole has already slammed his door and is walking toward the large building.
I take the key and the leash in one hand and then look around.
It’s a little eerie, but I can’t spot a soul, so I turn in my seat and attach the leash to Buster’s collar.
He immediately jumps forward and lands somewhat awkwardly on my lap before hopping out with another leap as soon as I open the passenger door.
Once outside, he merely lifts his leg once, but that’s all that happens. After I walk him around the pickup five times, he just drops to the ground next to the front wheel with a loud sigh, resting his head on his paws.
"That’s it?"
The only answer I get is an innocent look out of his brown eyes.
Since I still want to give Buster the opportunity to relieve himself again, I get back into the pickup but leave the door open and sit sideways on the passenger seat so my legs are dangling in the air.
Unintentionally, my gaze wanders to the large building again. After Cole went inside, nothing moved. Again, I wonder what he’s doing in there and why there are so many cars here.
When it eventually gets too cold, I call for Buster, who immediately jumps up and looks at me expectantly.
I slide off the seat and open the rear door to tap the back seat with my hand.
Buster jumps into the footwell and then onto the seat, only to curl up on it and let out another audible gasp, as if he had the hardest life imaginable.
I close the door and walk to the passenger door, but pause as my gaze slides to the building again.
Indecisively, I stand there, wondering whether I should really dare to do it. Cole will surely get angry, but I’m tired of stumbling around in the dark and constantly being told what to do.
In the end, my curiosity wins.
"You stay here."
Buster lifts his head and looks at me as if to say That’s a bad idea.
I ignore him, shut the door, and lock the truck just like Cole does every time. Then I walk toward the old warehouse while my heart begins to beat faster.
When I reach the entrance, I notice that the gate is only ajar. Cautiously, I stick my head through the crack and look around.
It’s pretty dark, but I quickly realize that this building is similar to the one Cole lives in.
The first floor is open and empty, and at the far end, I spot what looks like a staircase leading down.
Like Cole’s warehouse, this one seems to have a basement.
And like four days ago at his place, light and voices are drifting up from below. Lots of voices. Loud ones. Angry ones.
My legs move on their own.
As I reach the staircase, screams, whistles, and the bawling of several men become clear. Since I still can’t see what’s going on down there, I gather all my courage and take the first steps downstairs.
The moment I can finally get a glimpse at what’s happening in the dimly lit basement, my heart freezes in my chest.
In the middle of the large room, a good three dozen men have gathered.
They all crowd around a circular area, shouting, howling, and cursing.
None of them seem to notice me as they are far too focused on what is happening inside the circle they have formed in their midst, where two men are moving around each other.
One of them wears a light-colored T-shirt on which I can make out several red stains.
The other’s upper body is bare, and although I can only see his muscular, tattooed back, I know immediately that it’s Cole.
Cole, who just lunges with his right arm to hit the other man in the face, so that blood spurts out of his nose.
The two men are fighting.
Is that what he was doing the other night while Jules and I were watching movies, laughing, and just having fun? Beating someone and getting beaten?
I’m paralyzed with shock. Unlike a few moments ago, my legs won’t move anymore. I don’t even know whether I want to run away from the scene or toward it.
Cole and his opponent circle each other once more as the crowd goes wild.
Both men have their fists raised, and their sweat-covered bodies glisten in the dim light coming from the few working lamps on the ceiling.
Suddenly, Cole feints an attack with his left.
His opponent dodges, but Cole rams his right fist into his face again a split second later.
His knuckles are already red, and I wonder if it’s his own blood or that of his rival.
The other man lunges as soon as he has regained his composure and almost lands a hit, causing the bystanders to yell and whistle loudly, but Cole reacts instantly.
He does a half turn, locks his arm around his opponent’s neck, and pummels him as if he were out of his mind.
They stumble and spin until Cole’s face is turned toward me.
He’s bleeding, too—not from his nose, but from a gash on his upper cheek.
His dark hair is damp with sweat and clings to his forehead as he struggles to keep the other man in his grip.
Suddenly, the man rears up, throwing Cole slightly off balance, and then everything happens at once.
Cole’s gaze brushes over me, and he instantly freezes. His rival takes the opportunity to break free, and when I see him lunge, I call out Cole’s name loudly.
He turns around, grabs his opponent by the collar and punches him again before pushing him so hard that the man stumbles backwards and falls.
At the same time, some of the surrounding men turn to me, and shouts rise, but I hardly notice them because my eyes are locked on Cole as he whirls to face me.