Page 30 of Misguided
“But you love it,” he says, dropping to the ground again. “Admit it.”
I don’t. Because that would mean admitting I’ve also packed away my standards for a night and let frisky Mel out of the cage she’s been locked away in for the past year and however many months.
All for the chance at a little comfort with somebody who gives me nothing but.
How desperate can I be? I came out here to find peace in nature, and instead I’m marveling the pout of his bottom lip and wondering how that would feel trapped between my teeth.
“So when does the target practice start?” I ask, twisting to face him.
He frowns, the mirth from mere seconds ago gone. “Not sure.”
“You having second thoughts?” I nudge him lightly in the arm, resisting the urge to do it again just so I can feel that hard swell of muscle he’s built while I was away.
Jesus—I’ve reduced myself to one of the bunnies who slips in here on a weekend looking to fulfill a fantasy. Way to honor your family’s memory there, Mel.
“I’ve got to take you home tomorrow.”
Home. My stomach pits. “Already? I thought they had to be sure the cops wouldn’t come around with questions and find me there?”
“They won’t.” He stares across the yard. “Mighty’s taken care of that.”
“That was quick.”
“He’s useful for more than an extra tub of protein, you know,” he teases.
“Will Hooch be there as well?” Surely if I’m in the clear, then Mighty’s pulled some miracle for Hooch too.
Dog shakes his head, looping both arms around his raised knees. “Nope.”
I straighten my back, trying to hide how gutted that single word made me. It would’ve happened sooner rather than later anyway; I need to go home and face the truth for what it is. I need to re-familiarize myself with the place, especially now that it holds two fewer faces.
“We can do the target practice when we get down there, perhaps,” he says softly, mistaking my despondency for missing out on the shooting, not for what returning to Texas means.
“I’m sure you’ve got things to get back to up here.”
He shrugs. “Don’t know. It’s been real quiet lately.”
Yeah, well it probably isn’t now they have to clean up after me and Hooch is on the run. I look toward my future and the vision is so murky, so muddied by everything that’s going down right now. I wish I could see what was in store, plan ahead, and have something to focus on. Yet here I am, sitting on the grass and wondering what I should do first when I get back to Fort Worth.
How the hell do I start piecing my life back together when half the puzzle pieces are missing or broken?
“Crackers know I’m coming?”
“Yeah, he’s expectin’ us both.”
“Good.” Because he’s going to have a lot of questions fired his way, and I can only hope he knows how to answer them.
Because I sure as fuck don’t.