Page 20 of Sugar and Skulls

After a few minutes of walking she cuts behind a tall wooden fence and hops over another shorter chain link fence into a backyard. I jump in right behind her but regret it the minute I do. I come face to face with a dog that looks so mean, so nasty I think I might piss myself.

She kneels beside him to calm his growl. “He’s with me,” she tells the dog. He growls and bares his teeth, showing me who’s boss. She laughs. “Yeah, yeah boy. He looks tough but pft, he just let me walk all over his tattooed ass.” She pats the dog on the head, and he backs away letting me slide past him.

I’m offended. Truly offended. Did she just put me down? I follow her into the house. She heads right for the bathroom.

“Hey, you know I’m only being nice to you cause your hurt right? I am tough. Remember I broke every finger on that punk teenager’s hand for you.”

She sets a towel on the counter, then leans in to crank the shower on. “Yeah, so tough. I had to finish him off.”

“You stuck a fork in his leg that’s hardly finishing him off,” I say leaning against the doorframe watching her.

She stares at me as she lifts her shirt over her head and my heart stops. Christ, she’s definitely not a little girl anymore and holy fuck is Bill going to kill me if he finds out I saw her in a bra. I turn quickly, noting the bruises on her ribs before closing the door behind me.

I can hear her laughing hysterically on the other side. Goddammit this girl is something else.

I’ve got to call Bill. I pull my phone out and make the call.

“She ran away. Where the fuck are you at man?” he growls as soon as the call connects.

“Chill, dude, you’re going to give yourself a fucking heart attack.”

“The doctor is here, and she isn’t. So, yes, I’m having a fucking heart attack,” he grits through the receiver.

“She climbed out the window. Don’t worry, I followed her to a house about twelve blocks from Dan’s. She’s fine. She just wanted a damn shower.”

“Get her ass back here,” he yells.

Dan takes the phone from him. “Dirk, what the fuck, man?”

“Jesus, she just wanted a shower. We’re at some house with a dog that looks like a demon from hell.”

“She’s sneaky, dude. Keep an eye on her and get back here as soon as you can.

“Yeah, yeah.” I hang up and take a look around the place. Doesn’t look like she lives here. No sign of a woman living here at all.

The shower is still running but it’s been twenty minutes. I knock on the door. “Everything okay in there?”

No answer.

“Did you fucking drown or what?”

Still no answer. Fuck. I push open the door. “Jesse?”

When she still doesn’t answer I reluctantly (and I mean reluctantly for the sake of my nuts) push the shower curtain aside.

She is clawing at herself. I reach in to stop her, but the water is scalding hot. “Jesse, fuck, stop!”

I turn the water temp down and step in clothes and all. She falls to the ground and crouches in the corner of the shower still trying to tear at her skin. I kneel down beside her and grip her hands in mine tightly.

“I’m sorry,” she says frantically.

“Sorry for what?”

She looks up at me. “For not protecting what was mine,” she says, so tortured it feels like a lash to my soul.

I pull her to stand by her hair making her eyes go wide. I tug her into my chest. “You did, you protected what was yours,” I tell her.

She shakes her head. “I didn’t. I didn’t.”

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