Page 33 of Pigeon

“Thank you, Horse. Have a good night,” I tell his retreating back.

“See ya,” Cash mumbles before following Horse to the two bikes parked a short distance away.

Their bikes roar to life, and the two men ride out of the parking lot. Turning back to Pigeon, I realize I’m at a loss for words. It’s been a long, stressful, terrifying day, and I’m emotionally, mentally, and physically spent.

“Let’s go. You need to sleep and heal, and I need to know you’re safe,” Pigeon tells me in a low tone.

When I shake my head in protest, words still not forming, he gently pulls me to his chest and wraps his arms around me. I lean into him and accept his comfort. Wrapping my arms around his narrow waist, I soak up his warmth and win the battle against the tears forming from his kindness. We stand this way for several minutes before he pulls back, takes my hand, and leads me to his bike. After Pigeon takes a seat, I sling my leg over and slide on behind him. Reaching back, he pulls my arms around his stomach and waits until I clasp my hands together. As we’re leaving the rescue, I lay my cheek against his back and enjoy the ride.

Instant panic sets in when I open my eyes and recognize nothing. Bolting upright, I look around the room I’ve been sleeping in and briefly wonder if genetics have set in, and I’ve went over the edge like my mother did so many years ago. It only takes a moment, though, before I realize where I am and how I got here.

After arriving at a home not far from the rescue, Pigeon silently led me through the house and up the stairs to his bedroom. Handing me a t-shirt from a dresser drawer, he pulled my head toward his and laid a sweet, gentle kiss on my forehead. When he reached the doorway, he turned to me and spoke.

“Wear that and get some sleep, Ivy. I’ll be downstairs if you need anything. You’re safe tonight, and we’ll talk tomorrow on how to keep you that way.”

I stood in the room for only a moment before doing exactly as he requested. Slipping into his shirt, I folded my clothes and laid them on a chair. Climbing into his big bed, I snuggled into the sheets that smell like him and fell asleep way quicker than I expected to. Now it’s morning and time to face Pigeon and then Ted. I’m afraid of both encounters but for very different reasons.

Dressed, I let myself out of the room and walk the hallway looking for a bathroom. Finding one, I use the facilities, use the toothpaste and my finger before attempting to tame my curls. Giving up on that endeavor, I leave the bathroom and find my way to the stairs. Following the low voices I hear, I enter the kitchen and stop silently in the doorway.

Horse is sitting at the table with Gunner, Axel, and Cash while Pigeon is leaning against the counter, coffee cup extended my direction. I walk to his side, accept the cup, and mimic his stance. Taking a healthy swallow of the steaming black coffee, I close my eyes in appreciation. There’s nothing better than that first cup of God’s brew, especially after a rough night. Opening my eyes, I watch the men exchanging money.

“Thanks for the payday, Pigeon. I knew I could count on you,” Horse says while counting the bills in his hand.

“Yeah, thanks,” Axel adds while doing the same as Horse.

“You both suck,” grumbles Gunner as he puts his wallet in his hip pocket.

“Agreed,” says Cash as he follows Gunner’s example.

“It’s your own damn fault, you sore losers. I told you I saw a look,” Axel gloats.

“What’s going on?” I mutter to Pigeon.

“You sleep okay?” Pigeon asks from my side while ignoring my question.

“Yes, thank you.”

“You took on two guys, possibly armed, with nothing but a half-wild dog and a phone. Have you lost your fucking mind?” Axel asks in a calm, conversational tone.

“They were going to steal the puppies,” I answer in the same tone, though I’m somewhat bewildered as to why he’s questioning what I see as an obvious action.

At the time, no other action came to mind. Now, in the light of day, it might not have been my smartest decision. Would I make the same decision if faced with the same set of circumstances? Yeah, I probably would. If that makes me certifiable, then so be it. I’ve been called worse, and at the end of the day, I have to live with myself and my decisions.

“Only my crazy-ass sister, and maybe Craig, will understand why you did what you did. Even so, mad respect, Ivy. More guts than brains, you’re going to fit in like you were raised a Devil’s Angel,” Axel states while the other men chuckle.

Tilting my head slightly, I ask, “What would you have done?”

“He’d have done the same as you, but don’t take that as a compliment. No one has ever accused Axel of being sane,” answers Gunner before asking his own question. “The men never got close enough to hurt you, and yet someone has. Who?”

Knowing the time has come, I have to make some decisions about my life. Shuffling my feet, uncomfortable being the center of attention, I hesitate. Glancing up to Pigeon’s kind eyes, I open my mouth and tell my truths.

“My brother. Since Nana and Papa died, he’s gotten worse. He was always mean, a bully, but his drinking and control over the ranch and me have made him worse. Our grandparents didn’t see this side of him until Nana was sick, and it was too late to change anything. Their will grants him a large sum of money, so he could afford to start a new life, but the ranch goes to me on my 25thbirthday. If they died while I was still a minor, it stated that Ted would have control over the ranch, drawing a healthy wage, until I either married or turned 25 years old. Nana passed two weeks before my 18thbirthday, putting that condition into effect. If I give up and leave, the ranch would still be mine, but there wouldn’t be anything left to receive. Ted’s drinking and bad business decisions would ruin my future plans for the ranch. Also, Ted wouldn’t use the ranch income to take care of Mom, and I can’t afford the residential care facility on my own if I have to pay rent somewhere.”

Silence reigns in the room for a minute before Gunner breaks it.

“Do you have a copy of the will? We have a club attorney that I’d like to take a look at it and see if there’s any wiggle room in it.”

“Yeah, I can get it to you. This isn’t your problem, but I appreciate the help. I don’t think I can do this for another couple of years,” I admit quietly.

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