Page 34 of Enraged

We lay there in silence.

“I’m gonna try to go into town and grab some groceries,” he announced. “The roads are likely already too shitty to drive back to Creek’s Edge – not that we wanted to anyways – but my truck can probably make it to town.”

“Can I go?” I asked quietly.

He nodded. “We need to grab your bag so you can get something warm to wear that doesn’t swallow you, though. I’ll go get it.”

I smiled. “Thanks, pal.”

I watched as he climbed out of bed. He was doing his best to conceal the fact that every part of him knew that it was morning.

Giggling, I shook my head.

Pain radiated from one temple to the other.

That would be a direct consequence of Jack Daniels and a jackass.

I dragged myself out of bed, already dreading going downstairs where the temperature would definitely be much cooler. Our fire, even now at barely a smolder, had kept the room at somewhat of a comfortable temperature throughout the night.

It wasn’t the fire. It was the 6’4” firefighter that’s built sturdier than a brick shithouse.

I made my way downstairs, the frigid air slicing right through my borrowed, threadbare t-shirt. No sooner than I hit the bottom step, Dakota walked in the front door.

“It’s fuckin’ freezing and I had to walk over the river, through the woods, and clean past Grandmama’s house to get to your damn car!”

I laughed so hard I snorted.

“I’m glad it’s funny. Get dressed.” He sat my bag down.

Rolling my eyes, I picked it up. “Cool your nuts. I’m goin’.”

“My nuts froze and fell off somewhere between the front porch and where you parked your car in bum fuck Egypt.”

Giggling, I closed the bathroom door.

Please tell me I packed something warm.

Technically, this was supposed to be my honeymoon, and I had planned on being naked for most of it. Thankfully, I had packed my thick sweatpants and my favorite Georgia Bulldogs hoodie. After dressing in record time, I glanced at myself in the mirror to survey the damage.

You actually don’t look half bad, girlfriend. You’d never know that your life fell the fuck apart yesterday.

Opening the bathroom door, I hollered his name.

He stepped out from behind the wall. “I’m right here. Why are you carryin’ on with all that hollerin’?”

“Because I can,” I grinned. “Let’s go.”

Dakota

The drive into town was easier than I expected.

Maybe the storm side swiped us.

I turned in the parking lot of Mr. Paul’s General Store, my truck bouncing over a pothole in the old gravel.

“Jeez!” Lena exclaimed, dramatically grabbing the Oh Shit Handle.

I rolled my eyes. “Damn, you almost overreacted to something.”

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