Page 47 of Taming Bull

“When I was little, my grade school used to host reading challenges. I was pretty competitive, so I borrowed one of the approved books from the library and got in on the challenge. My parents had just split up, leaving me with my grandma, and I was… struggling with reality. Books became my escape from the bullshit.”

She nodded. “I get that. When my first marriage started falling apart, it was easier to lose myself in the love stories of others than it was to deal with the fact my ex was a manipulative, cheating douche canoe who wouldn’t know love if someone rammed it into his mangina.”

“Mangina?” I asked, unfamiliar with the term.

Julia shrugged. “What can I say? Some men are just pussies.”

I belted out a laugh. No wonder Havoc had fallen for Julia. She knew the best words and had an amazing sense of humor. We went to work and between the constant caffeine, the delicious gyros and sugary baklava Julia had delivered for lunch, Marcus’s sweet snuggles, and Julia’s ridiculous stories about her crazy-ass family, I made it through the day. By the time Havoc arrived to relieve me, I was so far beyond exhausted I could barely feel my feet, but my cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

It had been my pleasure to help Julia and I didn’t expect compensation, but when Havoc slapped a fifty into my hand, his hard-ass look didn’t leave any room for argument. “You gave me peace of mind so I could work,” he said. “Trust me, that’s worth more than this fifty. You need a ride home?”

His arms were full of baby. He had bags under his eyes and looked like his first day back to work had taken five years off his life. He needed to be here with his wife and son.

“Nah. Thanks, but I got it.”

He was far too stoic to sigh in relief, but I could tell he wanted to. “Next Sunday?” he asked.

“Of course. I had a blast.” I kissed Marcus’s forehead, gave Julia a hug goodbye, and took off.

Body feeling like Jell-O, with fifty unexpected dollars in my pocket and the threat of being late hanging over my head, I opted out of jogging and hopped a bus home. My bed called to me with promises of soft, comfy sleep, but I didn’t have time to answer. I’d made a promise of my own. Leashing Brahma, I led him the few blocks to the park. By the time we arrived, I was regretting every single commitment on my time I’d ever made, but the way Johnny’s face lit up when he saw Brahma made my sore feet and tired legs worth every overbooked, worn-out minute of my life. Physically, I was running on fumes, but emotionally, my tank couldn’t have been fuller. Especially when Shelly wiped away a tear and thanked me again for meeting up with them.

The park bench called to me, and I stretched out across it, my eyelids so heavy I could barely keep them open. Shelly looked at me like I’d lost my mind, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her that sleeping on park benches was nothing new for me. That kind of talk made people uncomfortable, but when I was homeless, I’d learned to sleep where I could.

There was no shame in grabbing a few winks on a bench.

To make her more at ease, I stood to keep myself from nodding off.

Johnny and Brahma played ball for a little over an hour, until my dog was almost as tuckered out as I was. The last time Johnny threw him the ball, Brahma glanced at it, and collapsed in the grass, refusing to fetch. I’d never felt so spiritually connected to an animal in my life. I held up my fist in solidarity and imagined him doing the same. Shelly and Johnny took off, and I coaxed Brahma to his feet with promises of treats and a nap. The walk from the park to the shelter took forever. When we finally dragged our asses over the threshold, Brahma went straight for his water bowl, and I collapsed face down on the floor of the living room, hoping I’d never have to move again.

No such luck. Moments later, footsteps preceded the feel of something soft hitting my back. It rolled down my side, across the floor, and under the couch. Plastic poop bags. Great.

“He shit in the back yard while you were with Julia. It’s to the left of the porch,” Monica told me.

Of course he did. I glared at the guilty pooper—who was curled up on his doggie bed—but he looked away. It took everything in me to push myself up off the floor and retrieve the poop bags, but I did it.

“And don’t think you’re getting out of telling me what happened between you and Bull last night,” Monica added as I headed for the back door.

By the time I cleaned up Brahma’s mess and fed him, Bull was off work. He called me, sounding every bit as exhausted as I felt. Since I had to be up early in the morning to start my apprenticeship, we both decided to call it a night early. I missed him, but I needed sleep. I ate, dodged Monica’s questions about my relationship with Bull, and then took Brahma out again before we went upstairs and passed out.

* * *

“I’ve never been in an adult relationship before. It’s weird,” I told Monica. We were sitting at the kitchen table, it was Wednesday, and the first few days of my apprenticeship had passed in a blur of introductions, paperwork, and policies and procedures manuals. It felt a lot like being back in school. The newness was wearing off, and my time and attention were focusing back on Bull. I hadn’t seen him since Saturday night—well, early Sunday morning—and I missed him. A lot. Between my early mornings and his swing-shifts, our work schedule was out of whack, and we hadn’t been able to connect in person. We texted and talked on the phone every day, but it wasn’t the same.

Monica arched an eyebrow at me. “Never? When was your last relationship?”

“High school. It was so different. We saw each other every day at school and hung out on the weekends, no real responsibilities keeping us apart. You know?”

“Ah. High school. To be honest, I don’t even remember it.”

I didn’t buy that for a minute. “You’re not that old.”

“Oh, I know. But I took a lot of advanced classes and volunteered at a hangar. I was busy workin’ on my future and didn’t really buy in to the high school experience.”

I did. High school was fun for me. Classes, dances, spirit week, football and basketball games, I’d enjoyed being part of it all. I didn’t have much, but I had Grandma. We had a warm, safe home, and the cupboards were never bare. Looking back, I realized I’d taken that all for granted until Grandma passed away. Shortly after, the bank foreclosed on the house and reality smacked me right upside the head.

Barely eighteen, fresh out of high school, mourning Grandma’s death, with less than a thousand dollars to my name saved up from babysitting and my after-school waitressing job, I didn’t have many options. I could have probably stayed and rented a room from a friend’s parents, but my dad’s greedy ass had come sniffing around for a life insurance policy, certain he was entitled to more, but Grandma didn’t have anything to leave behind. He’d taken everything she had already.

With Grandma gone, there was nothing left for me in Georgia. Needing to get out of there, I hopped a bus and rode it until the end of the line. Seattle was home now.

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