Page 18 of Devil's Due

Her hands clutch at my cut as she avails herself of human kindness. Her sobs that she was trying to hold back come forth. I rub my hands up and down her back.

“Let it out, babe. Let it all out. I’m here, Stevie. I’m here. You cry babe, you need it.”

Loosening her fingers, she’s now gently beating at my chest. I don’t think she’s got a clue what she’s doing. “Why, Beef, why? Why did Max get hurt? Why did that car run us down? What was it doing on the sidewalk? Why Beef? Why?”

Well fuck me. I’d been so tied up in dealing with the aftermath, I hadn’t given thewhymuch thought. An accident or lack of concentration was what I’d put it down to, but I’m a biker used to a criminal world. Now she’s got me wondering whether there could be more to it.

“I don’t know, Stevie. But I do know Max is a fuckin’ brave dog who saved your life.”

“I don’t know what I’ll do without him.” Her tears might have started to dry, but her voice still breaks at the thought.

“You’ll have him back. He’ll be fine, Stevie.”

“You don’t know that. You told me yourself.”

“Look, why don’t we sit down? I’ll call James—he’s the vet. Get a progress update, how about that?” Anything to give her some hope. And if the dog’s taken a turn for the worse, at least I’ll be here to help her deal with it.

“At this time of night?”

Somehow I think James will have been true to his word, and will be keeping a close watch on his canine patient. “I’ll give it a try, okay?”

Another sob, this one less violent, and she takes out a tissue blowing her nose noisily. Her hands touch my chest again. “I’ve made your cut wet.”

“Not a thing for you to worry about. Where are we going to sit?” I fumble for a light switch and when I find it by the side of the door, flick it on. She might be able to find her way around in the darkness, but I’ll break my neck.

She lets me go, then points to a sofa. She makes her way unwaveringly to it, avoiding the low coffee table in her path. Before she sits, she turns back. “One rule in this house, Beef. Don’t move anything. No furniture, not even the waste basket. Leave everything in its place, okay?”

She’s clearly used to issuing that instruction. The reason why is obvious. I nod my head. Then realising the futility of the gesture, give her words instead, “Got it.”

She sits at one end of the three-seater sofa, leaving the other two seats for my bulk. It dips as I place my ass on it. True to my word and mentally crossing my fingers, I waste no time in calling the vet.

“You got James.”

“How’s Max?” I ask without even an introduction. I doubt he’s caring for more than one animal of that name.

“Resting comfortably. Have you seen the owner?” James is equally brief.

“Yeah, I’m with her now.”

“She alright?”

Stevie’s making gimme gestures, and I guess she wants to hear the update herself. I pass the phone over, carefully wrapping her fingers around it.

“James, sorry, I don’t know… Ransom. Got it. Yes, I’m fine. Not much more than a headache. How’s Max?”

I’m only able to hear her side of the conversation which consists mainly of,uh huhsandokayandyeah, I got that. I take the opportunity to watch her face. She bites her lip, grimaces, frowns, then there’s a small smile. Then her brow creases again.

“What time are you open?” she says at last. Followed by, “I’ll be there. Thank you. And yes, I’ll be prepared.”

When she holds the phone out to me I take it, watching as she leans her head into her hands.

“Well?”

“He used a lot of medical jargon, but at the end of it you were right. Good news is that so far he hasn’t deteriorated. I’m going to go in at eight tomorrow and see him.”

The words, “I’ll take you,” immediately come out of my mouth.

Her head comes up, and she stares at a point just over my shoulder. “You don’t need to do that.”

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