Page 42 of Another Round
My head swivels back and forth. Unable to see a damn thing in the stormy darkness. I call her name again and hear nothing. See nothing. Find nothing.
I race all the way to the river front. Unsure if my Nikes touch the ground or my heart beats in my chest. I scream and scream for her, for him, for them, until my voice cracks. Raw and burning. I cough and I run. Back past our place. All the windows remain dark. Reflecting the emptiness raging inside me without them.
My feet slip and slide inside my sneakers. Squishy and flooded from the puddles growing on the sidewalk. I skid to a stop in front of the bakery that has the red velvet cupcakes she loves and the oatmeal pumpkin bone-shaped treats he loves when a muffled cry floats toward me on the breeze.
Fuck! Not a cry but a howl.
Gus.
I follow the echo of his pitiful wailing reverberating down the narrow alley between the bookstore and design studio. His soaked tail thumps against the concrete as I approach, and he whimpers in anticipation as I get closer, nosing at a row of black garbage bags half hidden in the shadows. I don’t give a fuck about what he’s found digging through the rubbish until I get closer and fire explodes through my body despite the freezing downpour.
Evie.
With some motherfucker kneeling over her.
Only a surprised yelp sounds from the bastard when I jerk him to his feet by his filthy, drenched sweatshirt and snap his neck before tossing his body forward into the trash where he belongs. Tamping down my craving to slowly and painfully torture him with the need to get to her.
Gus stands guard over the woman we both love. She looks like an angel sprawled on the concrete between the uneven piles. The handle of his blue leash lays inches from her palm as if she held onto him until she couldn’t hold him anymore. Blood circles the back of her head like a halo and I can’t tell in the dim light if she’s breathing. If her chest raises up and down like it should. If her heart beats as frantic as mine.
With shaking hands, I brush the damp strands from her face and her eyelids flutter. Thank all the holy angels above. I cup her pale cheeks more gently then I think I’m capable of with her broken and suffering. “Evie?”
Emotion and abuse strain my voice, but she seems to hear me. She swallows and lifts her chin slightly, struggling to speak.
“Help Gus. He hurt Gus.”
He hurtyou. She’s got to be fucking kidding me. Worried about that damn dog while she’s laid out on the god damn fucking ground. I can’t focus on him right now. “What happened?”
“I-I told him I didn’t have any money, but he wouldn’t let me go. Gus kept jumping on him and…he kept k-kicking him.”
Motherfucker. I glance over at our dog, cowered down with his wide brown eyes glancing from her to me to her again. “Good boy. Good boy!”
He barks from my approval to the accompaniment of the rising scream of sirens in the distance. Almost as if he senses the relief in my taut muscles from help on its way, he lays his head back on his paws. I turn back to her, cradled in my hands. “Does anything hurt?”
“J-just my h-head.”
Her slight body shivers, and I’d give everything I own to have a blanket or coat to cover her. I curl her to me, trying not to jostle her too much, while giving her the little heat I can offer. “Just a few more minutes, and I’ll be able to get you out of here where it’s warm and dry.”
Adrenaline races through me, making me almost fucking superhuman. That’s the only way I can possibly crouch down and pull Gus to us. Lifting him awkwardly but somehow getting him settled on her lap. Making me flinch and feel like a bastard when he groans in pain from the rough movements. But he’s safe. They’re both fucking safe now and that’s all that fucking matters.
I carry them the hundred feet back to Main Street. Following the blue and red flashing lights reflecting on the empty businesses with a few people stepping out onto their balconies from the apartments above. Yet absolutely zero guilt for disturbing anyone because all I care about is getting her to the medic climbing out of the ambulance. Flanked by two officers, hands on their service pieces probably hoping for a false alarm yet ready for the unexpected. Which is definitely me carrying a half-conscious woman and a hero dog out of the darkness shrouded in the bright lights of their headlamps.
Ipush out of my chair the second he says I’m free to go. I want to murder him too for keeping me from Evie for so damn long. But a dead man, killed by my own hands, warrants a long conversation. At least in their eyes. Repeating what happened over and over to make sure I’m consistent with the details and match what she told them. At least what she can remember with the minor concussion she’s suffered.
Bastard deserved so much worse than the easy death he received, and they know it too for attacking a pregnant woman and goofy but fucking brave dog. I did what I had to do and so do they. So despite my ire I keep my mouth shut as I stride out of the make-shift interrogation room only to be stopped by the original officer who helped me after I found them.
He hands me a yellow post-it note with scribbled handwriting. “Here’s the emergency vet clinic we took your dog to. They’re doing everything they can for him.”
Appreciative of his concern and assistance, I shake his hand. Although we have opposing viewpoints of what we consider justice, I’m still grateful for his help regarding Gus. “Thank you.”
He gives a brief nod before turning away. Already on to his next call if his squawking radio is any indication. “Hope it works out for all of you.”
Me too. I race back to her room and shove open the door. My gut churns from how fragile she looks lying against the beige sheets. Swallowed in the gown they gave her and so broken with matted hair and ashen cheeks. Silent as the doctor talks to her.
“Everything seems good Miss DeMarco. I don’t—”
Her gaze meets mine when I step inside. Terror flooding her expression, and she lifts up from the mattress reaching for me. “How’s Gus? Is he okay?”
Jesus. I clutch her shivering body to me. Attempting to warm her up and calm her down. “No news yet.”
