Page 11 of Stray

“The fuck you will!” He snaps, batting my hand away. “Rocky and Bear are my boys, and I ain’t having you–”

“Shut up!” I snap back. “You’re not my owner, my husband, or anything else. They need help, and you have a massive gash in your leg, and you’re naked. So again, shut up. I’m going to get them.” I slip my still-soaked shoes back on and open the door, holding on for dear life as the wind tries to rip it out of my hands. The rain is falling in sheets I can barely see through. I hear Jackson yelling something, probably calling for his mom or brothers. I hear one of the dogs crying out again and take off running. The rain is cold and painful as it slams into my body. I cry out as what feels like hail hits my shoulder, but I don’t stop running.

“Rocky!” I yell out, trying to find them. “Bear!” I hear a bark and see Bear running back and forth, his coat soaked. I run up the hill and curse as a chunk of hail hits my head. I reach Bear, and my eyes scan the area before finding out what is with the crying. “Fuck, Rocky!” I run to the frantic dog whose paw is caught in some broken chicken wire.

“Shhh…” I pet the whining pup and cringe at the loud boom of thunder rattling the earth. Bear continues to bark as if telling me we need to go. I grip the wire and pull, but the rain has made it slick, and I lose my grip, causing me to slice my palm on the sharp edge. “Ah! Fffuck!” I cry out, gripping my bleeding hand to my chest. I stare at Bear, who is trying very hard to remain loyal to me and his brother, but obviously wants to run to the house. I look at Rocky; he’s so scared. His paw is completely tangled, and the hail is still pelting us, breaking apart my skin.

No… I’m not leaving him trapped, alone, and hurt. I take my shirt off, leaving me in a black cami, and wrap it around my hand before gripping the wire. Sitting on my ass and placing my feet on the post, and letting out a scream, I use everything I have in me to rip the wire off the post. It’s still wrapped around Rocky’s paw, but at least now I can get him back to the house. I grunt as I lift the large dog into my arms and whistle for Bear to follow. I get to the top of the hill just as Jackson, wearing only his jeans, comes running to me.

“Fuck, Ozzy! Rocky!” He goes to grab the dog, but I stop him.

“Don’t,” I bite out in pain. “My hand is caught in the wire with his paw.” He nods, ushering me and Bear into the house.

“Mama!” He hollers once inside. “Get the cutters!” It takes only a moment for Dorothy to come in on her cane.

“Oh, my word!”

“Get Rocky first,” I pant out. “I can’t see my ha-” A tree falls right in front of the porch, causing us all to jump.

“Your brothers need to get back in here. They went to grab stuff to take to the cellar if we need to go.” Dorothy whispers, and I look at Jackson, who is snipping away at the wire on Rocky’s paw. It only takes three cuts, and he’s free, and Dorothy begins bandaging his paw.

“I told you not to move,” I state as Jackson starts clipping and removing the wire from around my hand.

“You’re not my owner,” he snaps while removing the piece of fence. He unravels my shirt from around my hand, and I hiss. “Sorry Tink,” he says softly.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Dorothy all but cries as she looks me over. “Let me clean you up.”

“I’m alright,” I smile at her. “But maybe you could give Morris his medicine. It’s all laid out, and tell him I will be up as soon as I stitch up Jackson.” Dorothy nods before slowly limping off towards the steps while Jackson grabs my medic bag.

“I’ll take care of myself,” I say, snatching the bag back. Jackson raises his brow.

“Catch a bug up that perky ass there, Tink?” I flip him off with my good hand.

“No one touches me,” I state firmly, grabbing my wound care and steri strips. The cut is clean and not too deep, so I choose not to give myself stitches. After I’m properly bandaged, I look back at Jackson.

“Pants off, you’re still getting those stitches.” He rolls his eyes but heads back to the couch. Once I have his wound cleaned, I grab my tools and begin suturing. It’s definitely more of a challenge with my injured hand, but this isn’t my first time suturing a wound with a busted hand. Jackson is taking the suturing well, barely a hiss or grunt, which is somewhat disappointing. I kind of wanted a reason to tease him.

“Thank you,” he grunts out as I begin the process of knotting the suture.

“You haven’t seen the line,” I joke. “Don’t thank me yet.”

“No, no, I meant thank you for everything. Leroy, the boys, and well, this.”

“It’s fine,” I mutter, uncomfortable with his kindness. “You’re all done,” I say, cleaning him and the trash. “I need to go check on–” The power goes out, and I curse, stuffing the garbage into the bin before running up the stairs and into Morris’ room.

I look over the machines, seeing that the battery backups are fully charged and working. “Dorothy, you have a generator, right?”

“Ah,” Morris groans. “Ain’t using that on me, and you can’t use it in a storm anyway unless you’re lookin’ to get burnt.”

“Let me go change, and I’ll be right back,” I say as Morris scoffs.

“I ain’t no child. You don’t need to hold my hand during a storm. I’m just gonna go to sleep.”

“Grouch,” I mutter, teasing him before walking to my room and changing again.

I slip on a black cropped ribbed tank top, grey sweats, and a black zip-up hoodie. Glancing out the dreaded window, a bolt of lightning illuminates the dark area and… Oh my god…

“No,” I whisper as I blink and run to the window. My eyes scan the tree line as it’s lit up again. No, no one is there. I’m just seeing thi-

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