Page 3 of Stray

“Like I need a weird name to do that. My god, you have more tattoos than my son. And what’s that shit in your face?”

I give him a shrug and sigh dramatically. “Daddy issues,” I confess, hanging my head. “It’s a shame, really. I mean, if I had just been loved a little more, maybe I would’ve made something of myself, could’ve gone to college, landed a good job, and helped people. Yet here I am, covered in ‘shit.’” I smirk as I meet his narrowed eyes.

“I don’t like you.” He spits. “You going to be calling my hard-working boys in here every time you need to lift something? Jesus Christ, my cattle have taken shits bigger than you.”

“Might wanna stop feeding them so much then.” I shrug while looking toward his dresser, where all his medication bottles have been laid out. I pick one up, scanning over the label.

“Don’t be stealing my pills to get high now!” He barks before going into a coughing fit. Dorothy tries to help to calm him down.

“Now, why would I need your crummy pills when I brought a kilo of my own shit?” I wave my hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about me, old man. I’ll be flying high as soon as I crawl into bed tonight.”

Morris snarls his upper lip, but I notice a gleam in his eyes that wasn’t there when I first walked in. He’s got a fire underneath that gruff exterior. He likes to banter, and my guess is everyone around here has taken to babying and coddling him. Well, lucky for the old man, I can dish it out as well as I can take it.

“So,” I look around the room. “Locked away in your tower, huh?” Morris rolls his eyes.

“Might come as a shock, but I’m dying. Can’t really get out there and wrestle the cattle anymore.” He mutters, and I lean against the wall.

“You could be downstairs in the living room,” I suggest while noticing Dorothy’s eyes soften. Morris shakes his tired head.

“I ain’t making those boys walk by and see what I’ve become. Best I stay out of their way; they got a ranch to run.”

“Wow,” I say flatly. “How depressing. You want some cheese with that whine?” Dorothy snaps her gaze to mine, and I notice her tensing. She looks ready to yell at me when it happens. Morris lets out the softest of chuckles while staring at me.

“You’re going to be a pain in my ass.” He muses, and I smirk.

“Please, like you’d want it any other way.”

* * *

“He hasn’t so much as cracked a smile in nearly a year,” Dorothy says, her voice full of appreciation and sadness. I give her a small smile as we make our way down the steps.

“Mama!” I hear Jackson’s loud voice before turning to see him running up the steps. “Stop, you could hurt yourself! And what in the hell are you doing?” He snaps at me, and I feel the icy anxiety filling me up again. “You’re a damn nurse! You should know better than to let her go downstairs unassisted!”

“Jackson Morris Rowe!” Dorothy snaps and smacks his arm before I have a chance to straighten out my chaotic thoughts. Fuck, his voice is almost terrifying when he’s yelling. “She is helping me. I’m leaning on the banister, and she’s next to me! Apologize immediately!”

“No,” I state firmly as I move around him. I need to get away from him before I have an anxiety attack. “I don’t do apologies. You say what you feel and leave it there. I’ll run into town for you now, Dorothy.” With that, I walk out of the house and towards Gretchen.

Once I’m seated and the door is closed. I lean my head against the steering wheel and allow the tears to roll. Not because Jackson hurt my feelings but from the panic trying to drown me. Today has been a lot so far, and I’m not used to being around men. Especially so many large ones. His voice, when he yelled, it rattled me to my core.

I pull myself up right and let out a blood-curdling scream while flailing my arms when I see Jackson at my driver’s door. Anger - and probably some embarrassment - wash over me while I step out of Gretchen and glare at him.

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” I yell loudly. “You got some creepy ass stalker kink I wasn’t made aware of? Huh?” I don’t give him the chance to answer. My body is vibrating, my heart is pounding, and I feel a wave of nausea churning in my stomach. “I don’t like being touched! I don’t like being yelled at! And I sure as fuck don’t need your dumb ass sneaking up on me like some goddamn predator!” I’m panting at this point, and Jackson stares at me, bewildered.

“I…” He looks around as if he can’t believe what’s happening is real. “I came to apologize for yelling at you and to give you the list you forgot.”

“Oh,” My voice comes out tiny and full of embarrassment as I look away from his hardened face, take the paper, and walk away. Once I’m back in Gretchen, my eyes lock with Jackson’s again. His gaze is a familiar one, the one that I’ve seen on many people who are unsure how to handle me. Like I’m a wounded wolf backed into a corner. I hate that look and that I haven’t been here a day, and I’ve already brought it out of him. Jackson blinks before shaking his head and walking back to the house, probably to discuss the spectacle I just made. Wonderful.

* * *

Sitting in Gretchen, I exhale a long sigh while staring up at the house. The trip to the store was a bust. Actually, that’s probably an understatement. I figured it would be a rough trip. A tattooed woman with weird hair in a small town is sure to warrant some stares or whispers, but never did I expect someone to come up to me and ask if I was a prostitute. And then there was another person taking pictures of me with their phone. I don’t know who, but I could hear the shutter noise on the camera app. Which if you’re taking pictures of someone without their consent, why aren’t you silencing your fucking phone?

Shaking off the annoyance from the trip, I walk into the house, and oh my god. I have no idea what that delicious smell is, but it travels from my nose straight to my stomach, making it growl in need. Walking into the kitchen, I smile at Dorothy as she pours something into multiple bowls.

“Chicken and dumplings?” She asks, offering me a bowl.

“I have no idea what that is, but if this is what smells so amazing, then god, yes.” I smile as I sit next to Jensen and across from Jackson and Carter.

Carter chuckles. “How do you not know about chicken and dumplings?”

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