Page 9 of Stray

“Extra paycheck? Hell, I’m holding out for that Christmas bonus!”

“You mean wiping an old man’s ass isn’t reward enough for you?” I bust up at that one as I sit back on his bed. I move to wipe his face and watch him start to pull back again, and I sigh.

“It was a little over five years ago,” I say softly as I continue to clean him up. “I had just finished a double shift in the ER I was working at. It was a bad second shift. There was a bus crash, many injuries, and a few deaths. There were kids involved.” My voice trails off, and I shake my head to rid myself of the memory. “Anyway, I went to the bar that a lot of us from the hospital frequented but, I don’t know, that night I didn’t know anyone there, so instead of sitting with a group of co-workers at a table, I went to the bar and had a drink and then another. I was about to leave when one of the bartenders set another drink in front of me, saying it was from a secret admirer.” I let out a shaky breath while unbuttoning his top to change him into a clean one.

“Never accept a drink from a stranger. It was the only real advice my mom gave me, and she would drill it into my brain over and over again, but I did.” I shove the shirt into the hamper with more force than necessary. “I remember drinking it, and that’s about it. Next thing I know, I’m naked and chained to a metal pole in a basement. I had this, ummm..” I feel my lip wobble as I try to focus on buttoning his new shirt. “They put one of those correction dog collars on me, but the pincher prongs were these sharp metal points that, when the guys tugged on it, would puncture and rip at my throat.”

Morris’s face darkens, and I see his jaw tensing. Clearing my throat, I decide I’ve shared enough today and stand up, looking for something, anything to do. “Anyway, you asked what happened to my neck the other day. There you go.”

“Ozzy,” he breathes out as he shakes his head. “I meant what happened to make you get that massive tattoo on your neck.” I give him a half-shrug before heading towards the door to take the laundry downstairs.

“Same difference. After I escaped, I got a tattoo to cover up each scar they left on me.” I get halfway out the door before he asks.

“How many tattoos did you get?” I turn back to him and force out a dry laugh.

“I didn’t have a single tattoo before they took me. Now, relax and watch TV.”

Jackson

“Jackson,” my mama’s tired voice pulls at me as I finish wrangling the sheep into the barn, trying like hell to beat this fucking storm that the weatherman most definitely underestimated this time. “Just go up and talk to him.”

“Mama, I love you, but now ain’t the time,” I grunt as I hold my hat on my head at the same time the wind tries to rip it off.

“Son, your father–”

“Relies on me to run this ranch.” I snap as I close up the chicken coop. “As does everyone else. If I needed to go up there, if he needed me up there, I would be up there. Now go on inside, Mama, I need to finish up before the–” The skies open up and release a downpour on top of us. Mama tries to make her way to the steps as fast as possible with her bad hip. I’m about to help her when the door swings open, and Ozzy jumps down the steps and grabs my mom’s arm to help heave her up the slick steps and into the house.

Ozzy comes back out a second later and stares up at me. “Can I help?” She asks over the loud rain soaking us both and booming thunder.

I shake my head. “Take care of Mama and Pops! I gotta tie down the tools on the truck, and then I’ll be in!” She nods, and I watch her turn to go back inside, but she stops when we both hear a loud cry. Fucking Leroy. He’s still out there. She turns to look at me, eyes wide, and before I can tell her not to, I watch her jump back off the patio and run into the field.

“Goddamn it, Ozzy!” I shout while running after her as she sprints through the field and over to the hill Leroy’s dumb ass is standing on, screaming. I’ll give her this, she’s fucking fast. I’ve never had to push so hard to keep up with someone. Once I reach her, I grab her with my gloved hand around her elbow, and she shoves me away.

“Don’t touch–”

“Ozzy!” I bark out while trying to catch my breath. Fuck, my lungs are on fire. “You can’t carry him! He weighs more than you! He’s scared, and you have no rope! What the fuck were you going to do?” She stares up at me, eyes wide, chest heaving from her labored breathing. She goes to speak, but a bolt of lightning next to us stops her. I hear the loud cracking of a tree limb, and I look up to see the large branch falling. Without thinking, I grab Ozzy and shove her away before the limb drops, part of it cutting through my jeans and the side of my thigh. “Fucking cocksucker!” I bite out as I grip my injury from my place on the wet ground.

“Jackson!” Ozzy gasps as she runs back over to me, trying to inspect the wound.

“Stop,” I growl, swatting her away. “You can see we are in a dangerous area; now isn’t the time! Get your ass back to the ho– Where are you going?” I shout at her retreating figure.

“If you won’t let me help you, I’m helping him!” I watch in horror as she runs up the hill towards Leroy.

“Fucking damn it!” I punch the ground before standing up and trying to walk towards the fucking reckless, psychotic woman and that fucking goat. I’m going to kill one of them. The pain radiating through my leg is unreal, and there is zero chance I’m getting to her and Leroy, getting back to the barn, and then to the house. Patting my pockets, I curse when I don’t feel my phone to call for my brothers. My clothes are beyond soaked, and it feels like weights pulling me down as I slowly limp towards this fucking pain in my goddamn ass and the stupid goddamn goat.

When I get to Ozzy, she is sweet-talking Leroy as she walks him down the hill and into one of our pole barns. I finally reach her, and she is fighting with everything she has to close the door, struggling against the dangerous wind whipping around us. I put my arms on either side of hers, helping her close and secure the door. Ozzy turns around, and I watch her narrowed eyes go round with fear.

“Jackson!” She gasps while grabbing my soaked shirt and pulling me into her just as a shovel whistles by my head. Well, I guess my fucking brothers didn’t bother to check the truck to see if I had everything strapped before running inside. I stare down at her. Our faces are a hair’s width apart. She’s so cold. Her body is shaking like a leaf. Her teeth are chattering, and her hands, which are still gripping me, feel like ice.

“Get back to the house,” I say, my voice coming out gravelly as I refuse to move away from her. “Tell Jen and Carter to get their asses out here and pick me up.” Her brows furrow together, and I refuse to think about the wrinkles between her brows or how they are kind of cute. Now isn’t the time.

“Why aren’t you coming back?” Is this one of those fuck it, I might die moments? Because I have no reason to be this fascinated with Ozzy’s lips or that pretty little opal ball on her tongue. What would it feel like to kiss her? To feel that piercing in my mouth?

“No,” I say, trying to push those thoughts away. We are minutes from a goddamn tornado touching down, and I’m over here fantasizing about her tongue piercing? “It’s too far, and my leg is killing me. I’ll stay here until they get a quad runner and get me. Now go.”

“But–” I interrupt her protest by groaning.

“Isn’t it bad enough that you nearly killed yourself and caused me to fuck up my leg? Go to the house and get my brothers to come get me.” She narrows her eyes before shoving my chest and storming off. I didn’t like letting her go alone, but hopefully, she would get there quickly and safely. Until then, I get to sit here, stressed the fuck out, because I will have no way of knowing if she’s okay until one of my brothers shows up.

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