Wounded (Dogs of War MC Book One)

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Wounded (Dogs of War MC Book One) Page 2

by Rossi, Monica


  “What are you doing in here? How in the hell did you open the kitchen door? With your mouth?” scooting closer to him she held out her hand, palm down, she meant no threat at all to this big boy. He nuzzled her hand and wagged his tail looking like nothing more than an overgrown dog. Sitting down on the couch she ran a hand up his neck, moving hair around so she could see his wounds. Amazingly they were healing much more rapidly than was expected or normal. She started to comment on it when she noticed the clumps of hair and dirt on her beige couch. So that’s why he looked guilty. She grinned at him and his tongue lolled out of his mouth, she couldn’t begrudge a sick creature any comfort they could find, even if it meant spending a couple of hours vacuuming and disinfecting the couch.

  “If you’re going to be lounging around on my furniture, you big boy, are going to have to have a bath.” His tail thumped enthusiastically in agreement, or at least that was her interpretation. “Let’s have dinner first and then we’ll give you a good scrub,” and without further prodding he was off to the kitchen. She stared after him amazed. What person would take the time to socialize an animal so thoroughly that it knew the word dinner meant food and felt guilty about sitting on a sofa and then throw it into a ring to fight for its life? Shaking her head she followed him into the kitchen.

  After watching him gobble up a five pound hamburger, cooked just this side of raw, she told him to get in the tub and he hoped in without complaint. Sidney just marveled at him as she worked the Dawn dish detergent into his fur. “If you’re going to stay I’m going to have to call you something other than ‘Boy’ or ‘Wolf’ won’t I?” Stay? How had that thought crept into her brain? She lathered him up again, being extra careful around his wounds, and mulled over the thought of keeping a half ton dog in her house. It would be different, but not bad, maybe it’d take away some of the ache of being new and friendless. “But you don’t want to stay do you boy? You want to roam wild and free through the hills, running deer and scaring the bejesus out of hunters. That’s the life you need.” His cold nose touched her cheek and soon after a huge, rough and wet tongue slurped against the side of her face. She crinkled her nose as she shrugged, wiping her face against the fabric of her shirt, “Ewww. Wolf kisses. You better not have the hydrophoby. I’d hate to have to put you down like Old Yeller. Come on, hop out and let me dry you off.” She was beginning to take for granted that he was going to do what she said, and wasn’t surprised at all when he hopped out of the tub directly onto the towel she’d laid on the floor. She just shook her head, he was obviously a mind reader. She might need to call the Dog Psychic and make an appointment.

  “Look at all this hair, it’s going to take forever to towel dry. Are you going to freak out if I turn on the hair dryer?” His tail thumped against the floor. “Ok, but if I turn it on and you do freak out I’m going to have to… get the hell out of here and run for my life. You ready?” The hairdryer didn’t bother him at all, in fact he closed his eyes and seemed to be leaning into the hot air.

  “You really are a beauty aren’t you?” as he dried she could see how vibrant the red of his hair was against the soft cream color, with a smattering of black woven in giving him that untamed look, “I know, I’ll call you Red! That fits you perfectly. Except you’re the wolf, not the little girl in the woods. But I bet you’d lead that little girl right to her grandma’s door, wouldn’t you, you big sweet baby?” she nuzzled her face into his neck and inhaled his clean smell, a combination of her shampoo, Dawn dish detergent, and wildness. It was very comforting.

  The phone rang jostling her out of her dangerous cuddle session, “Hello?”

  “Hey Sidney.”

  It was David. Of course it would be. She hadn’t thought of him in the last two days so of course he’d call and bring it all back to the surface, “Hello David.”

  “Are you busy?”

  She looked down at Red, who had followed her back into the living room, “Actually yes, is this important?”

  “No, not really, I just hadn’t heard from you since you moved and I wanted to check in. I do still care about you Sidney.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course I do, how could you doubt that?”

  “Well it’s easy. You see, three weeks before we were supposed to get married, I walked in on you fucking our receptionist in the apartment we had just rented together. It made me a little dubious about the depth of your feelings for me.”

  “Sidney…”

  “David…,” The awkward moment of silence extended all the miles between them and his ire was almost palpable. She knew that right now he was looking for the words that would make her feel guilty for having mentioned the ‘incident’ again, waiting for her to mumble something that would negate the truth she had just leveled. Instead she let the silence hang, she wasn’t going to let him do this to her any longer.

  “Sidney, I don’t know how many more times we have to go over this.”

  “Zero. We have to go over it exactly zero more times, all you have to do to never hear about it again is leave me alone.”

  “You know that I love you.”

  “No, actually, I don’t. I know that you enjoyed being engaged to me, I know you liked the idea of marrying me, and I know that the benefits that went with both of those were things that you loved.”

  More silence stretched between them.

  “What would I have to do to convince you that I want us to work?”

  Sidney couldn’t believe he still had the gall to try this, “What do I have to do to convince you that I don’t? I mean it David, do not call me again, don’t write, don’t send a telegram. I’m done.” She looked at the phone, at David’s picture and name staring back at her and pressed ‘end’.

  She sat down in her overstuffed chair and put her face in her hands. Why did she let him get to her? Why could she be so stern with him, so strong sounding, when inside she was crumbling? Why did it still hurt so bad?

  A wet nose bumped her forehead and she raised her watery eyes to Red’s. “Why are men such assholes Red? Huh?” Red whined in reply, “Not you boy, I mean you have all the necessary boy parts but it’s something about the human male that makes them want to crush anyone who loves them.” He wagged his tail. She looked around at her demolished, hair and dirt covered living room and thought about her water covered bathroom and was suddenly bone weary.

  “That’s it for me today. I’m done.” She raised herself from the chair, carefully as if she were injured. “I’m going to spray the whole shower down with Clorox and then get in it and hope that some of the bleach will get on me and cleanse the funk out of my brain.”

  After a long shower she finally made it into bed and despite her best efforts, her mind went back to the night she’d walked in on David and Olivia, the receptionist at their veterinarian clinic, in their brand new apartment. She had been so excited about that stupid apartment. She had toured at least twenty before settling on that particular one. It had a walk in shower, a huge built in bookcase, and a beautiful hummingbird stained glass window over the breakfast nook. Sometimes the thought of losing the apartment hurt almost as much as losing David. She had gone over on impulse that night to hang the new drapes in the kitchen. Shopping for, and decorating, the apartment had become a bit of an addiction for her and she couldn’t help getting a quick fix whenever she had the chance. Little did she know that she’d be walking in to see David’s bare ass pumping away as Olivia screamed bloody murder. She was probably faking it, only porn actresses screamed like that, and honestly David hadn’t inspired that much enthusiasm in bed.

  But she had loved him and walking into that had shattered every dream she had built since the day she’d met him. A sob escaped from her and the tears she’d been holding back leaked into her pillowcase.

  The bed shook, shaking her out of her crying jag. Red had casually bounded onto the bed and lay down beside her. She looked at him for a minute, trying to decide whether or not she should, or could, banish him back to the floor.
Instead she threw her arms around him and let the tears resume, muffling her sobs into Red’s neck. She’d let them out tonight but it’d be the last time she’d cry for him, the very last time.

  “What’s with all the extra pep today?” Francisca’s greasy dark hair dangled into her eyes, making a curtain between her and the rest of the world.

  “Was I being peppy? I apologize, it wasn’t my intention.” Sidney placed her patient files into Fran’s filing tray.

  “You just don’t seem your normal self.”

  “Is my normal self anti-pep?”

  “Yes, no, I don’t know,” she waved her hand in Sidney’s face, looking away, “Whatever.”

  The fact was Sidney was feeling… peppier. It was like David calling and the subsequent bout of crying (ok, sobbing) had released something inside her. It had been a couple days and the crushing knot in her chest hadn’t returned yet.

  She bounced out to her Jeep and opened the door. She did indeed feel full of pep. She patted the huge knobby bone in the passenger side seat of the car, she’d even bought Red a treat while she’d been at lunch. Maybe Red’s presence in her life was helping too. When she was home he was her constant companion, cuddling close at night, running around the block with her, and even laying at her feet while she watched movies, almost seeming to react with her as she watched her shows. Orange is the New Black was his favorite.

  The idea of giving him to a rescue organization or setting him free into the wild was almost completely banished from her mind. He was too tame. Whoever had raised him had completely annihilated any wolf-like instinct he might have had. He was one hundred percent housedog. She thought back to the condition he’d been in when she’d found him and shook her head, trying to dislodge the picture of him broken on the road. The death penalty would be too good for the person responsible for leaving him that way, or for him getting that way in the first place. He was such a loving monster, she couldn’t imagine how someone could have it in their heart to treat him so cruelly.

  Sidney opened her door and called out, “Red I’m home and I’ve brought you a present!”

  Sheepishly he came into the room, head low, dragging her good Egyptian cotton sheet with him.

  “What have you done you naughty boy! And after I got you this!” She waved the bone in front of his nose thinking he’d drop the sheet but he just sat down and stared at her. “Well,” she sighed, “Whatever you’ve done I’ll have to clean it up after dinner.” She put the bone on the counter and turned toward the refrigerator, about to grab all the ingredients she’d need to make herself an omelet, when she heard the most horrible cracking noise, almost like leather being slapped together and stretched at the same time. “What was tha-“

  “Don’t scream.”

  She had only half turned around before she could see the man out of the corner of her eye. A naked man wrapped in her sheet. The carton of eggs fell out of her hands.

  “Stay calm, stay calm, don’t scream,” he put his hands out in front of him as if warding her off, at which point the sheet fell to the floor.

  She screamed.

  He scrambled for the sheet, “Sidney it’s me!”

  “WHO ARE YOU? GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!”

  “It’s me Red!”

  “YOU’LL HAVE TO KILL ME! I WON’T BE RAPED IN MY OWN HOME!” She looked around for a weapon and failing to find one, she grabbed the bone, “I’LL FIGHT! I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL FIGHT AND SCREAM AND YELL.” And with the last of her breath she let out another ear splitting scream and began whacking him with the bone.

  He laughed. The nerve of him, she hit him harder and harder trying to drive him towards the door.

  “Sidney stop, stop! It’s me, it’s Red. Look at me!” he pinned her arms to her side, preventing further bludgeoning.

  She stopped and looked at him and brought her knee up between his legs.

  With an “Ooomph,” he doubled over. He was blocking the door out, so she ran the other way, towards the living room, planning to lock herself in her bedroom and call the police. Panic made her fast and strong, but not faster or stronger than him. He was on her in an instant and they tumbled to the floor, she was pinned under his massive bulk.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise, just look at me. I’m Red, look at me,” he pleaded, searching her face.

  She looked at him, at his big golden brown eyes, at his muted red hair, at the stubble on his square jaw that was redder still with hints of blonde around the edges, and finally at the almost healed pink marks on his neck where his wounds had been.

  And she felt him. Lean, heavy, naked muscle pressing her hard down into the carpet, the warmth emanating from his skin, the unrestrained need that had jolted through her stomach. She searched his eyes again for answers that she knew she didn’t want, and saw desire there instead.

  She lay there defeated, unable to even digest what she was seeing. None of this was possible.

  There wasn’t enough wine in the world for her to cope, yet she kept refilling her glass in hopes that it would either make the world make sense again or knock her out so she wouldn’t have to deal with it any more.

  “So what you’re telling me is that you turn into a giant wolf on occasion,” she tipped her head and poured a few more ounces of liquid sanity down her throat.

  “Yes,” he sat across from her calmly toying with the corkscrew lying in front of him, his chest still bare, looking young and fit and entirely too human.

  “And that you got into a fight with another werewolf on the night that I found you on the side of the road?”

  “Yes”

  Sidney was a rational woman, she liked science and logic and… and… MATH. Math was supremely enjoyable, no matter how you approached a problem you always came to the same solution. This mess was the antithesis to all of that. Yet there he sat, large and nearly naked, telling her that all of her preconceptions about the world were a lie. Werewolves exist and she was sitting across the table from one.

  “This is ridiculous,” she got up from the table, wobbled a bit and took a shaky step, intent and getting away from this ludicrous situation. “I’m going to bed and when I wake up things will be normal again,” she nodded her head, convinced she was making the most sensible decision given current circumstances. She was probably in the midst of a nervous breakdown and some rest and a clear head would straighten her right out. Tomorrow she’d google local psychiatrists and see if she could get an appointment soon.

  Red put his hand on her arm to steady her, “Sidney, I’m not lying to you, this is real. I’ve been staying in your home for days. I can tell you what we ate for breakfast yesterday, who you talked to on the phone, hell, even what panties you put on before work this morning,” he let his hand trail down to her hip.

  Sidney felt the desire flare hot and wild inside her again, she liked the feel of his hand on her and she leaned into him, “Oh yeah? Prove it.”

  “They were purple lace things. You started to wear a black cotton pair but you put them back. I, personally think you made the right decision.”

  She swayed a little, head swimming with wine and conflicting emotions. “Well, cotton panties are nice and sensible, nothing wrong with those at all. Do you think you could leave now, I’m pretty sure I’d like to mull over this particular hallucination in private.”

  “I’m going to need to use your phone to call for a ride,” he looked down at his naked torso and quirked his eyebrow in almost the same exact manner he had when he was a wolf, “and some clothes.”

  Sidney sat back down in the chair and closed her eyes, hoping the world would stop spinning, “Sure it’s –“

  “In the side pocket of your purse, I know.”

  She shook her head. She wasn’t going to think about this anymore, she was going to pass out. It was doubtful that she was going to be able to make it to her bed, but the kitchen table seemed like it’d be a comfortable place to rest for a while. Her head snuggled into her folded arms. Nope, no reason not to sleep sitt
ing in a chair at the table while lying head on said table. It was the most comfortable she’d been in weeks actually. This position was probably good for her spine, look at how they twist themselves up doing yoga and they claim that’s good for you, more people should sleep at tables. Maybe one day she’d write and publish an ebook about the health benefits of kitchen table sleeping.

  “… yeah, I know. Couldn’t be helped. Just come get me. Don’t forget the clothes,” she watched him put the phone back in her purse out of half-closed eyes. She’d be glad when he was gone but in the meanwhile he was nice to look at with his sleek toned body and chiseled features. She studied the tattoos of a howling wolf on his shoulder, the words she couldn’t quite make out on his chest, and her gaze dipped lower to the flat planes of his stomach with its tantalizing little happy trail leading below the edge of the sheet… whatever imaginary person he was talking to should totally forget the clothes. “You probably shouldn’t fall asleep there.”

  “What?” she snapped out of her appreciative inventory of his attributes.

  “You’ll feel like hell when you wake up. Come on, let’s get you in bed.”

  Hmm, that sounded like a fine idea. In theory. In reality she didn’t get in bed with strangers… wait, this wasn’t reality, it was her post break up melt down. So really if she did go to bed with him it’d just be masturbation, right? Makes sense. “Ok,” she placed her hand on the table to hoist herself up, or at least she thought she had. Obviously she had misjudged, because she began her descent to the floor.

  “Whoa, now,” and suddenly she was in his arms, “You’re not much of a drinker are you?”

  “I can hold my own.”

  “I can see that,” he smirked. She drifted through the house and landed with a comfortable thud in bed, “There you are. You’ll have a hell of a headache in the morning.”

  She ventured opening one eye, “I’ve got to change out of these clothes.”

 

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