by Zoey Marcel
The rain and thunder which had at first seemed romantic and wild now spoke of tragedy and darker days ahead.
“That means a lot, darlin’. Thank you, but you have to leave.” Either the rain was magically falling upward into his eyes or those were tears dripping.
“Why?” she squeaked with a sniffle.
“Because I don’t want you to see me die.” He kissed her head and his heart smiled when she squeezed the life out of him. “Promise me you’ll always keep that locket I gave you and wear it sometimes.”
“Always. I promise.” She cried harder. “Thank you for giving it to me, and your heart.”
A deep, unbearable ache plagued his chest. Doc pulled back so he could look at her while he brushed away her tears. “Thank you for giving me yours.”
Chapter Eight
Stetson sat on a barstool in the saloon, drinking Jack Daniel’s. His chest felt heavy and he had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach as his mind ran back over the events of earlier that evening. What the hell had he been thinking? Clearly thinking had had no hand in it.
Jade had pissed him off when she punched him in the groin, and he naturally wanted to punish her for it. But it was more than that. She touched his crotch, albeit in a violent manner, but it triggered something dark and sadistic in his past. Her hand made contact with his balls, and it conjured memories he didn’t want to face. He’d snapped and wanted to hurt her for forcing him to remember.
That was wrong. He didn’t want to hurt her, even if she was a tart. She wasn’t any of the people who hurt him long ago, and it was hardly fair to put their transgressions on her. He’d hurt her, mocked her, and violated her…and her pussy had gotten soaked because of it.
What the fuck was that about? She’d clearly been scared, judging by her actions, but evidently she wanted him, even though she hated him.
His eyes closed and he forced the memories out. He could relate. He knew what it was to want, to hate. It was a confusing, terrifying hell when both occurred at once.
To a small degree he’d coerced her into his shoes, and he never wanted to do that with anybody. He’d never done that to any of his subs years ago. Even when disciplining them or getting them off he’d never lost control.
What was different about Jade? Why did she bring out his dark, uninhibited side? Why the hell had he lost it so completely and role-played the very monsters that shaped him into someone he could no longer look at in the mirror and value?
He owed her an apology. That was going to be real fun, but it didn’t matter how difficult it would be to humble himself in front of the slut. He needed to make things right.
The bartender, a young redheaded man, was staring at him for some reason. He didn’t look very old, maybe in his twenties.
“Hey, aren’t you one of Doc’s friends?” he asked.
“Who wants to know?” Stetson evaded before taking another drink of his whiskey.
The guy was all smiles. “Patrick wants to know. I’m Patrick, by the way.”
As if Stetson were a fucktard who couldn’t reach that conclusion on his own. “I figured.”
“You’re Stetson, right?”
He nodded, wishing the yapping squirrel would just shut up and leave him be.
“I thought so. I’m a friend of Doc’s, too,” Patrick informed him with pride. “How is his crotch?”
Stetson was certain he must have heard wrong. “Excuse me?”
“His groin.” Patrick’s countenance saddened. “He got kicked by a donkey earlier. I wanted to make sure he was okay.”
“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Stetson suggested impatiently.
Patrick became even glummer. “I would, but he’s kind of mad at me right now. How is he?”
Dying. The memory of this morning cut Stetson in two. His best friend, his anchor of comfort, and the one constant in his life was dying of cancer. Life was just one epic pile of shit. Who else wanted to come along and take a crap on him?
“I haven’t seen him since this morning.” Stetson took another gulp and polished off his liquor. He hoped the spunky cuss didn’t persist with all these nagging questions, because frankly he wasn’t in the mood.
“Will you ask about his dong and then report back to me, please? I mean, sir?” Patrick asked.
The word dong tickled his funny bone for some reason. “I suppose.”
“Thanks. Aw, there are cows on the TV over there.” Patrick pointed to a TV screen across the room. “Cows are so cute, aren’t they? I like cows. Actually it’s more than that. I freakin’ love cows. Cows are my favorite. Do you like cows? I wish I was a cow. I’d moo and make milk.”
Stetson decided he’d had enough to drink for one night. Or rather, he’d had enough of frivolous banter. He stood and donned his hat.
“Of course since I’m a guy I’d probably be a bull instead of a cow,” said Patrick, half to himself. “In that case I’d graze and frolic. And if anyone messed with all my lady cows, I’d gore their asses. I swore. Doc would be so proud. I hope his groin is okay. Be sure to ask for me.”
Stetson was already halfway to the door, but he heard the kid call to him with the request, and he answered the chattering chipmunk with a casual wave of his hand without looking back at him.
* * * *
Jade woke up screaming. The nightmare was so vivid, so real she would swear it was a flashback rather than a meaningless dream.
She heard a rush of footsteps and her bedroom door flung open. The light flickered on, and through her squinting eyes she could see that Stetson entered her room alone.
God save her. Was he here to spank her for creating a ruckus?
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asked.
Funny thing was that he actually sounded vaguely caring at the moment, which didn’t match with his words. Did he not know how to be tender or something?
“I had a bad dream. Where are the others?”
“I don’t know. Everybody split earlier. I think we’re alone.”
Jade freaked and saw that he, too, looked uncomfortable. She pulled the covers up more to hide her body from him. Pj’s didn’t seem like protection enough. She’d club him to death with her pillow if he came any closer.
“Go away.”
“Do you want to talk about your nightmare?” he asked.
“No. Now leave.”
Her eyes widened in apprehension when she saw him take several insidious steps toward her. He dared to sit down on the edge of her bed, and she squirmed and sat up more when his tailbone brushed her leg.
“Sometimes it helps to talk about things, or so they say.” He seemed awkward and way out of his comfort zone to be having this conversation with her.
“It was just a dream where some big, burly guy beat the crap out of me and broke my laptop. No big deal.”
“Was it a dream or a flashback? Tell the truth.”
How did he know she was tempted to lie to him to get him to go away? “I think it was a flashback.”
His head jerked and he looked outraged. “You were abused?”
She shrugged, wondering if he was concerned or wishing that he could have been the man to kick her ass. “Maybe. It’s hard to say without my memory. It felt the same as when I’ve had flashbacks, but whatever it was it’s in the past. It’s no big deal.”
“The past is a big deal,” he said rather defensively.
“Well, it might be if I could remember it.”
“Be grateful you can’t.” He got up and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
What the heck was his problem? She confided something personal to him, and then he chastised her and raged right on out of her bedroom? Complicated jerk.
To her surprise, Stetson returned a moment later, holding his cowboy hat in his hands and twiddling his fingers on it nervously. Had he taken the hat off out of respect for her? Yeah, right. This was the twenty-first century and Stetson was no gentleman. He was the typical sorry-excuse-of-an-asshole man.
How had Kellan turned out so sweet and fun when he lived with him?
“Is your bed to your liking?” Stetson asked, looking like he wanted to run the fuck out of there.
His question puzzled her. Now he cared about her comfort? A second ago he left when she needed to be held in consolation. “Yeah, thanks.”
“I spanked you earlier.”
She supposed it was the prelude to an apology, but none followed it. The awkward pause would have made her laugh if she didn’t feel the repercussions of it so strongly.
“Yes, you did.”
He turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. She sat there in a state of maddening confusion. What was up with him tonight? And why the hell didn’t he at least do her the courtesy of shutting the damned light off?
She got up to flip the switch, shrieking when the bedroom door opened and Stetson walked in again. He seemed startled at her nearness and took a quick step backward.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, crossing her arms in an awkward tangle to hide her heaving bosom from him.
“I stuck my finger up your cunt earlier,” he said uncomfortably.
“Yeah, I know. What do you want, a repeat?”
“No. I’m not here to fuck you.”
“Then what are you here for?”
“I came to…apologize for the way I behaved toward you earlier.”
Jade blinked at him in shock. Judging by the nervous way he fidgeted she would guess he wasn’t very well acquainted with the act of apologizing, if at all. “You’re apologizing to me?”
He nodded. “I behaved shamefully.”
“I’ll say. What came over you earlier?”
“Something,” he replied vaguely.
Well, no shit.
She barely managed to keep from rolling her eyes. “Well, I forgive you.”
“Why?”
Good lord, couldn’t he just thank her and leave? Why did he insist on psychoanalyzing this? She really just wanted to put it behind them and forget all about it.
She shrugged. “I don’t know, because I’m not upset anymore.”
“Why not?” he interrogated.
God, he was impossible.
“I guess because it was hours ago and it’s time to move on.” She jumped back when he reached for her arm. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“You’re still afraid of me. The wrong I did you still bothers you, yet you say you forgive me.”
“I do forgive you, but getting over it is going to take time.”
“And what if you can’t?”
She rolled her eyes this time. “Give me a break, Stetson. You just spanked me and felt me up a little. It’s not like you raped me.”
His brown eyes flickered with pain and darkness and his tone lowered with anguish. “What if I had?”
His words startled her, but they didn’t scare her as much as she thought they might. She stared at him with her lips parted, trying to figure why the hell he asked her that.
His shields went up and he hurried out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Jade was dumbfounded, but she quickly locked the door. Frankly the idea of turning off the light made her nervous, but she did so anyway and then scampered back into bed.
His startling words and strange actions ran a broken record through her mind as she tried to make sense of it all. What…the…hell?
* * * *
Kellan found Doc outside, watching the sun rise. “I was hoping I’d find you here.”
Doc offered him a friendly half smile. “What’s on your mind?”
“I’m sorry you’re sick.” That was an understatement. Sick was having a cold or the flu, not a terminal disease.
“Oh, it’s not your fault. Shit happens.”
A few restless hours of sleep hadn’t done anything for Kellan’s troubled spirit. He was more depressed now than ever, so much so that he’d forgotten his usual morning run with Jade. She’d still been sleeping, though, when he checked.
The urge to shift was subtle compared to his heavy heart this morning, but his wolf seemed restless to have missed his morning ritual of shifting and running with his mate.
Kellan cleared his throat. “Sawyer and I were talking over drinks last night and—”
“There you are.” Sawyer approached, looking tired and bothered as well. “Anybody know what the hell is up with Scrooge?”
“Why? Is he in a bad mood?” Kellan guessed. Shocking.
“No. He’s in the kitchen making pancakes.”
Doc had a serene expression on his face and a contented smile as he lit a cigar for himself. “That’s hardly surprising. Stetson has made pancakes before.”
“Yeah, when it was his turn to cook, and he’d never take requests. It was always ‘eat this or go fuck yourself.’” Sawyer shook his head. “He had a tray out and a vase of flowers. I think he was making Jade breakfast.”
Doc smiled without looking at either of them, but he didn’t say anything.
Kellan gaped at Sawyer. “You’re kidding? No wonder he asked me what her favorite flowers were.”
“I saw him get into the truck this morning while it was still dark out,” Sawyer continued. “I asked him where he was going, and he said he was going to the flower shop. Then he told me to put a fucking shirt on.”
Kellan grinned. “Why were you running around in the dark without a shirt on?”
Sawyer smiled. “I wasn’t. I think he’s just used to saying it. How you feeling this morning, Doc?”
“Oh, I can’t complain.”
“Did you get any sleep last night?” Sawyer asked.
Doc shook his head and took a drag off his cigar. “Not really, no.”
“Doc, you shouldn’t be smoking those things in your condition,” Kellan warned.
“I only have a few months if not days to live, and I will not be coddled,” Doc insisted. “Nothing has helped, not even behaving myself. Would you really deny a dying man a final cigar?”
“Except that ain’t gonna be your last one, is it?” Sawyer teased.
Doc grinned. “Not by a long shot.”
Kellan shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans and moved some dirt around with the toe of his boot. “Doc, Sawyer and I were talking about you last night.”
“Well, I’m not surprised. I didn’t mean to be such a killjoy yesterday.”
“Forget about it. You don’t have to apologize for being sick,” Kellan told him. “Anyway, we were talking last night and we want to help you cross off the rest of your bucket list.”
Doc appeared touched. “That’s kind of you, but I have Jade for that.”
“What, you got some kind of limit on friends who can help you, you stickler?” Sawyer joked, though he seemed like he was as troubled as Kellan was. “Think how much faster you can cross things off with three people helping you instead of one.”
Doc winked at him. “You in a hurry to get rid of me, Sawyer?”
Sawyer’s eyes dropped and he looked depressed. “You know that wasn’t how I meant it. If I had my way, you’d live forever.”
“I appreciate that, and I accept your offers to help if that’s what you really want to do.”
“It is,” Kellan insisted. “Anything we can help you with up front?”
Doc’s focus seemed internal as he mulled over his thoughts. “Well, there is one thing. I’ve always had this fantasy of sharing a woman with my closest friends.”
Sawyer grinned. “Well, Doc, you’ve already done that, but if you can’t remember then we’re more than happy to relive those four-ways we all had with Jade.”
Doc smirked before his expression turned serious. “I want all of my closest friends there.”
Kellan understood. “Stetson would never go for something like that.”
Sawyer rolled his eyes. “Son of a bitch, Doc, why in the hell do you want to invite Sergeant Crab Cakes into the mix? He’ll just ruin your final ménages with his ‘you fucktard
s make me sick’ kind of talk.”
“You told him once he could join us,” Kellan reminded him.
Sawyer grimaced. “I know. I must have been shitfaced or something. He’d find a way to spoil all the fun.”
Doc remained stubborn. “I want him there.”
Sawyer sighed. “Well, maybe we can get him drunk first.”
Kellan laughed. “Or we could try talking with him and tell him how important it is to Doc.”
Doc stiffened. “I don’t want him to know it was my idea.”
“Well, he sure as hell won’t go for it if he thinks it was my idea,” said Sawyer. “Of course we could always try reverse psychology. I’ll tell him the thought of sharing a woman with him makes me want to hurl everywhere. That should do the trick.”
Kellan shook his head with a tiny smile. “It’s a nice thought, Sawyer, but he’d see through it.”
Doc stared out at the seafoam-green sky and faded gold light of the rising sun. “It’s been a hell of a ride, hasn’t it?”
“I’ll say.” Sawyer forced a smile, but it slipped away all too quickly. “It’s been a pleasure knowing you, Doc.”
“And you.”
“We’re going to miss you real bad,” Kellan told him, feeling a painful lump forming in his throat. His eyes started to water, and he didn’t see how anything would ever be the same without Doc there.
Doc heaved a tormented sigh. “It’s not enough.”
“What do you mean?” Kellan asked.
Doc turned slightly on the boulder he sat on and looked at them seriously. “One night. It’s not enough and it never will be. I want to share Jade with the two of you and Stetson…permanently.”
Although surprised, Kellan found himself beaming over the idea.
Sawyer appeared caught off guard for a second, but the moment passed and his features evolved to show his enthusiasm. “Well, hot damn. You know I’m always up for a little ménage, Doc, but Stetson would never go for it.”
