Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 37793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
“You two are freaking me out,” I advised them, grabbing my crutches and crossing over to my Mission Antique chest of drawers Kurt had bought me to match his.
Rummaging, I shed my sleep shorts, pulled on briefs, joggers, and a T-shirt, then ordered the dogs to follow as I grabbed the crutches again and briskly left the room.
We all went downstairs together, and I could see the living room as I slowly descended. Several people were drinking wine and picking at charcuterie boards.
“Hi,” Alice called to me. I liked her and her husband, Derek. Actually, I liked all Kurt’s friends. “You’re up. Should you be up?”
“Shit,” Derek said, sounding worried. “Were we too loud? Did we wake you?”
“Are you okay coming down the stairs on your crutches?” Javier asked.
It was a lot of questions at once.
“I’m really good with crutches,” I responded to Javier, one of Kurt’s oldest friends in Chicago. “Unfortunately, I’ve had a lot of practice.”
“Which is so not great.”
“It happens.”
“We did wake you, didn’t we?” Alice sounded remorseful as she looked at the others. “We’re bad people. Worse—bad friends.”
“No, not at all. The dogs were in the room with me, and they wanted out.”
“See? I told you,” Brian said to the group. “Baylor was being an ass. Why couldn’t he let the dogs go outside with them?”
So some guy named Baylor was the man Kurt was yelling at. “Baylor who?” I asked.
“Baylor Donovan,” Alice advised me.
“And it was stupid that Baylor didn’t want the dogs outside with him and Kurt,” Liz, Brian’s wife, concurred. “We should have insisted he take them, but we were in a fierce game of Uno here, George, and you know how we all hate to lose.”
“I do,” I said, grinning at her. “You people take your games far too seriously.”
“Would we say too seriously?” Brian mused.
“Plus, it was so fast,” Javier commented. “Kurt and Baylor were headed outside before we even knew what was happening.”
“Well, I’m gonna take the dogs out now,” I told him, already on my way to the door.
“Maybe Baylor’s afraid of them,” Claudia offered as she poured herself a glass of wine. “I mean, why else would he insist the dogs stay inside?”
Good question.
“But you can go back to bed,” Alice offered kindly. “Vince and Car are out on the deck. They can let the dogs down into the yard.”
Why were Carson and Vince out there as well instead of inside with everyone else?
I wasn’t actually worried, because if I had been, I would have grabbed one of the two guns I kept in my nightstand before heading downstairs. Kurt was involved in some kind of discussion outside, not fighting for his life.
Crossing to the sliding glass door leading to the patio, I exited fast, the dogs on my heels, and they immediately charged over to the tall gate that, strangely, was closed. Normally, we kept the one on the deck open. If we were going out, we closed it, as it kept the two Dobermans from taking the flight of stairs down to the backyard. The property was not fenced, and we didn’t want them roaming onto the preserve. They probably wouldn’t, but neither of us was taking any chances with their lives.
“Fuck this,” Carson growled, moving around me to reach a tub of sports equipment Kurt kept on the deck for his patients. Sometimes it was easier for kids, and some adults, to talk to him while their hands were engaged.
“Amazing what a kid will tell you while they’re bouncing a basketball,” he’d told me when I’d first inquired about the various items.
When I reached the railing, I could see Kurt pacing as Baylor tried, unsuccessfully, to grab hold of his arms. Whatever the talk was about, Kurt didn’t want to hear it.
“Let the dogs out,” Vince told me, then turned to his husband, who rotated his right arm once, then gripped the ball. One second it was in his hand, and I had a moment to think, Is he going to throw that? before he fired the ball like his arm was a rifle.
I had watched lots of football in my life, seen lots of quarterbacks throw the ball, but I’d never seen anyone I personally knew hurl anything that fast. I barely had enough time to turn my head before there was a scream of pain.
Across the yard, Kurt was now bent over Baylor, who was writhing on the ground, clutching his left shoulder. After a moment, Kurt straightened up. When he did, the dogs, who had been at the gate, dying to get out, suddenly calmed. They could see, as well as I could, that Kurt was fine and the threat had been quashed.
“You’re in trouble.” Vince snickered a second before Kurt yelled.
“Have you lost your mind?”
“What?” Carson volleyed back as though he couldn’t hear him. I knew that ruse; I’d used it many times myself.