Page 27 of Pack Coffey

He barks out another laugh. "Don't know how much those things weigh, do you?"

I shake my head. As soon as we get to the bottom, I physically see the tension leave Keaton's body. Knowing he was so stressed; I go over and throw my arms around his waist. Thankfully, the crowd lost interest and no one is down here except for him. Banks leads us inside so he can let me feel just how much the hoses weigh, and I realize I've thoroughly misjudged it since it weighs probably more than I do. Or so it feels.

"Want to go for lunch?" Keaton asks while Banks loads the hose back on the truck.

"Sure," I tell him, reaching for his hand this time.

They drive us over to a local burger place. We enjoy a good lunch while I listen to them tell stories on each other about all of the shenanigans they've gotten up to over the years.

"I bet you were both handfuls for your packs growing up," I say, finishing off my burger and sitting back with a satisfied sigh.

They laugh, and Banks explains, "Actually, Keaton here used to be a good boy until he met the likes of me, and I corrupted him."

"And why can I totally see that being true?" I tell them.

When we get back in the truck, Banks asks, "Are we taking you back to the pack house or are you wanting to go home?"

"As much as I really would love to spend the rest of the day at the pack house, I've got a lot to do that I've been slacking on lately," I admit sadly.

Keaton snaps up the hand closest to him. "It's okay. We've got all the time. Don't be sad."

"We could hang out with you for a little while," Banks offers, wiggling his eyebrows.

I laugh. "Then I really will get nothing done."

He nods, making a funny face. "That's probably true."

We do a quick exchange of numbers before Keaton pulls us out onto the road.

Arriving back at my tiny house, I give Banks a quick kiss before Keaton walks me to my door. The rain is continuing to pour, creating huge puddles in the yard. I slip in one, but thanks to Keaton's quick reflexes, he's able to grab me before I faceplant into the mud.

"Thanks," I tell him as we make it under the porch.

He looks out toward the puddles, "That's going to be dangerous if it keeps raining like this."

"I'll be fine," I say. "I always seem to have a hero around me lately."

I don't even care if it sounds cringey as hell. It's worth the quarter in the cheesy jar for the smile that it earns me from him. Going up on my toes, I lift my chin. He brings his lips down to slant against mine. Where Banks takes what he wants, Keaton waits patiently for it, kissing me like we've got all the time in theworld and never have to stop. It's soft and it's sweet. Just like warming myself around the campfire that he smells like.

By the time that we separate and he dashes back to the truck, I'm regretting my decision not to go with them. Something is still nagging at the back of my mind about last night, too. Walking the porch, I look for any other footprints other than mine or the pack. Glancing around the edges, I realize that is a lost cause. If there was any kind of evidence left, it's long gone from the continuous downpour. Not like it matters, because I was delirious with not having sleep and the storm had me seeing things. Still, I glance around before going inside and locking the door behind me.

Chapter Nine

After this weekend with first Saint and then Keaton and Banks yesterday afternoon, I spent hours with Lawrence in the studio. I confessed that I was a little spooked the night before during the storm and couldn't shake the feeling. He offered to let me come to the pack house, but I turned him down for the sake of what I've got to do today. The same reason I didn't ask him to stay with me either, even when I really wanted him to. For no other reason than not wanting to be alone. As he'd pulled away, I turned all the outside lights on, made sure all the windows and door were locked and curtains were pulled closed. Taking extra precautions, I'd slid one of the chairs from my small dining set under the door knob and booby trapped the stairs, deciding to sleep in the loft on the couch to be safe. If anyone came in during the night, they'd definitely have a hard time not making any noise trying to get to me. Especially in the dark. I promise myself as I wake for the fifteenth time in the middle of the night that I'm going to talk to Saint about security.

In the light of day, I can't help but think of what a fool I'd been. Scared witless of a shadow during a storm. So badly that I'd turned my tiny house into a death trap. This morning I'd tripped over the stuff I'd forgotten I'd left on the stairs and almost took a tumble down them. Seriously, walking weenie over here.

By the time that I'm leaving my house, I feel like a complete idiot. The rain finally stopped sometime during the night, allowing the sun to come out from behind the clouds this morning. I soak up the rays on my face before tugging my jacket tight against me and setting off down the driveway. Not for the first time this week, I wish that I had my car. If I did, I wouldn't be having to walk to the bus station to take it to where I'm going. It'd take about three hours less too. Any one of the pack would've given me a ride in a heartbeat, but then I would have to explainmy darkest secret. I'm not sure I'm ready for that just yet.

So, instead, I take a leisurely stroll to the bus station, buy myself a ticket, and wait patiently reading a book until my bus is ready to depart. It takes five hours one way, because it stops at so many different depots trading passengers. Mine is a straight shot, so I don't bother getting off.

As we roll into my final stop, I'm already exhausted and the worst is yet to come. I hail a taxi from the depot and have them take me to the State Correctional Facility for the Criminally Insane. The driver, of course, looks at me like I've lost my mind and should join the people behind the doors inside, but he doesn't know the half of it. I pass him his bills, giving him a little extra even though it won't change his opinion of me.

Once inside, I have to go through multiple checkpoints where I'm forced to leave my jacket and all belongings in a basket for retrieval when I leave. I have to go through multiple body checks to make sure that I'm not bringing in anything illegal. Even though the women are required to search other women, I still feel like my skin crawls where they've touched. It makes me miss my pack more than ever.

It takes a little over an hour to go through checkpoints and be ushered into a room where he already waits for me.

"I didn't think you were going to make it today," Dylan says.

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