Page 69 of The Way Back Home

“Come on, Z,” August says, and she looks at him with her head cocked to the side. He rolls his eyes and turns to face her, using a hand gesture. “Zora, come.”

She whines and runs alongside him. August may only have one leg but damn that man can move fast. I hurry behind and finally catch up when we reach the truck. August opens the door.

“Get in the car,” he says, and then turns to the dog. “Zora, in the truck.” The dog whines, and I don’t miss the fact that his commands to her were a little bit nicer than the orders he gave me, but I try not to overthink it because his little sister is sick.

I dive in and set Betty on the seat next to Zora. She could take off the piglet’s head in about three seconds flat if she wanted to. Like most MWDs, she’s trained to attack when necessary, but the dog doesn’t pay my little piglet any mind. She’s panting and her ears are pinned back low to her head, indicating that she’s stressed. It could just be the hike through the bushes at August’s clipped pace, but I’m betting it has more to do with her daddy’s anxiety rubbing off on her and everyone else in this truck. I rifle through my purse and find my phone. I have thirty missed calls, most from the shelter, but others from numbers I don’t recognize.

August climbs in, shoves the keys in the ignition, and slams the truck in reverse before I’ve even had time to locate my seatbelt, and then we’re tearing down the road toward town.

I hit a few buttons and Josiah’s voice comes through the speaker, “Hey, Olivia. It’s me. Josiah. Um ... you’re gonna wanna call me here at the shelter, apparently Bett’s in the hospital and I don’t know what to do.”

Shit. The poor kid sounds terrified. I don’t bother listening to the rest of the messages, I can do that later. Instead, I call Josiah and tell him to shut up the shelter and head home to Tanglewood, and that August and I are on our way to the hospital. Slipping the phone back in the bag at my feet, I clutch Betty tight as August flies around another corner.

“August, you need to slow down,” I say, holding onto the doorframe for dear life. “We’re not going to make it there if you keep driving like this.”

“My sister is in the hospital, Liv. Don’t tell me what I need to do.”

“She’s gonna be fine, but she won’t be if you total the car and wind up—”

“What?” He takes his eyes off the road to glare at me, and there’s so much anger, so much venom in his gaze that it’s impossible to reconcile this man with the one who was about to kiss me beneath the waterfall just a few minutes ago. “Dead, like my parents?”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” I throw him an apologetic look.

“My baby sister is sitting in a hospital room, probably scared out of her mind, and the whole time I was here fucking around with you.” He takes one hand off the wheel and rakes it through his hair. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

Ouch, that stung like a bitch.“Are you saying this is my fault?”

“Well, if you weren’t here I wouldn’t have taken you down to the falls.”

“You couldn’t have known that she’d get hurt. I hardly think that’s my fault. Accidents happen all the time.”

“You think I don’t know that? My parents are dead; my leg is gone, blown to smithereens along with my dog. I know all about accidents, Olivia.”

“I just . . . where are you going?” I say, noticing that he just flew right by the turn-off. “The hospital is on the other side of town.”

“Well I can’t exactly show up with a dog, a pig and some random woman in tow, can I?”

Random?“You know what? Stop the car, let me out.”

“No.”

I glower at him. “Let me out or I’ll jump.”

He pulls over to the side of the road and I swing the door open, grabbing Betty from the seat. I call Zora because I know he can’t take her to the hospital, and she can’t sit in the hot car all day, but she doesn’t come.

“Zora, out,” August snaps. The dog whines and follows his command, jumping out of the truck.

“Heel, Zora,” I say and she does, but she barks at August.

“Go with Liv,” he says, and then he disappears in a cloud of dust.

Only after he’s gone do I realize that I left my purse, and my phone in his truck.Shoot. It isn’t the walk that bothers me. It’s not that far, and the exercise will do me good, even though the hot sun threatens to burn me from my scalp to the top of my boots. It’s the fact that I almost kissed this man, Ihavekissed this man, and if the sheriff hadn’t shown up today, well, maybe that almost kiss would have led to a heck of a lot more. Maybe not, but these last few weeks I feel like I finally got under August’s skin. I broke through some of his walls only to have him slam a barricade in their place. It seems that’s the way it is with August Cotton.

“Come on, ladies. It’s hotter than a billy goat with a blowtorch out here, and there’s a carton of Ben and Jerry’s with our names on it in the freezer.” I tuck Betty under my arm, afraid she’s already had too much exercise for one day, and I issue Zora with a command by lowering my voice the way August does when he orders her to do something. She walks alongside me, and the three of us head for home. We’re not on the road for more than twenty minutes when a car approaches, headed out of town. It’s one of those sleek black sports cars, and I know who owns it the second it slows and I see that shiny Aston Martin winged badge on the hood.

The car passes, turns around, and pulls up alongside us. Zora isn’t happy about the intrusion. Her jaws snap, and her big body jerks with every bark. The car window rolls down and she jumps up, completely savage.

“Zora, down!” I shout, grabbing her collar and yanking her back. She sits—albeit grudgingly—but she doesn’t take her eyes off the doc.

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