Page 33 of Strays
By the time we gather her things and head down to the lobby, an officer in MAB uniform is already waiting for us. He leads the way to the hospital parking lot, stopping near a large SUV with government plates.
Shane slides into the front seat, while Johane settles in the back between Jay and me.
As we near her hotel, she points out a garage exit through the window. “That’s where I got hit,” she says. “I was tired and starving after driving five hours straight and then dealing with all the confusion at the MAB about where I’d be staying. So when I finally got to the hotel, I thought I’d stretch my legs, walk around the block, and grab something to eat. I was so distracted I didn’t see the car coming.”
She speaks casually, and the calmness in her voice makes my chest tighten. On her other side, Jay exhales heavily, dragging a hand through his hair.
“That could’ve been a lot worse, Johane,” he murmurs.
The MAB officer drops us off in front of her hotel.
The moment we step into her room, it’s clear Commander Eneas was right: this place is too small for a pack. And now that we’ve found her, I don’t want to be apart from her, not even for a few hours.
I’m ready to spend the entire night sitting on the floor next to the absurdly small bed just to stay close to her, but when I offer to bring her back with us to the MAB housing unit, she lights up.
“Is there a nest?” she asks, excited. “I’ve always wanted to sleep in one.”
So after gathering her bag and checking her out of the hotel, Jay takes the driver’s seat in her Corolla to drive us back to the MAB. Compared to our Ford F-150, the thing is tiny. Johane fits just fine in the front passenger seat, but Jay has to duck and twist just to slide into place. His knees immediately hit the steering wheel. He pushes the seat all the way back, but it’s still not enough: his legs are spread wide, barely avoiding the dashboard, his thighs jammed against the sides.
He looks at his feet and sighs.
Johane laughs. “If it’s that bad, I can drive.”
“No, I’ve got it,” he replies quickly. “It’s just — my boots are too big for the pedals. I have to figure out how not to hit the brake and the gas at the same time.”
Before I get in, I exchange a look with Shane. If Jay’s struggling this much up front, we already know it’s going to be hell fitting into the back.
I go first, folding myself in, one knee nearly hitting my chest. Shane follows, ducking hard to get through the doorframe. When he’s fully inside, the door on his side won’t close.
“For fuck’s sake, Kory, move over,” he grumbles, shoving against me.
“Nowhere to go, man,” I shoot back.
We struggle for a second, but finally manage to squeeze in and shut the door.
Jo glances at us in the rearview mirror. “You guys okay back there?”
Despite being practically folded in half, we both grin back at her. Her scent is thick in the car, wrapping around me. Every time I breathe in, I feel small waves of pleasure rolling through my chest, making everything else easier to ignore.
The hotel isn’t far from the MAB facilities, and when we spill out of her tiny car, I stretch, rolling out the stiffness.
When we enter the housing unit, Johane’s face lights up so much that any lingering discomfort from the drive disappears from my mind. Her pitch-black eyes go round and bright when she sees the nest.
“Jesus, this is huge!” she exclaims.
I think that if she didn’t have bruised ribs, she’d launch herself into it like a kid. Instead, she carefully sits on the edge, takes off her shoes, and then crawls all the way to the center of the large nest mattress. She grabs the plush blanket and hugs it, rubbing the soft fabric against her cheek.
I smile. I’d almost forgotten how much nyras love this kind of thing, but now I remember my mother doing the same now and then. When I glance at my brothers, they’re watching her too, both of them smiling.
Then I notice it: her scent shifts slightly. The lilies grow sweeter, like there’s vanilla woven between the petals. A wave of peace washes over me, and I feel every muscle in my body relax.
I want to climb into that nest with her so badly, but this is our first night together. We can’t rush her. Can’t assume.
I clear my throat. “I… uh… I wanted to ask you about the sleeping arrangements.”
She’s still pressing the blanket to her face, eyes shut. “What about it?”
“I mean… we don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” I say, scratching the back of my neck. “If you need time to, you know, get used to us, we can figure something else out. We don’t have to—”
