Page 26 of Coiled Tight
And shit had gone down.
And everyone had turned on me, because when their discourse had turned ableist, to say the least, I’d lashed out and defended the man who almost ended their livelihood. All because I was nothing if not loyal to the ones I deemed my friends—and because the kind of shit they’d said made me retch to this day.
“You. Are. Not.” He punctuated each word with a push to my chest. “Roy had shit to work through, and he was anirresponsible piece of shit for draggin’ that here with vulnerable animals and people makin’ a living, and takin’ advantage of that bleedin’ heart of yours, boss.”
“Right.”
Dwight huffed. “So what’s the deal with the vet? Because he looks like he’s ready to eat you up every time you’re not lookin’.”
He definitely didn’t. Did he?
It was hard with Dwight. The man thought that sex or thoughts about sex were the one true way to cheer up people.
Not that it mattered anyway. “Well, we’ll be lucky if he lasts the week.”
“Shit.” At least the attitude was gone from his face—not that I preferred the ghostly pallor. “Why? You fought? He’s not happy with the work? Burnin’ out? I tried to tell him he needed to take it easy, but I think I spooked him, so I’ve been keepin’ my distance.”
He probably had, but I snorted, wishing that was the issue. “It’s complicated.”
“So tell me about it.”
“Afraid I can’t.”
Under no circumstances would I tell Dwight about the diapers, or the age play that came with it, or why I even knew what any of those words meant. That was a Pandora’s Box that would stay closed for as long as I managed to keep it shut.
Indefinitely, if I had my way.
Dwight grunted. “Is this your usualI’m blamin’ myself for everythin’, or somethin’ else?”
“The latter. And stop mimicking my voice. It’s creepy.”
“Whatever.” Dwight huffed. “You’re just mad I’m good at it.”
“You really aren’t.”
He hadn’t changed my mind on shit, either, but maybethat hadn’t been the point. I felt somewhat better, with less pressure threatening to cave in my chest.
ten
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Istepped into the house about an hour later. It had been only fair that I had some quality time with the horses after I’d weirded them out the way I had.
The sky had only stars by the time I pulled up to the side of the house where the other truck was parked. The sight of it had me breathing out in relief. Cam had mentioned borrowing the truck to leave. There was still the chance that he would’ve stubbornly gone on foot, but someone would’ve seen him and rung the alarm. He didn’t look like the type to grab something without express permission either.
Even with that feeble guarantee, I still could’ve keeled over with relief when I walked in and the first thing that hit me was the warm smell of something cooking. I almost forgot to leave my shit by the entrance before I was heading toward the source of it. I didn’t even care about my stomach grumbling. I just needed to see for myself that I hadn’t completely ruined shit once again.
Cam was there, on the flesh, stirring something that smelled hot as fuck inside the biggest pot I owned. Sure, there was a tremor to his body that meant he was on edge andprobably very aware that I was standing there, but he was here, so that meant there was some hope that I hadn’t just ruined the hopes of the sanctuary having a good vet for the big animals once and for all.
“Hey.” I cleared my throat. “That smells good.”
“I stress cook chili when I’m anxious,” he rushed the words out. “Comfort food.“
Okay.
Okay, stilted sentences, but I could work with it.
“It smells great.”
