Page 2 of DOG Part 2
2
Kim
The restof the ride was quiet. I was ashamed over the way I had misjudged Kane, and silently stayed busy formulating an apology. Saying sorry was not something I was good at. I was way better at clinging to my pride, so this needed effort. We drove for another hour or so, twisting and turning through numerous back roads, and finally when the Jeep stopped we were at an old ranch house. A wooden fence ran in front of it, and behind it were several barns. I looked out behind the property. It sat nestled between two small peaks.
Kane got out to open the gate, which had a ‘No Trespassing’ sign on it, and then he got back in and drove the vehicle around the side of the house to park it in the backyard. There were no other cars, and no signs of livestock or farming activity.
“Does anyone live here?” I asked as we climbed out of the car.
He grabbed the groceries while I took my bag out of the back seat. “No. An old army friend of mine owns it. He’s planning on fixing it up at some point, but until then it’s empty.”
“Will your clubhouse friends be able to find us here?”
“No one will find us here.”
I bit my lip. “So they won’t know we’re all right?”
He shook his head and gazed at me. I turned quickly away, afraid he was actually able to read my thoughts. I hadn’t even wanted to speak to my father when he’d called the other day, but that didn’t mean I wanted him to go through the agony of not knowing whether or not I was alive.
“Don’t you have a burner phone or anything?” I pressed.
“I do, but it’s best to wait. My VP will get in touch with me when it’s safe.”
I paused, processing what he had said. “In case you phone him and an Arroyos Bandidos answers the call.”
“See, I knew you’d figure it out. Maybe you should consider sticking around the club.”
“Thanks but no thanks.”
“Why not?”
“I like myself enough to never let myself be relegated to a clubhouse mattress bitch, muffler bunny, clubhouse ho or whatever you’re calling them these days.”
“You’re the daughter of the past President. No one would ever call you that or treat you that way.”
“I’d just as soon not find out.”
Shaking his head, Kane balanced the grocery bags in one arm and retrieved a key from underneath a cracked flower pot. He unlocked the door and I followed him inside the dark, massive open space. There was a large fireplace straight ahead, and a simple kitchen with just a stove, countertop and sink at the far side of the room. The place was only visible because of the faint light streaming in from behind us. Some blankets and sleeping bags were rolled up on a cot in the middle of the room, and I made out a couple of cardboard boxes stacked against a wall. Other than that, it was empty. And dusty. And full of cobwebs. Oh God, was that a mouse that just ran across the corner of the room?
Fuck my life.
“You got a kerosene lamp back when we stopped for gas, right?”
Kane turned to me, using the waning ambient light from outside to check the grocery bags.
“Yes. Shit. Sorry, I didn’t get any kerosene. That was pretty stupid of me.”
“We’ve got some around here somewhere.” He walked over to the cot and set the bags down to check the boxes in the corner. “It’s not in here. I’ll check the barn.”
He was gone and back in less than ten minutes. Standing next to a grimy window, he filled the lamp with kerosene and had it lit up shortly afterward. He stood there for a moment, his back turned to me, his face hidden as he looked out the window. It was impossible to tell why he was pensive all of a sudden, but the moment of silence felt like the perfect opportunity.
“I need to apologize about something,” I told him.
He turned around to look at me, the light from the lamp striking his jaw in a way that made my heart rate double.
“I misjudged you. You saved my life twice today and I shouldn’t have given you such a hard time before. I’m sorry…and thank you.”
He nodded sharply, and I expected him to say something dismissive such as ‘Just doing my job’.
