Page 24 of Chelsea’s Knight

Every one of the new babies has their own pink Buc-ee’s onesie while the older kids have size-appropriate T-shirts. Apparently, the beaver is the company’s mascot, and they’ve got some of the cutest things I’ve ever seen. I even have my own throw which Canyon bought me because of my love of naps!

Then there were the snacks; beef jerky in a gazillion different flavors, a bakery with kolaches which are my new favorite thing ever, saltwater taffy. Two whole walls just of old-fashioned and popular candies, plus a wall of varying flavors of slushie drinks and I can honestly say, I went a bit overboard.

Best of all, we got pulled-pork sandwiches with the most succulent barbecue sauce slathered on the meat for lunch instead of some shitty fast food, so my tummy is beyond happy.

But Canyon further endeared himself to me when we were leaving, and I saw the beaver statue outside the door. He immediately stopped, put our numerous bags down at his feet and pulled out his phone, saying, “Go ahead, sweetness, let’s get your picture with Buc-ee.”

As I giggled and struck several poses, some playful and some serious, a young teenage boy walked up and asked, “Hey, mister, do you want me to take a few of the two of y’all?”

Without missing a beat, Canyon handed him his phone and walked over to me, wrapping his arms around me, and pulling me into his side where he tucked me into the pocket of his underarm. Feeling the warmth and security of his arms had me relaxing further as I flirtingly smiled up at him.

No clue how many pictures the kid ended up taking, but before we left, Canyon walked off to talk to him and I saw him slip the kid some money.

As we park in front of a long, aluminum building, I see a man come through the door with a woman curled into his side. “That’s Nick and his old lady, Shayla,” Canyon tells me as he shuts the truck off and opens his door. When I go to open mine, he spears me with a look while shaking his head. “I’ve got you, sweetness.”

Once I’m out of the truck, he tucks my hand in his and we approach the couple. I notice the man has what I consider the stereotypical smirk on his face after watching Canyon get out, come to the passenger side, then he held out his hand and helped me out of the truck.

Canyon’s hand is already out, and he states, “You’d have done the same thing, brother, I can tell just by looking at you.”

The woman giggles and shyly replies, “You’d be one-hundred percent correct.” Turning to me, she says, “I’m Shayla, this one’s wife and old lady. I know you’ll be busy and all, but hopefully, we can get to know each other a little better while you’re here.”

“Chelsea, and I’d love that. Actually, I can’t wait to see all the fur babies,” I exclaim. “I love animals and wish I could’ve had pets when I was younger, but they always ran away.” At Canyon’s look, I continue. “When I still lived with my dad and stepmother.”

Now his face has a glower on it, and it dawns on me that maybe, just maybe, the kittens and puppies I’d been given over the yearshadn’trun away.

“Archie probably hurt them,” I whisper, suddenly sick to my stomach. “I-I-I’m sorry, I think I’m going to throw up.”

Canyon doesn’t miss a beat; he scoops me up and runs to the building which really isn’t too far. Shouldering the door open without putting me down, he rushes in and quickly finds the bathroom. I have no clue how I manage to hold off until I’m kneeling over the toilet, but once I’m there, with his hand cupping my neck since my hair’s still too short to worry about, I let loose as memories of the sweet furry faces assault me.

“Shh, it’s okay, babe. It was a long time ago and you couldn’t have known he would do something like that.” His other hand is moving in slow, soothing circles on my back as I continue heaving.

“S-s-should’ve suspected,” I manage to finally mumble out once I’m sure I’m done tossing my cookies. “They always ‘got out’ whenever I wasn’t home, but he was.”

“You were a little girl, sweetheart. C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up and go see what Nick’s got up his sleeve for you.”

I stand so quickly I nearly knock Canyon on his ass.

“No. There’s no way I should take on the responsibility of one of their dogs, Canyon. Not with my stepbrother doing something so horrific and heinous. I don’t deserve it.”

Before Canyon can protest, I hear Nick’s voice outside the bathroom door. “There is no way you’renottaking one of our dogs, Chelsea. Your reaction right now shows me at least just how deeply attached you will become to your therapy dog. He or she will be an extension of you, so this is important.”

While I mull over what Nick is saying, Canyon gently cleans my face, wiping away the tears that are now free-falling down the sides of my face. “C’mon, sweetness, let’s go out and talk to the man. We’ve driven a long way and this dog is going to give you so much more independence than you already have.”

“Still doesn’t feel right. Especially when I think about what likely happened.”

Canyon gets a grin on his face that I can’t decipher. When I look at him, he merely states, “Might be worth it to put a bug in the prison warden’s ear because shit like that is textbook serial killer behavior.”

“I guess I don’t understand why animals are always the first victims. They’re defenseless and never hurt anyone,” I harrumph.

“And that’s exactly why,” he explains. “They don’t want to fight anything or anyone they can’t overpower. They’re cowards, Chels. Plain and simple.”

“Makes sense, I guess, but jeez, it means Archie is an even bigger piece of shit than I thought he was,” I rebut.

“Chels, he tried to kill you, that puts him at the top of the fucking heap as far as I’m concerned.”

He leads me out of the bathroom once I’ve washed my hands for the third time and we come face to face with Nick.

“Your stepbrother tried to kill you? Where’s the motherfucker now?” Nick growls out.

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