In this week's episode of Rose and Thorne, the boys meet their match in a little Pekingese who has ideas of his own! And then, in Moving Forward, Marshall has to tell Lee what happened to him in the men's room. I think it's safe to say Lee will not be happy. What will he do about it? Read this week's chapter and see! Don't forget to see what the other Briefers are up to. Their links follow my tales! Enjoy!
“Vinnie, maybe you should let me—”
Let him nothing. My gun, my problem. I shook my head. My eyes
on the prize, I slowly and deliberately inched my hand toward my weapon. The
dog not only didn’t try to stop me, he seemed to have lost interest in both of us,
darting away just as I wrapped my hand securely about the stock. Ah, the sweet
smell of success.
Well, that was easier than I expected—
Hey, what the hell? Did that mangy mutt just grab my purse
and run off with it?
“Dude, did you see that?”
“I’m right here, Ethan, and I’m not blind.”
He looked at me and then in the direction the dog had taken
off in, as if debating what proper etiquette was. Should he help his injured,
grumbling boyfriend off the ground, or should he hightail it after the pooch
who now possessed my handcuffs, among other things?
My boy’s smart. He made the right decision and took off
running through the park, chasing after the canine thief. “Wait here,” he
called over his shoulder.
I leapt to my feet as quickly as I could manage. I sure as
hell wasn’t about to just sit there and do nothing, and I sure as hell wasn’t
going to not go running after Ethan, no matter what he thought. He and I were a
team. We did everything together. On or off the clock. Big capers or small. He
was my everything, and I was his. That was an easy decision to make.
Tucking my gun back inside my waistband, I lit out in the
direction Ethan had taken. I kept my ears trained for the sound of the dog’s
high-pitched yips before I realized it couldn’t very well bark with my purse
stuffed in its mouth. So I concentrated on the sounds of rustling bushes, and
the occasional “Excuse me,” no doubt directed at park patrons with the
misfortune to find themselves in Ethan’s way.
An indignant yelp told me Ethan had both the pup and the
purse well in hand. I caught up with them near a large stone fountain in the
middle of the park. Ethan and the dog were both dripping wet. Ethan held my purse triumphantly over his
head, as he gave me a big shit-eating grin. The dog sat meekly at Ethan’s feet.
He yipped at me as I drew close. The next moment he shook himself and sneezed, managing
to shower me in the process, earning laughter from Ethan.
“What’s so funny?” I huffed.
“Us. This. Everything.” He shrugged and handed me my bag. It
wasn’t too terribly soaked, but my first thought was for my cell, which I’d
forgotten was in there too. I unzipped the bag and pulled it out. It didn’t
seem to be any the worse for wear, thank goodness, since I didn’t carry a
supply of rice with me in case I had to dry it out.
“What do we do with him?” Ethan jerked a thumb toward the
dog, who now lay at my feet, tail wagging.
“Call the owner?” I suggested. “He is wearing a collar. Check his tag for a phone number.”
Ethan grumbled, but he dropped to his knees, keeping a wary
eye on the dog. “You should probably do this, you know? I think he likes you
better.”
“Doesn’t everyone? You’re down there, just read the damn
tag.”
“Gosh, you’re so mean, Vinnie. Good boy, just stay calm, let
me see what’s on your tag… You ready, Vin?” As he recited the numbers, I
punched them into my phone. From the area code, I knew it was a local call.
We’d talk to the owner, get an address, find it on GPS, and drop the Peke at
home, good deed for the day done. Besides bagging the mugger who had terrified
this city for the past several months. All in all, a good day’s work. I was
more than ready for it to be over.
Except there was no answer. After six rings, it went to
voicemail where a surly voice snarled, “Leave a number” and nothing more. “Read me the numbers again, willya?” Afraid
I’d somehow hit the wrong button, I listened intently, and made sure to punch
them in exactly as Ethan recited them. All I was rewarded with was the same
miserable canned voice. I hung up without leaving a message. That voice didn’t
exactly engender the warm and fuzzies.
“Now what? Should we take him by the station, let them deal
with him?” Ethan asked.
“It’s a police station, not a dog pound. Besides, he has a
home. That wouldn’t be fair to him to lock him up, like he did something
wrong.”
“He did do something wrong,” Ethan pointed out. “He stole
your purse.”
I knelt, albeit painfully, beside the two of them, bits of
loose pavement digging into my knees, and began to stroke the Peke’s soft, damp
fur. He wagged his tail and looked up at
me with hopeful eyes. “Looks like we don’t have much of a choice if we can’t
reach his owner.”
“Vinnie, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“Well, it’s not my first choice either, Ethan, but I don’t
know what else to do. We can fix him up space in one of the drawers. He’s
little. He’ll probably like that. In the morning, we’ll get hold of his owner
and then we can take him home on our way in to the station.”
“Yeah, okay,” Ethan gave in, as I knew he would. “You can
carry him, since I’m driving.”
“Who says you’re driving?”I argued, even as I scooped up the
unresisting pup. I tucked him into the crook of one arm, well away from the
purse I’d slung over my other shoulder.
“Because I’m the husband and you’re the wife, and that’s how
it works.” He winked at me.
Some days I just want to belt him.
To be continued
Moving Forward #4 (1.4)
A hubbub of voices began, with the blond stranger in the
thick of it. He raised his hand for attention, and slowly the furor died away.
“Pleased to meet y’all, but there’s something we need to
take care of first.” He pointed toward Marshall, who leaned against Lee. Lee’s
arm was wound protectively about his shoulder. “This man… this friend of yours…
was just assaulted. In the bathroom. By some asshole who apparently doesn’t
know how to take no for an answer. I think he needs to learn the meaning of the
word. What do y’all think?”
All heads swiveled toward Marshall. Roy was on his feet in a
second, and Marshall knew he was angry. Lee drew back enough to look into
Marshall’s eyes. Marshall could see, as well as feel, how upset Lee was. Marshall
was pissed at Denver’s cousin for telling everyone like that. He’d wanted to do
it in his own way. A little more privately.
“Marshall, what did
happen? Please tell me.”
Looked like he wasn’t going to get that privacy after all.
To hell with it. He did nothing wrong, and he wasn’t going to act like a scared
rabbit. He took a deep breath and began.
“This guy I danced with earlier, I guess he was mad ‘cause I wouldn’t dance
with him again. He happened to come in the bathroom when I was there and he thought
he’d teach me a lesson. We started fighting… It might have ended worse than it did if
he”—with a nod toward Denver’s cousin—“hadn’t been there. He threatened to tell the owner if the guy
didn’t leave, so he skedaddled.”
Marshall cast his eyes to the floor. He was angry at what
had happened, angry with the man who’d hurt him, but he was also angry with
himself for being so weak, for not handling himself very well. Lee tilted his
head back, their eyes meeting. Marshall
knew without asking Lee wasn’t about to let the matter rest there. He was going
into protective lover mode, and God help the man if Lee found him.
A small part of Marshall wanted Lee to do just that.
Lee looked from Marshall to Dustin. “Think you’d recognize
him if you saw him again?”
Dustin nodded. “No doubt about it.”
“Would you look around, see if he’s even still here. Do it quietly, without drawing attention to
yourself and if you spot him, come tell me?”
“You got it.” Dustin quickly disappeared in the crowd
between them and the bar.
“Goddamn, Lee,” Slim said. “Marshall, you okay? Just
Goddamn…”
Voices broke around Marshall, like waves against the rocks,
pounding at him. He tried to pay attention, but his focus was on Lee.
“I’m fine,” he kept saying. If he said it often enough,
maybe it’d be true.
“Will you go back in the men’s room with me so I can get a
better look at you?” Lee asked. Marshall nodded. Lee squeezed his hand, pushed
back his chair and waited for Marshall to rise.
“We’ll be back in a minute. Tell Dustin that if he gets back before we
do, willya?”
“Sure thing, Lee.” “You got it.” “Yep.” The guys answered in
unison. Lee took Marshall’s elbow in his hand and guided him back to the men’s
room.
Men were flowing in and out. Marshall kept a wary eye on
them, but none was the one. Lee positioned Marshall under the best light he
could find and looked him over carefully. “You have some minor scrapes, nothing
serious. I think that cheek might bruise. When we get home, I’ll put some ice
on it. Where else did he get you?”
“He yanked on my hair, probably tore some out.”
“Show me.”
Marshall bent his head, putting his hand on the spot. Lee
moved the hair around. Marshall sucked in a quick breath. His scalp was sore
where the guy had pulled out his hair. Lee lightly prodded the spot then lifted
Marshall’s head back into place. “Nothing permanent, I think. Anywhere else?”
“Just knocked the wind out of me.”
“Tell me what he said to you, Marshall.” Lee’s voice was
calm, but Marshall could feel the anger beneath his words. He would have rather
not said, but he wasn’t about to lie, either.
“He called me a whore. Told me he was going to teach me how
to treat men right. Called you my pimp.”
“He did, did he? Just because you wouldn’t dance with him a
second time?”
“Yep. Just because.”
The door to the men’s room opened. Marshall tensed until he
realized it was Roy.
“I just came to check on you two. If you want me to go, I
will,” Roy began, “but I was worried.”
Lee looked to Marshall.
“It’s okay, Roy, you can stay.”
Roy moved back to let another man leave then joined them as
they moved to a corner, out of the way.
“I think he’s mostly gonna be bruised, a few cuts, but
nothing too serious, luckily,” Lee said.
“That’s good to know. That Dustin came back to the table. He
said to tell you he can point the guy out.”
“Well all right, then.” Lee took a deep shuddering breath
and looked at Marshall. “Much as I might like to, I’m not going to ask you to
sit this out. It’s your fight more than ours, and you’re a grown man. Just know
I will have your back. Never doubt that.”
“I never have, Lee.” Marshall felt heartened at Lee’s words.
“I do too,” Roy chimed in.
“Roy, I wouldn’t ask you to get involved, you being a
sheriff and all,” Lee began, but Roy shook his head.
“You’re not asking me, Lee. I’m not doing this as a sheriff.
I’m doing this as someone who loves Marshall too.”
The men exchanged understanding glances. Lee nodded. “Much
appreciated.” He turned to Marshall. “You ready to face him, then?”
Marshall nodded
grimly. “Yep, I am. Let’s do this thing.”
to be continued
Now go see what's going on with the other Briefers!
No comments:
Post a Comment