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Chapter Forty-Six
Lena
“Thank you,” I whispered into Jackson’s ear, leaning my head on his shoulder. I didn’t know if he smiled or not. It didn’t matter. I sat between him and Brodie in the veterinary emergency waiting room. They were operating on Rufus. Poor sweet, brave Rufus had lost so much blood; the doctor didn’t seem too hopeful about the outcome and warned us to be prepared for the worst. Jackson turned into me and buried his face against my shoulder. I held onto him, unable to contain my tears as I closed my eyes, praying silently that Rufus would make it.
I don’t know how long we waited. It felt like hours, but every time Jackson asked Brodie what time it was, each time, only about ten minutes had passed.
Brodie’s phone rang, and he got up, speaking into it as he walked a little bit away. Jackson stayed with me, his elbows resting on his knees, his face in his hands. I had my arm around his back, and I rubbed my hand gently up and down. I figured it was the police on the phone. I dreaded to hear what they were saying.
I had just killed Troy. I really killed him this time.
Brodie had called the police on our way to the vet’s, telling them what happened. Neither Jackson nor I could utter a word, our thoughts on Rufus the entire ride.
A few minutes later, Brodie came back. “The cops located Troy’s body. They’re going to want to talk to all of us.”
Jackson nodded and wiped his face with the palms of his hands.
“They know it was self-defense. It’ll be okay.” Brodie sat back down beside me. “Brad Grayson is a friend of ours and was a good friend of our uncle’s. He’s leading the investigation. He said he’d wait until after we get Rufus home before he comes over.”
“If we take him home,” Jackson said quietly.
* * *
“The bullet wentinto his right hip,” Jackson explained to Derrick, who’d been tending to the bar almost exclusively by himself while Brodie and Jackson spent most of their time with Rufus at the veterinary hospital, and then a couple of days at home. Even though Rufus was, by all accounts, Jackson’s dog, Brodie loved him just as much.
Rufus lay on a thick burly blanket in the corner of the room, gnawing on the largest rawhide bone I’d ever seen. His leg and hip remained bandaged, and he would need to stay off it for a few days, which meant he needed to be carried everywhere.
Brodie rigged up this cute little transport using some old wagon wheels and a rug-covered board he’d found in the shed to help during potty times. The doctor sounded very positive that Rufus would gain full use of his leg in no time. I couldn’t have been more relieved. To think that I had anything to do with harming such a wonderful dog sickened me. It sickened me to know what a monster I had been married to.
Jackson put his arm around me and pulled me against him, almost as if he sensed my thoughts. He stopped hiding his affections for me from Brodie, not that he’d managed to do that in the first place. Brodie always knew.
The comforting feel of Jackson’s body against mine soothed me. I would never have made it through the past couple of nights if Jackson hadn’t spent the nights sleeping next to me. I’d woken up three separate times struggling to catch my breath. The vision of Troy’s face as his words taunted me.
She belongs to me. That demanding statement was Troy’s last words before I’d killed him. Right after I’d stopped Jackson from doing the deed. I’m glad, though. I didn’t want Jackson to carry that guilt around for the rest of his life—the guilt of killing another human being—even if it was to stop him from killing someone else.
The door to the bar opened, letting in a path of brightness and warmth from the sun, which was also blinding, making it difficult to see who was entering until the door closed tight again.
“Lena?”
I turned to see Gabby, my good friend from the band who’d apparently seen me at the parade and had unintentionally revealed my whereabouts.
