Page 47 of Shooter (Burnout 1)


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The phone rang twice. Tex picked up on the second ring. “Did you finally decide you’re being a bastard and are gonna come join us?” he asked.

Hayley dabbed her tongue along her damaged bottom lip. “Tex?” she said quietly into the phone.

There was a moment of silence before he replied. “Slick? Why are calling me from Shooter’s phone? Where is he?”

“We’re at his house,” she replied. “Um…he’s on the floor. I can’t get him up.”

Tex cursed. “Okay, darlin’. No worries. We’re on our way. Just…just stay with him until we get there, okay honey?”

She nodded even though Tex couldn’t see it. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be here.”

“Good girl,” he replied and disconnected.

For some reason Hayley quickly got up and grabbed the empty bottle and the shards of a glass from the table in the living room. She tossed the bottle and the pieces of glass into the recylcing bin. It was obvious that Chris was drunk, but she didn’t want his men to see the evidence of it. Back at his side, she realized his pants were wet. She pressed her fingers to the dark spot and sniffed. He’d apparently dumped some of the bourbon onto himself. Which, she supposed, was marginally better than other scenarios running through her head. She crawled up next to him and lifted his head, placing it in her lap.

She’d never seen Chris get anywhere near close to drunk. Not even on Poker Night. He appeared to be a pretty conservative drinker to her eyes. She’d gotten drunk more often in the time that she’d known him. She wondered what had caused him to get blitzed tonight. Tex had said he was being a bastard, but that didn’t sound like the Chris that she knew.

She ran her fingers through his hair and looked down at him, unable to come up with an explanation on her own. She heard the boys pull up and was simultaneously happy they were here and cautious about it. She could hide the bottle, but not her lip, and she didn’t want them to think anything bad had happened even though she was in Chris’s house uninvited. Tex was the first one through the door, followed by Caleb, then Hawk.

Tex stopped, looming above them. “Christ,” he muttered, taking in the scene. “Dumb bastard.” He held out a hand to Hayley. “Alright, calvary’s here. Up you go, darlin’ ” He pulled her up and his face darkened as he caught sight of her injured lip. He said nothing, though, as he turned to Hawk. “Grab his feet, I’ll get his arms.” Tex and Hawk picked up Chris and carried him into the Master bedroom. Hayley and Caleb followed.

They tossed Chris onto the bed and Caleb turned on the bedroom light. He took Hayley’s face in his hands. “Look up,” he commanded, inspecting her face. “What happened?” Caleb asked.

Hayley swallowed convulsively. “Nothing. It was an accident. I fell and-”

Caleb’s eyes narrowed at her. “Slick, you don’t have to lie for him. You don’t need to protect him. Not from us. When he wakes up and sees this, he’s gonna kick his own ass so hard we won’t be needed. What happened?”

“I came up behind him. He hit me with his elbow. But it was an accident! He didn’t even know I was in the house! I heard some glass breaking and I came to see if he was okay.”

“Dumb bastard,” Tex repeated.

Caleb let go of Hayley’s face. “What…what’s wrong with him?” she asked. “I mean…why?”

Caleb sighed. “It was a year ago today.”

Hayley didn’t need much more than just a few seconds to realize what Caleb was saying. “Oh,” she replied weakly. “Oh God,” she whispered, casting a sympathetic eye to Chris who lay passed out in his bed.

“We were all going to go out together,” Hawk told her. “But he didn’t want to go. Wanted to be alone,” he said derisively. “Not a good idea,” he declared, eyeing Chris with something far less than sympathy.

“And your Jimmy?” Hayley asked.

Hawk shook his head. “Wouldn’t come with us today. Mad at the world, us in particular, and made the L.T. feel even worse, if such a thing is possible.”

Hayley walked to the foot of the bed. “He shouldn’t have his dirty boots on. He wouldn’t like that,” she announced, taking hold of one and pulling it off. “Plus, he spilled bourbon all over his pants.”

“I was hoping he hadn’t pissed himself,” Hawk told her.

She grimaced at his words and pulled the other boot off. She peeled off his socks and tossed them aside. Then she moved to the side of the bed and with only a slight nervous shake of her hands, unbuckled his belt. “I should clean up,” she said to no one in particular. “He won’t like waking up to a mess. He would hate that.” Steeling herself to help Chris, she managed to pull off his jeans and slide the belt out of the loops. “Can you put him on his side?” she asked the guys. “In case… in case he gets sick?”

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