Accidentaly Divine

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Accidentaly Divine Page 16

by Dakota Cassidy


  “The animals sure seem to like you,” she commented, staying vague and focusing on Susan.

  He looked at his hands, folded neatly on the table, his eyes shy. “I like them, too.”

  Leaning on her elbow, she smiled at him. “Do you have a pet at home?”

  He shook his head, tucking his hoodie around his neck to keep Blip warm. “No,” he said softy. “I…I’m not allowed…er, not right now.”

  “So you get your fix here, huh?” she asked, forcing herself not to focus on how sad his tone had grown in order to keep things light and pressure free.

  “Yeah. But someday, I hope to be surrounded by animals.”

  She cocked her head and smiled in understanding. “Vet?”

  “Zoologist. I want to study wildlife conservation.”

  She sighed a dreamy sigh. That was an amazing ambition. “How cool! What’s your favorite zoo animal?”

  His eyes were bright and shiny when he answered. “Probably the giraffe, and a close second is elephants, for obvious reasons.”

  “So you have a little Steve Irwin in you, huh?”

  Now he nodded, more animated than she’d seen him all night, and when his face lit up it was a sight to behold. “Maybe. I’d love to go to Australia and see the zoo his kids work at now. It’s my dream.”

  “What an awesome dream. So do you have any colleges in mind?”

  He shrugged. “My first pick is the University of Hawaii. It’d be so cool to go to school and maybe learn how to surf on the side, but…”

  But he had a mother who was breaking his spirit. “That’s a long way from here.”

  He stared at her dead on and she knew what his reply would be. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

  She gathered that was the point. “You know, I’ve never been to Hawaii, but I’ve always wanted to go, too. If you get there before me, will you send me a postcard?”

  He chuckled and gave a small but still defeated smile. “Sure.” Then his phone rang, ending their conversation.

  Rising from the table, Justin quickly moved to a corner to block out the ruckus the kids and the OOPS ladies were making as they played a rousing game of Jenga.

  Dex slid into the chair beside her, his smile warm and, as always, devastatingly handsome. She found herself having to catch her breath around him these days.

  “I see Susan has deserted me for greener pastures.”

  “Am I greener pastures, sir?” she teased, watching Nina finagle another Jenga piece like a pro, making all the kids cheer in laughing protest at her game prowess.

  He chuckled. “In my book, you are. Hey, we still need to have that talk. Think we can do that when the kids go home? Maybe you could stay and help me tuck the animals in?”

  Her heart chugged in her chest. She was worried about what he wanted to discuss. “Of course I’d love to tuck the furbabies in, but can I have a preview of what that chat might be about? Is it going to make me cry? Laugh? Please say I’m going to laugh. With everything going on, like Effie and my roadblock with what kind of help she needs when she’s so ornery, I could use a win.”

  Dex winced. “I guess it depends on if you think irony is funny.”

  “Irony? Hasn’t this all been ironic? I mean, me as an angel. If that’s not irony, what is?”

  He grabbed her hand, using his thumb to smooth her skin, sending ripples of awareness along her arm. “It’s so much less ironic than you think, George. In fact, it’s not ironic at all. Your heart is huge, nothing makes for a better angel than a big heart.”

  Her cheeks flushed and her eyes fell to the tabletop, leaving her unable to say anything. Thankfully, Justin saved her from having to respond.

  He held up his phone, handing little Blip to Dex, his eyes shadowed. “I have to go.”

  Dex snuggled Blip’s tiny black and tan body in his arms, asking casually, “Everything okay?”

  He nodded his dark head, reaching for his patched jacket from the back of the shabby dining room chair and shoving his arms into it. “Everything’s fine. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Bridger?”

  Dex held out his fist to knock Justin’s. “You bet, buddy. Thanks for all your help with Hans today.” Hans being the sweet but active husky with something called megaesophagus, making it necessary for him to have to eat sitting up. And, to top it all off, diabetes.

  Nodding curtly, he began to head out. “Anytime.”

  As the front door closed behind him, George looked at Dex. “Why did that feel all wrong?”

  Follow him, a voice in her head whispered.

  Nina strode over to them and leaned down to whisper, “Because the kid’s got trouble.”

  Dex cocked his head in her direction, sitting up straight on the wobbly white chair. “Trouble? What kind?” he asked softly.

  She sat on her haunches between their chairs and nodded. “Yeah. My vampire hearing tells me somebody named Lonnie called him and told him his mother’s in some kind of fucking mess at the Rusty Red Barn.”

  “The bar?” George asked as she frowned.

  The shitty, dirty biker bar? Oh, damn. That couldn’t be good.

  Go! the voice insisted.

  She hopped up on her feet, setting Susan on the ground with one last pat to the head, her stomach a sudden knot of nerves. “Something’s wrong, Dex. I feel it. We have to follow him. Did Justin drive here?”

  “He rode his scooter over,” Gaffney offered from the coffee table, where he sat on the worn rug. “You know, the one he found in the woods and we fixed up so he’d have reliable transportation?”

  George shook her head, appalled. “It’s freezing out! He’ll catch his death on a scooter. Not to mention it’s snowing and the roads are probably dangerous. We have to go find him,” she urged, heading toward the coat rack to grab her jacket and scarf.

  In fact, she knew they had to find him. Something was wrong. Something was going to happen. Something bad. She didn’t know what. She hadn’t touched him, hadn’t had the chance to offer her hand to him in order to feel his emotions, but she didn’t really need to lay hands.

  His anguish, his intensity because of his pain was written all over his face. Justin should be preparing for his life, living, laughing with his friends, going to parties, and instead he was babysitting his drunk mother.

  It incited her to a new level of anger—one she’d never experienced before—and she wanted to help him because she understood. But first, she had to get to him. Whatever was digging a hole in her gut said as much.

  Dex turned to the group sitting at the scratched coffee table, his eyes concerned. “Is everyone okay to get home? Rides secure? Text chain in place so I know everyone’s safe?”

  Marty jumped up, smoothing her hands over her jeans and sweater before waving one at them. “We’ve got this, guys. We’ll make sure everyone gets home safely. Nina? You go with, yes?” She gave her friend that look with her eyes that said protect at all costs.

  She nodded, her silky black hair shimmering under the harsh light of the outdated overhead fan. “Got it. And dudes?” she said with a grin to the children. “Don’t think this is over—because it ain’t. I’m gonna come back and whoop your scrawny butts!” And then she laughed, and so did the kids.

  As they all headed down the wobbly, semi-rotting front stairs, desperately in need of a paint job, George took a deep breath of the cold air, trying to quell her nerves.

  “It’s just around the corner. I’ll drive,” Nina offered, popping open Marty’s big SUV. They all jumped in and the vampire gunned the car, heading toward town. Dex reached for George’s hand.

  “It’s going to be okay. Justin will be okay. We’ll make sure of it.”

  “His mother’s drunk, Dex. That’s never okay. A kid Justin’s age shouldn’t be out protecting his mother from other drunks,” she spat, her anger rising hot in her throat.

  As they rounded the corner, the white scenery flashing by, she swallowed when the neon lights of the Rusty Red Barn came into view, clinging to Dex’s hand, her palms s
weaty.

  The Rusty Red Barn was just that—a red shambling barn, falling apart in some places and surely defying gravity at this point in its life.

  It had been around since she was a kid and she knew it well. Too well. The outside was dilapidated and worn, the split rail fence that had once made a pathway to the door now broken and splintered, the parking lot gravel covered in a light dusting of snow with drifts as tall as she was.

  Motorcycles lined a small coral and two or three beat-up cars sat side by side.

  And just under the garish sign with two letters out, blinking for all it was worth, was Justin, his fingers over his nose, making her catch her breath.

  He was hurt. Someone had hit him.

  Anger swished along her nerve endings with raw, unadulterated energy, leaving her infuriated to the point of almost blind rage.

  Nina had barely pulled the car to a screeching halt before George was out the back door, unmindful of her heels or the snow as she ran toward Justin, who stormed back into the bar before she could catch him.

  Dex and Nina were at her heels, but George could only see red as she pushed open the creaky doors, the jukebox blasting, “Freebird” greeting her ears and the stench of sweat and cheap beer lodging in her nose.

  Someone had hit a child, and that would not stand. Not ever again would someone smaller, someone vulnerable and blinded by fear and loyalty be hurt on her watch.

  Never again.

  Chapter 17

  “Whoa, there, Wings.” Nina grabbed her by the arm, jerking her backward, her fingers like bands of steel. “Dial that shit back. You seen some of the dudes in here? I’m a badass bitch, but I need to scope this shit out and have a plan before we get jumpy. Calm the fuck down and let me assess.”

  She looked up at the vampire in impatient astonishment. “You can’t be serious. You, of all people, want to make a plan? What happened to all the face-eating and throat-shitting?”

  Her eyes instantly narrowed to slits in her head. Aw, heck. Tower of Terror was displeased.

  “Listen here, girlie, you be careful how far you fucking go with me, got that? I’m a tough bitch. I can take all these motherfuckers with my eyes closed, but I’m not a dumb bitch. I like knowing what I’m up against. Now shut the fuck up, locate GD Justin—with your eyes—and settle down. You got that?”

  Dex stepped between the women as the scant customers peered at them from their dark corner tables. Pushing George behind him, he looked at Nina and, as cheerful as ever, said, “Ten-four, good buddy. We have complete and total understanding.” And then he dropped a very clearly impulsive kiss on her cheek. “Thanks for being here for us, Nina. You’re the tops.”

  She swatted at him. “Get the fuck off me, weirdo, and you fucking better have complete and total motherfucking understanding,” she warned with a hiss as she turned to eyeball the ten or so customers scattered throughout the smoky bar.

  The bartender—Lonnie, she presumed, a small, reed-thin man who looked overwhelmed by the rough-and-tumble patrons—gave them a curt nod and went back to minding his own business by drying some glasses.

  The bar sprawled across the length of the space, dulled from years of neglect. Empty beer bottles lie on the floor along with some crushed peanut shells. A bowl of pretzels was tipped over, scattering them all over the surface of the bar and the cracked red stools.

  George’s heart pumped fast and furious in her chest, thumping to the beat of the tune playing on the jukebox. As she looked around at the customers, a raggedy bunch of mostly greasy unkempt men, her eyes fell on the dance floor where a woman, her long blonde hair mussed, her clothes rumpled and worn, hung limply in the arms of a man the size of two linebackers.

  He hoisted her up, pressing her hips against his as he ground against her, swaying precariously drunk to the music. His beard was scraggly, some of his teeth missing. And if they weren’t missing, they were stained yellow. His nails dirty with grease.

  His big hand palmed the near unconscious woman’s backside, hauling her to him over and over to keep her upright, as he gnawed on her neck as though she were a piece of jerky. It was clear she was barely able to stand, let alone give her consent to such a provocative dance.

  Almost the moment George spotted the man and woman on the dance floor, Justin sprang out of a dark corner and jammed his face in the man’s, grabbing for the woman with clumsy hands.

  “Let her go!” he yelled, his poor nose swollen, his eyes wild in the dim lighting.

  “Didn’t I tell you to get the fuck outta here, little man?” the guy yelled so loud, they heard him over the obnoxious music. “You want me to knock the shit outta you again? You want a fat lip to match your broken nose? Go the fuck away, pissant. It’s adult time, and your mama and me—we got some adult things to do.”

  The men in the far corner chuckled, obviously this pig’s cohorts, egging him on. “Get the little shit, Dwight!” one of them yelled with a slur to his words.

  George’s skin crawled as Justin clawed at his beefy bare arm, covered only by a thin T-shirt. “I said let her go, scumbag! She’s too drunk to know any better! Please let her go!”

  He swatted at Justin as though he were nothing more than a fly. The desperation in the boy’s tone, the pleading, rankled George—and that’s when she lost her cool.

  Her eyes narrowed and her heart rate slowed. George didn’t think, she didn’t wait for Nina to assess, she didn’t test the waters. Instead, she stomped across the sticky barroom floor, her heels clacking in her ears, and pushed Justin out of the way, surprising him and making him yelp a protest.

  But she wasn’t paying attention to Justin anymore. She had her eyes firmly planted on the filthy man. “Let the woman go,” she seethed as Nina and Dex began to approach him from behind.

  The thug let his head fall back on his shoulders, his long, straggly hair hanging halfway down his back as he laughed a gurgling, phlegmy cackle. “What’re you gonna do if I don’t, little girl?” he leered, the stench of cheap beer wafting under her nose.

  “Stop, Miss Maverick! Please don’t get involved!” Justin pleaded, grabbing at her arm.

  But all the years of her anger, all of her helpless rage had found an outlet, and it was with this man’s red, puffy face.

  Without thinking, without a single care for the number of people in the room, and without any internal warning at all, she balled her fist and jabbed at his pockmarked nose with a hard right—snapping her fist back as quickly as she shot it forward.

  His head whipped back, making him let go of Justin’s mother, who almost crumpled to the floor. But Nina was there, scooping her up and throwing her over her shoulder in time to swing around and find two men approaching her.

  George didn’t have to think twice about the vampire’s safety. These two men who would regret ever considering a woman like Nina wouldn’t be able to pulverize them.

  Dwight, no longer surprised, his nose bleeding profusely, didn’t appear to notice Nina or Dex. He grabbed for George, but she didn’t cringe away from his dirty paws in the way one would expect.

  No, she leaned into her rage, lobbing herself at him, hauling herself up on his body and wrapping an arm around his neck to take another swing at his head, ramming her fist into his temple over and over, screaming, “Are you deaf, Simpleton? He said let his mother go! Did you hear that, Dwight? When someone says let go, you damn well let go!”

  Dwight howled when her ring caught his skin only seconds before Dex yanked her away, setting her behind him as Dwight ran straight toward them.

  Dex stopped him with one blow to the stomach, making Dwight fall to the floor with an agonizing crack of flesh against sticky wood.

  Everyone else scattered like cockroaches under the beam of a flashlight, hitting the doors with a scurry of feet, the cold air whispering across her face as they ran out the door.

  Somewhere along the way, Nina had set Justin’s mother down in a booth and latched on to Dwight’s friends, grabbing them by the hair on their head.
She dragged them to the door, dropping them like squirming, squealing sacks of potatoes.

  Then she knelt down and hissed, “You two little motherfuckers better take your asses on outta here, or I’m gonna wipe one end of this bar to the other with you greasy, weak fucks. You hear me?” Then she flashed her fangs at them.

  Both of the men bolted upright and crab-walked backward with terrified eyes and heaving chests. “Stay the fuck away from me, lady!” one creep yelled, stumbling and tripping to rise and push his way out the door, followed quickly by his equally foul friend.

  Nina rose and strolled toward them, but George’s attention had returned to a writhing, whining Dwight.

  She nudged him with her toe, watching his rounded belly jiggle with distaste before stooping and eyeing him with contempt. “You disgusting pig. I hope you rot in jail for the rest of your filthy life!”

  Nina grabbed her under her arms and whispered in her ear, “You. Go fucking angel the kid and his mother. Let us take care of this fucknob.”

  When George struggled, Nina tightened her grip. “Knock it off, Wings, and settle the fuck down. You got it? This isn’t how the kid should see you. Take your baggage off the frickin’ carousel and put it on the shelf for now. The bigger picture is the kid and his mother.”

  George immediately stopped struggling because she knew exactly what Nina meant. She was letting her past interfere with the present, and that wouldn’t be good for business or for sweet Justin.

  Still, she wanted to see this man dead, and that probably wasn’t terribly angelic but it was her truth in this moment. She wanted to kick him and shame him and see him writhe in agony.

  Dex brushed her hair from her face, his eyes warm. “I called the police and they’re on their way with an ambulance. She’s pretty wasted. She needs medical attention,” he said with a grimace. “It’s going to be okay, George. Let this part of it go and do what you were meant to do.”

  His words permeated her jumbled, angry thoughts. Relaxing against Nina, she nodded, blowing out a cleansing breath. “You’re right. I’m okay now. Promise. Please let me go to them.”

 

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