Mercenary Wolf

Ch 12 a drunk night

I sat there after they left, just sat there. I think I was still in shock. My brain refused to function. My body couldn't move.

Finally Eddie approached me. If it woulda been anyone else maybe I would have reacted different. Suddenly my brain was working again and it was focusing on my little missing bottle of Jack!

I cut off whatever it was he was saying, something about concern, more about me telling them what was going on.

"Stay here. Anyone leaves they're off the crew. Be right back."

I know I needed them there. I didn't dare be alone. I don't remember, barely remember, getting in the truck. I know I pulled over a few times heaving up that glass of water and just spittle 'cause there weren't nothing else in me.

Then I was standing in front of the vodka, one bottle in my hand. I remember thinking if I kept throwing up, I was gonna need a second  bottle. And one for when reality hit. I don't remember going in or actually buying 'em.

I got back, still don't remember how or walking in the door. I do remember setting the three bottles carefully on the floor in front of me. One of the guys knocked one over? Tried to take 'em? I ain't sure. I remember holding one to my chest and yelling at them to leave me alone cause I couldn't hit them.

I had that much presence of mind that I didn't dare use my fists, not on my crew!

I sat for the longest while, hugging the bottle, not thinking. All that and I hadn't even had a sip yet.

Then Eddie was in front of me, reassuring me he wasn't gonna take it. I was conscious of breathing then. I pulled out my keys, handed them to him. Eddie I could trust without even thinking about it.

It was the med key, not the truck key, I held up.

"Better the devil I know," I remember telling him. "I can't, dare not start down that road. I can't. Be screwed if I do. But I gotta..."

And I opened the first bottle then.

The dad, Black Wolf, had said think about it. I was really gonna try. I was armed now to try. I was also right, I bet most of that first bottle went right down the commode as I leaned over it.

Second bottle I was processing. Thinking even. I could manage the word werewolf. I could not get that red tip outta my mind. I know I was scarred for life with that image of a half-shifted werewolf letting his jeans fall.

I pulled my mind away. Tried to focus on the task at hand. What was the question? Could I lead my guys? Risk my guys? I tried picturing me leading my guys into where Jimbo was keeping us from.

I was kinda proud of myself, didn't throw up near as often that bottle.

There was something about Derrick. He had moved on the couch across from me, dozing off. I swished around what was left of the second bottle.

"Start 'em up," I slurred as I pushed him with my foot.

"Huh?"

"The stories. Start 'em up!"

I remember thinking he was dense. Bad of me, he's a decent kid, took our abuse and learned from it. He was one of the crew now. My crew. My guys. I loved 'em!

The stories started. She had such a gentle voice, filled with humor, filled with love. I was only taking small sips while listening. There were pictures.

"Pause the screen."

Derrick did so.

Damn, how could she put it out there? A huge black wolf, carrying a black pup in his mouth by its scruff. The pup didn't look too happy. Another photo, a black wolf and a grey wolf, both laughing. Another, the lighter wolf with its arms, paws around the kid. Family photos. I was looking at damn family photos!

I puked again. Crouching there, over the commode, holding what was left of the second bottle, all I could think about was how obvious the love in that family was. It was the kind of family I fought to preserve. To hell with the fact they were damn wolves!

Black Wolf said he'd fought and killed a rapist. The wolf protected its own!

That gentle-voiced she-wolf adored her mate. You could hear the fondness she had for him, the understanding as she explained her husband to the kid. She got him. She loved him. She loved them both.

And he had to live with the fact he hadn't saved her, had failed to protect her. I don't know how he lived with it, but it explained the murder in his eyes. He'd killed twice. That cougar hadn't stood a chance. 

I went back in, told Derrick to keep 'em playing. She'd had such a beautiful voice. I know I opened the third bottle while listening, but it didn't feel right. She wouldn't approve. These were kids' stories. I shouldn't be drinking in front of the kiddies. I set the third bottle down.

The stories were cute, I even laughed over some of the pictures. That black wolf crawling through the garbage to pull the kid outta the mess he'd made. The kid dancin' with rabbits. The three of them looking out on beautiful vistas.

Her voice lulled me into what I can only describe as a peaceful sleep.