One
The yowling and screaming under my window made me bolt upright in bed, flinging the comforter back to grab the red baseball bat I kept in my closet before running outside. It was hard to see in the dark, but after scoping out the front of the property, I saw a pair of eyes glowing at me. Walking up cautiously, I heard a painful cry. It was a cat, and it looked like it had been attacked.
“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” I cooed. “I’m not going to hurt you, sweetie, I just want to help.” The pitiful thing hissed, eyes glazed over in pain. Kneeling down near the cat, I started looking for obvious injuries. I stayed far enough away from its teeth and claws that it couldn’t inadvertently hurt me while trying to protect itself from further injury.
“God damn it, Jiji, don’t move. I’ve got my gun drawn; I’m going to shoot.” I heard two shots then a yelp behind me. In a heartbeat a half-naked man was in my face yelling at me. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me? A baseball bat! What the hell did you think you were going to do with that against a coyote looking for its next meal? He hauled me up against his strong body. “YOU NEED A KEEPER!” he roared in my face.
I looked around, seeing a bigger lump on the ground about ten feet directly behind me. Freezing, I swung my head back to Breech when he started running his hands over my body. “Breech, what the fuck are you doing?”
“Looking to see if he hurt you,” he said.
I shoved against his chest. “Damn it, Breech, cut that shit out and stop pawing at me. I’m fine; that thing was nowhere near me. I don’t know who the hell you think you are, buddy, but I don’t need you or anyone else telling me what to do. Fucking let go before I use this bat on your head.”
He released me, sticking the gun in the small of his back; his jeans were zipped, but unbuttoned. I couldn’t help peeking at all that skin, but quickly turned away when I heard the cat’s pained cry. “Breech, please, can you bring me a blanket or a towel? I need to try to move it inside so I can see the damage.”
“Jiji, that’s not a good idea, it could hurt you—it’s frightened and in pain.”
“Breech, I’m a vet tech, this is what I do. I’m not leaving it here. If you don’t want to help me then get the hell out of my way.”
He sighed but turned towards the house. “Keep your head on a swivel—there may be more of them out there looking for dinner.”
Shivering, I hunched my shoulders and immediately looked around, picturing the pack out here drooling and growling, trying to frighten me away from their meal. Breech returned minutes later with a large beach towel. My shoulders immediately relaxed as the fear left me, he made me feel safe.
Taking the towel, I folded it into a square then set it down next to the animal. Moving quickly but gently, I rolled the cat into the towel and pulled up the sides into a makeshift sling.
Before I could lift it, Breech reached over, his muscular arms bulging as he lifted the burden. “Lead the way; I’m right behind you,” he said. Walking back to the house, I led him into the kitchen.
“Put it down on the table but don’t unwrap it; I’ve got to get my kit first.” Leaving him with the cat, I headed into the bathroom for the first aid kit. On my return, I unwrapped the still-piteously-crying cat then did a quick survey; there were puncture wounds on its head and neck. There was blood on the back paws. When I checked beneath its tail I also found out it was a girl.
“She’s not moving any of her paws, but since it looks like the coyote got her in the neck, that could just be shock.” Ripping open a couple of alcohol wipes, I started cleaning the wounds I could see. “She needs an X-ray, Breech; we need to get her to the clinic.”
“We need to get dressed, then,” he said. “I’ll take her out to the truck to wait for you. Just gimme a sec to grab a T-shirt and my cut and boots.” He was back in a second, carefully carrying the wrapped cat.
I took off down the hall to pull on a pair of sweats and a hoodie. Slipping on my chucks, I was ready to go in no time. Running out to the truck, I saw that Breech had settled the cat in a laundry basket filled with an old blanket and the towel we had wrapped her in.
“Thank you, Breech; that was sweet of you to make her comfortable.”
He grunted, “I didn’t want to get scratched, didn’t do it for her.” I smiled to myself. He said he wasn’t an animal person, but I saw the look on his face when the cat cried out in pain. He drove through the early morning fog, pulling into the clinic parking lot. Hopping out of the truck, I reached back to grab the basket, but he shook his head. “I got it. You go ahead, unlock the door and get your stuff together.”
Once inside the clinic, I flipped on the lights and entered one of the exam rooms just off the main hallway. Breech came in carrying the basket. I motioned for him to place it on the floor next to the stainless-steel table. Turning to the cabinet, I pulled out some supplies then came back to the table. The room was cool from the air conditioning and it had a slight antiseptic smell.
After slipping on a pair of gloves, I reached carefully into the basket, taking her by the scruff and moving her gently onto the table. She cried out in pain, yowling pitifully. I tried to soothe her while I started to examine her. She had cuts that were bleeding from several sites on her head, neck, and upper back. She didn’t seem to be moving her paws; her legs were sticking straight out from her body, and she wasn’t moving them. “Breech, I think the coyote got her spinal cord; she’s not moving her legs. I have to call Sandra; this baby needs some X-rays, stat!”
Breech reached into his cut; pulling out his phone, he thumbed through a couple screens, then Opry’s voice came through the speaker. “Yo, Breech, how’s it hanging, man?”
“Opry, listen, Jiji and I are at the clinic; a stray cat she’d been feeding got attacked by a coyote outside the house. She needs more help than we can give her. Jiji needs Sandra to come to the clinic.”
My head whipped around to look at Breech. “You knew I’d been feeding her and you didn’t say anything?”
He shrugged.
“Hang on, Breech, she’s just stepping out of the shower.”
I could hear Opry moving then Sandra’s voice, “Jiji what’s happening?” Sandra asked.
“Sandra, she’s got puncture wounds through the head and neck area—not a lot of blood—but she’s not moving her legs, so I’m not sure if her spinal cord is involved. I can get the X-rays then have them ready for you when you get here.”
“Sounds good, but don’t move her more than you have to. I’m on my way,” Sandra said.
The phone disconnected so I handed it back to Breech. “Thanks for bringing us here, Breech. I’m going to take the X-rays in the back. If you want to go, I can catch a ride back with Sandra later.”
Breech caught me as I rounded the table to pick up the cat. “Stop dismissing me, Jiji. I’m as invested in this little one as you are, and you know it. Where’s the coffee pot—I’ll go brew us some while you do your thing.”
“You don’t have to do this, Breech—it could be a while before we know anything. I can text you once I know what’s going on with her.”
He moved into my space, backing me into the table. “I want to do this, doll, so stop trying to push me away.” His big hand tipped my chin up, forcing me to look up into his face.
He was a big man, probably 6’7” or 6’8”, and buff; his chest and arms were heavily muscled with lots of colorful tattoos. He had black hair shaved close on the sides but kept long on top and a full but neatly trimmed beard. He had a straight nose and full, kissable lips. He wore black-rimmed glasses at times, and usually wore a snapback hat backward. He could be intimidating to most people but to me he was a big teddy bear. No doubt he could roar often and loudly, but almost never at me. Yeah, with me he was all bark and no bite, thank God.
I wouldn’t want to be on his bad side if he really got angry, though.
Right now, we had a truce. My best friend, Tish, just married my brother, Fighter. He’s also part of the Devil’s Wind motorcycle club that Breech belonged to. While they were away on their honeymoon, Breech was staying at the house so I wouldn’t be alone. Rolling my eyes at Fighter hadn’t stopped him from making Breech move in temporarily, not that I tried any harder than that. Breech and I are like oil & water: we just don’t mix well. But I just can’t seem to stay away from him either. Seeing him day-in and day-out at the house has stretched my nerves to the breaking point.
During the school year, I worked here at the clinic with Sandra while studying at night towards my BA in science then hopefully I can apply to veterinary school. My mom had been killed by my stepfather last year; after, the lunatic targeted Tish and me because we were there when he killed her. That whole nightmare led us to the Devil’s Wind and Fighter. The life insurance money she set us up with is how I’m able to go to school, because Fighter would take none of it. My big bro’ said he was well able to take care of himself—that he didn’t want it or need it. He wanted me to fulfill my dream of becoming a vet and he wanted me to have the money. I gratefully accepted it to help with the hefty school price tag.
Breech still stared at me expectantly; I shook my head to clear my thoughts. I sighed then gave up the information he wanted. “Go down this hallway, make a left; it’s the second room on the left.”
He smiled, dropped a kiss on my lips, then released me and walked out the door.
Shit, what the hell was that about? I couldn’t help raising my hand to my lips; they tingled from just that brief contact. God help me if he decided to really kiss me.
Sighing, I went to where the cat lay on the table. “I think I will call you Tink after Tinkerbell because, girl, someone must’ve been waving some pixie dust over you today or you’d have been breakfast for that coyote.” The sedative I gave her had kicked in because she was basically just a lump. The hissing had stopped and the only way I could tell she was alive was the gentle rise and fall of her belly as she breathed. Gathering her up, I took her to the X-ray room.