Shep

I can barely sleep. The feel of her, her scent. The sounds she makes. They still linger all around me. Even after two showers and five hours of travel. I’m never disappointed with my annual trips to Mistress Evelyn's. She and her husband are selling the place soon, but thank fuck they are selling to one of their dedicated switches and his new wife. The doors to The Club will remain open and my membership intact. And she’ll still be unattached. My pet. My Meegan. I roll over and reach over Titus for my phone. Just one text and our session will be over until we meet up again next year.

My screen lights up my darkened bedroom. Titus whines, sick of my shit, and moves to the foot of my bed. He's been with the neighbors, two miles down the wooded trail for the last few days. Jad and May-Bell are saints. They know a man like me living alone in the mountains has needs. Even if they only make themselves painfully apparent once a year.

My eyes instinctively go to the various unread alerts dotting my screen. My work emails can wait for the morning. My thumb skips right over the seven and zero back lit on the red dot. I open my text messages. Mistress Evelyn received my proper and humble thanks before I caught my flight back to Sacramento. The rest of the gang wished me safe travels and sincere hopes that I won’t stay away for so long. But they know the deal. I'll be back in another three hundred some odd days. I click on my messages and hit Meegan's name.

Her response is immediate.

I smile, my cock throbbing in my thermals. I have to give it a rest. For a few hours. Meegan rode me raw. There’s no need for me to jack off for at least a week. Another text bubble pops up.

It's Marcos.

I chuckle at the smiling emoji he sends along. Titus huffs and shifts again. "Sorry, boy." I reach for his thick fur and give him a comforting pat.

It's time for me to tuck her in.

A picture pops up, Meegan spread out on top of pink satin sheets, her inner thighs bruised up with marks from my hands and my flogger. Her pussy lips still bright red and tender. I won’t make it until the morning. I grab my cock and start stroking as I type.

Done and done.

Another picture. Marcos's stubbled cheeks and his tongue just about to drag over her clit. Good thing I am not the jealous type. I drop my phone on my bed. I'll plug it in when I’m finished.

That’s when I hear the screams.

Later, when I wash her blood off in the shower I suddenly remember the day we learned about adrenaline in my AP chemistry class. How it makes you sharp, quick, super human.

I am out of my bed and in my boots before I hear the second shriek. Titus is already off the bed and bounding out the bedroom door. Isn’t even a full five seconds. My steps are thundering across my hardwood floors. The pounding comes, her shrieks louder and louder as I retrieve my shotgun. Still loaded. May-Bell has always said, when you're home, boy, keep that porch light on. You never know when a stranger will come calling in the night.

"HELP!" The single word comes clearly through the thick wood I sanded and stained with my own hands.

I nudge Titus out of the way, his panicked barks mixing with her cries, then yank the door open. A Black woman is on the other side. She tumbles into my arms, a blast of cool air surrounding her unusual warmth. Later, I'll get a good look at her. Catalog her clean dark hair and her wide hazel eyes staring at the ceiling, the fear burned into her gaze forever. But in this moment there is only blood.

I catch her with my free hand, sure to keep a grip on my firearm.

"He's coming—he's trying—he—they killed—kill—" she gasps, tries to swallow, but chokes. No gurgling though. Just spits the blood out of her mouth and tries again. She sobs. "He was right behind—me." I look down at her hands, all cut up to shit. Down at her feet. Only one wool sock. Her other foot is dirty and bleeding. I squint out into the pitch black woods. How fast was she running? I have a motion sensor installed. Still, darkness.

A second later though, I can hear him, crunching through the underbrush. And sure enough, there he is bounding through the trees. I don’t think. I shove her behind me. I feel her as she trips over Titus's hulking frame. Feel the thud as she sprawls out on the floor. I step out on the porch and swing my shotgun up to my shoulder.

"Don't fucking move!" I call out just as he breaks through the trees. The lights come on. I don’t hesitate. I fire. Of course, momentarily blinded, I fucking miss. But the warning shot was enough to get his attention. More blood and dirt cover him from eyebrows to the toes of his boots. Blood covers the small knife in his hand.

"Well, well. She made it to civilization. Guess our little game is coming to an end." He eases closer.

"Please." A delicate voice whimpers behind me. "Shoot him."

"You stop and I bring you in alive," I yell. "You take another fucking step and I'll blow your fucking head off."

He raises his hands in surrender and a sick smile spreads across his face. "We could share her, man."

I’m done trying to bargain with the psycho. I mutter a prayer to myself and pull the trigger.

* * *

The adrenaline is still pumping. My priorities slide into clear focus. I keep Titus from making the situation worse by either licking this injured woman sitting on my floor (more than he already has) or by making a chew toy out of what is left of her attacker. It takes some work, but I corral him into my bedroom and lock the door.

When I come back into the great room, the woman is passed out in the threshold of my cabin. Still bleeding from a gash on her forehead, but still breathing. I grab a dish towel and my first aid kit from under the sink and do the best triage I can manage on her head and right hand, but it’s clear these wounds are just a couple of many. I have to get her to the hospital.

Jad Tierney calls my house phone as I search for my keys. I tear the cordless phone off its base when I see his name flash across the caller ID.

“Were those shots I just heard?”

“Yeah. Fuck. Shit. Sorry, yes.”

“You okay?”

“Yes, no. Yes. I’m fine. I don’t know what happened. I have this woman here. She’s pretty beat up. I shot the guy who was chasing her.”

“Is he dead?”

I swallow, a sick sense of pride clouding my thoughts. “Yeah, he’s dead. I didn’t miss the second time.” I find my keys on my kitchen table. “I can’t wait for Reva or Kevin to get up here. I’m taking her down to QER myself. You gotta call Jerry.” There was no time to wait for an ambulance crew to make it up to my place.

“Should we come over?” I hear May-Bell in the background.

“No! Absolutely not.”

“Okay,” Jad says, trying to call me down.

“Just stay at your place and call Jerry. And—fuck, tell him to bring backup. He shouldn’t handle this by himself.”

“Okay, son. Okay.”

“I’ll call you as soon as I can.” I hang up and rush back over to the woman again. Still knocked out, but a quick check of her pulse tells me she’s still kicking. I throw on my jacket—it’s balls freezing outside—and then carefully pick her up and walk her out to the passenger side of my truck, doing my best to shield her view from the body sprawled out lifeless in my yard, even though her eyes are closed.

I don’t drive carefully. The adrenaline is still flowing. I reverse out of my driveway, stopping only to throw open the fence at the end of my property, then I gun it down the dirt road until I reach the paved rural route. I know these mountain roads of the Paluma National Forest like the back of my hand and I know as we pass the two county cruisers, blue and whites blazing halfway down the narrow mountain road, we are still twenty minutes away from the ER in Quinten.

She moans beside me, then groans even louder when her head lolls to the side and smacks the passenger window.

“Shit.”

“I… what… my head?” She reaches up and touches the makeshift bandage.

"Stay with me, okay?" I glance over at my passenger then back at the road. "We're gonna be there soon."

That doesn’t seem to help. She starts shaking. Blood loss or shock or just straight-up fear, I have no clue, but I’m going to get her help. She says something. It sounds more like a squeak than actual words.

"What was that?"

"My brother," she whispers, then lets out a guttural sob. "They killed my brother."

Fucking shit. "Are you sure?”

She nods, though it looks more like a shiver. “I’m pretty sure. I just—I just ran. He told me to run.”

“No, you did the right thing. You should have run. You made it. You’re gonna be okay.” I grope for the CB radio and switch over to the emergency channel, ignoring the blood that’s already dried on my hand. This is all information that Sheriff Bingham needs to know.

I take a deep breath. “It’s Shep. There might be another victim near the pass trail. Over.”

“10-4, Shep,” The voice of my childhood friend Abigail comes cracking back through the speaker. “Jerr and Will are on their way. Over.”

I glance back at the woman, a second too long. I almost overcorrect and drive us off the road. “Shit! Sorry. I’m sorry. You said they. There was more than one of them? More than one of them attacked you?" I ask her. Nothing. “Come on, darling. Stay with me.”

She doesn’t respond, but her shoulders shake. Another strange noise bubbles up. At least she’s still conscious.

I hit the button on the radio again. “Shep again. Tell the boys to be on the lookout. There might be another perp. He might be armed. Over.”

More crackling. “Copy that. Over.”

“Can you tell me your name?” I ask.

She answers me, but I can’t hear her weakened voice over the sound of my engine.

“I’m sorry, darling. Can you speak up a little?”

“Claudia. My name is Claudia.” Definitely crying.

“I’m Shep, Claudia. Sorry we couldn’t have met under better circumstances. Normally, I’d hug you. But I don’t want to jostle you any more than I already have. Can you hang in there with me a little longer?”

No response.

“Can you tell me what hurts?”

“My head,” she mutters.

“Okay, good, good. What else?”

“My feet hurt. My foot. I don’t have any shoes on.”

“Yeah, you showed up with no shoes. We’ll get you shoes. Don’t worry. Tell me what else hurts.”

“My side. He kicked me—a couple times. And I—I can’t see very well.” I glanced over again. I didn’t have time to wipe all the blood away. It was definitely in her eyes.

“They’ll get you cleaned up. I promise. Do you want to hold my hand?” I offer, dropping my radio mic on my center console.

She doesn’t answer, she just reaches for me. Her fingertips are freezing, but she holds on.

“Just stay with me,” I say more to myself. Still, Claudia squeezes my fingers.

* * *

Reva and Eartha are waiting with Dr. Spring and a stretcher as soon as I pull into the ambulance bay. I hop out and run around to help them open the door.

“Jesus, Shep!” Eartha gasps as she looks me up and down. I realize I’m still not wearing a shirt. My chest and my pants are covered in Claudia’s blood.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m not bleeding. Help her.” I rip open the passenger door and ease her into my arms and onto the stretcher.

“What happened?” Dr. Spring asks as we race inside the ER’s double doors.

“Someone attacked her in the woods and I think her brother. I passed Will and Jer, but you gotta send an ambulance up for the brother. I think they were off Grafton’s Pass. I didn’t see him.”

“Thank you, Shep. You did good. We got it from here.”

I nod and drop back, but Claudia reaches for me. “Shep,” she says weakly.

“Don’t worry, hun,” Dr. Springs says in her soothing voice. “He’ll be right here. Don’t worry.”

I wait in the hallway until they disappear with Claudia through another set of doors. I shove my hands in my pockets and realize that I don’t have my keys or my phone. They are both in my truck, which is still sitting in the ambulance bay. I jog outside and park my truck in the parking lot, ignoring the sounds of sirens in the otherwise quiet night. Back inside, the emergency waiting room is quiet.

I can’t sit. I’m calm, but my heart's still pounding. There’s ringing in my ears. I start pacing. I keep looking at my hands. It’s definitely shock.

“Hey man.” I look up at Todd Logan, QER’s worst orderly. There was a time when Todd kicked my ass for fun, but my growth spurt put an end to that. “Eartha told me to give you this.” He has a set of scrubs in his hand. “What the fuck happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“Who’d you kill?” He laughs. I don’t. “Oh shit. You fucking killed someone?”

“How about we do this some other time,” I say.

“You brought in the stab wounds? Did you stab her?”

“Todd!” We both look up as his grandmother comes back through the swinging doors. “Is your shift over?”

“No, ma’am.” She rips the blue shirt out of his hand and nods down the other hall. “Scoot.”

“I gotta hear this story, man,” he says as he starts walking backwards down the hall.

“Don’t pay attention to him,” Miss Fern says with a smile.

“Did you see her?” I ask as I finally sit.

“They’re still working on her now, but I think she’ll be okay. She’s fighting. You want to tell me what happened?” Fern Logan, unlike her shitty ass grandson is beloved by the whole county. She kept me in casseroles for a year after my grandfather passed. It isn’t a matter of whether or not I feel like I can rehash the last two hours of my life. It’s more like I respect Miss Fern enough to dredge it all up again. I tell her every detail.

“You saved her life.”

“Maybe. She—yeah. Her brother might still be out there though. She said he told her to run. He might be dead.”

“Try not to think about that, sweetheart. You did what you could and that was a whole lot.”

“Yeah.” I look down at my hands again.

“We haven’t had one of these in a while, but just hang tight. You’re gonna have to talk to Jerry. About all of this.” I look up into her milky green eyes. She nods down at my hands. They are shaking. So is my leg. I’ve known Jerry as long as I’ve known anyone in Quentin County, but I should probably get my shit together before I sit down to talk to the head of the Sheriff’s department.

“I know,” I say.

“You want some coffee?”

“I’ll grab it.”

“Nonsense. You’ve had a hell of a night. Just hang tight. I’ll check in on her and then I’ll grab you something to drink.”

“Thank you.”

I wait. Fern comes back with coffee. They are finishing up with Claudia. They’ll have more news in a few minutes, she tells me. A woman comes in with a feverish baby. I try not to let the look on her face when she does a double take in my direction bother me too much. After Fern gets the mother and her baby situated, Fern checks on Claudia again. She’s out of surgery. Even though I’m not family, she sneaks me back.

Dr. Spring is waiting for us outside of her room. “We gave her something for the pain so she’s a little woozy, but she’s fighting sleeping. She’s a tough one for sure.”

“I’m seeing that,” I say.

Fern winks at me, then ushers me inside of the room. I hesitate until she and Dr. Spring are out of sight before I enter all the way. Then I zip up my jacket and shove my hands in my pockets. I sit in the shitty plastic chair beside her bed.

Fuck, she’s banged up. Even with the blood and dirt finally washed away from her golden brown skin, it is clear as day that piece of shit had definitely tried to kill Claudia. Her head and her right hand are bandaged, and her left foot all the way up to her calf. There are scrapes and scratches all over her and her left eye is already starting to swell up.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” A fat tear runs down her cheek. I want to wipe it away, but my hands. “My brother. Miles. Did they find him?” Her words are a little slurred, but loud enough for me to make them out.

“Haven’t heard anything yet, but as soon as I see the sheriff I’ll find out for you.”

“They killed him.” More fat tears.

“Shhh.” I slide closer, pissed for some reason that I can’t touch her. I barely know her. I don’t know her at all. “It’s gonna be okay. You’re safe now.”

“I ran. I just left him.”

“Claudia. Look at me.” She listens, turning her head the little bit that she can. Her hazel eye, the one that isn’t swelling shut, is big and bloodshot, but is the most beautiful eye I am pretty sure I’ve ever seen. “I’m gonna stay here with you until we find out where your brother is. Okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

She glares at me and then squints a little. “What’s your name again?”

“Shep. Shep Olsen.”

Her eyes close. “Thank you, Shep. For shooting that guy. I—I can’t repeat what he said to me.”

“You don’t have to. Not to me. Save it for the cops when you’re ready. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Just try and sleep,” I say.

“I don’t think I can.”

“Well I’m gonna sit here with you anyway.”

“’Kay.”

I think she might be able to hold out, but either the drugs or the exhaustion take over. I watch her sleep for over two hours. Miss Fern comes back with more coffee and Eartha comes to check on Claudia’s vitals and mine. I can’t stop shaking. Caffeine and shock don’t mix. She says I’ll be fine, but I should probably switch to water. I just want Claudia to be okay. I want them to find her fucking brother. Alive and well.

A while later, I hear my name.

“Shep.” I look up and see Jerry standing in the hallway with Dr. Spring. He nods toward me and then toward the exit. “Let’s go for a walk.”

I stand, look at Claudia one more time, then follow Jerry out and down the hall. Across town to the sheriff’s station.