Page 28

Get your ass over here. I’ve got brew.

It’s a typical Soren text, and after a hellaciously long day, a beer sounds like the best thing in the world. Or at least a close second.

My fingers fly over the cell’s keyboard.

OMW

I drop into the driver’s seat of my Ford and grit my teeth against the desire to pound my head against the steering wheel. Then the pain in my forehead will distract from the throbbing aches in the rest of my body.

People are sick.Sofucking sick.

I got into veterinary medicine to help those who don’t have a voice.

No matter where you go, humans are humans. They wait until the last possible minute to get vetcare for their animals, and then by the time they bring their dog or cat in, it’s often too late.

This was one of those difficult days where it’s nearly impossible to keep my professionalism nailed in place. I’ve gotten good at it over the years, but today can go straight to hell and fuck itself on the trip south.

I jam the key in the ignition and back out of my parking spot in the minuscule lot behind the clinic.

The rest of the employees have already left for the day. Time for me to unwind, get drunk, and pass out into oblivion. In that order of course.

Although I’ll take the passing out whenever it comes.

It’s a short drive out to Savage Gardens, one I don’t need to be mentally aware of to make. I’ve been out there too many times to count.

Our ritual.

Once a year we all come to the lake for a long boys’ weekend. Except Soren and Aiden don’t live in town. I do.

Work keeps me shackled by obligations, so I’ve got to squeeze in the moments of fun whenever I can.

It’s Friday night. Shouldn’t I be out? Shouldn’t I be doing something to get into the world and be a part of it rather than hiding?

My left knee bobs to the beat of some Enrique Iglesias song on the radio.

No. I’m stuck here because I want to be, so I might as well stop pretending it’s not my choice. Thisismy life now.

It’s quarter to eight when I park beside Aiden’s truck. The lights from my vehicle hit on another car, sticking out just enough for me to see that it’s a ratty four-door sedan.

Looks like only rust holding the back fender in place, and a good stint through a carwash would probably result in the entire thing falling apart.

Definitely not Soren’s.

Who else do they have at the cabin? Christ, I don’t want to see anyone.

There’s Aiden at the door, with two cold bottles of beer balanced between his fingers. He holds my gaze until I’m out of the Ford and then crosses to press one of the bottles into my waiting grip.

“Happy Friday, fucker. It’s time to get drunk. You with me, Doc?”

I accept the bottle and take a long swig, swiping my hand against my mouth when I’m done. “My pleasure.”

“Soren’s got the grill fired up. Fresh trout,” Aiden says as I trail him inside. “Nothing better.”

“I’ll take ten of them, thanks. And a couple more of these.”

Aiden glances over his shoulder in approval. “You planning on doing some double fisting?”

I sigh, a sweet buzz already twining through my system. Get me in front of that lake and I turn into a pile of goo, happily.