Page 39 of Burn Bag (Owens Protective Services #31)

KAVANAUGH

“I hate security installs. People in the middle of nowhere should just have a shotgun on hand. By the time anyone gets here, they’ll be dead anyway,” I muttered.

“Zoe says it’s not for the police, but for her.”

“In what way? So she can die awake instead of being shot while sleeping peacefully in her bed?”

“Easy,” he snapped. “That’s my wife you’re talking about.”

“I know, but she’s safe. I’m talking about everyone else.”

“It’s because if she hears the alarms go off, she has time to slip out the window and run away before they can get to her.”

I stopped working and stared at him. “And you’re okay with this?”

He shrugged. “I suppose it has its own form of logic.”

“That she would abandon your kids and run out the window, leaving them behind to a murderer?”

He scowled at me. “Well, nothing’s perfect.”

I chuckled, going back to my job. “That’s some fucked up logic.”

“Not any worse than half the other shit these women think of. I’m sure Daphne has a few ‘ideas’ of her own that grate on your nerves.”

I didn’t even want to think of all the things Daphne would come up with in the years to come. I was still getting to know her. There had to be a shit ton of things coming my way that would shock the hell out of me.

“Well, I don’t know any yet, but I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough.”

“What’s that like? Seriously?”

I glanced over at him, unsure of what he meant. “What’s what like?”

“The whole marrying a stranger. Doesn’t it freak you out that you’ll wake up one morning and find out something absolutely horrible about her?”

“Not really.”

“And then you’ll just have to go on with your life because you already pledged yourself to her for better or worse. I mean, what if she’s like really fucked up?”

That had me pausing. “Fucked up, how?”

He shrugged, thinking it over. “I don’t know. What if you find out that she farts in her sleep. You know, but way worse than any man. And it doesn’t happen every once in a while, but all the time.”

I rolled my eyes. “Farting is a natural bodily function. I’m not sure divorcing her over that is a legitimate reason.”

“But that’s my point. It would drive you fucking insane and there’s not a single thing you can do about it. Your friends would look at you like you were insane and a judge would throw it out of court in an instant. Either way, you look like an ass.”

“Yeah, and I would be if I divorced my wife because she farted a lot.”

He rolled his eyes heavily. “Alright, let’s say it’s something worse than that. Maybe she’s a compulsive liar.”

“You’re just making shit up.”

“She’s such a horrible liar that when you ask her if she took out the trash, she lies to your face when you’re standing right next to the garbage can.”

“That sounds like something I would do.”

“Yet, she’s the one doing it.”

“Well, how the fuck can I be mad at her for doing something I would do?” I snapped. “That doesn’t make any sense! ”

“Fine, then she lies about paying bills on time. She’s notorious late, and you have fees racking up every month because she can’t just tell you she forgot to pay the bill.”

I scratched the back of my head. “Again, that sounds like something I would do. Not that I would lie about it, but I definitely might forget to pay the bill on time.”

“Alright, but what about the cats? She brought all those cats home and didn’t tell you about them.”

“Are you trying to find reasons for me to divorce my wife?”

“No, I’m just wondering when you’re going to look at this logically. You married a stranger. Anything could happen.”

“Yeah, she could be a serial killer and I could end up dead one morning. I guess you’d better be prepared for my funeral,” I jested.

“You know?—”

My phone rang, interrupting the next tirade that would no doubt make this job take three times as long. “Ope! Gotta take this call,” I said, shooting him a fake apologetic look. “Go for Kavanaugh.”

“Hey, it’s Slider.”

“Yeah, what’s up? I’m on a job.”

“I know, man. Uh…we’re at the hospital.”

Something about the way he said that sent a static buzz through my body and I stiffened, reaching out to anything that could steady me. “For what?”

“Daphne. She was in an accident.”

I swallowed hard, barely breathing as his words echoed through my head. “Is…is she okay?”

“I think so. She’s got a nasty gash on her head. She’s with the doctor right now. Harper was with her. I think Harper’s okay.”

I was having trouble processing what he was saying. I knew Daphne was in the hospital, but the way he was talking… “Is she gonna live?” I croaked out. My knees felt shaky and dizziness washed over me, threatening to take me down.

“Yeah. Just get to the hospital now.”

I hung up, staring at my phone for a second as my short marriage to Daphne flashed through my mind. It had barely been a week. How could…

“Hey, what’s going on?” Red asked.

I looked up to find both Red and Eli staring at me intently. “Daphne was in an accident. She’s in the hospital.”

“You drive him,” Eli ordered. “I’ll wrap shit up and meet you there.”

I heard Red saying something to him, but my head pounded with possibilities of what could have happened and whether or not Daphne was okay.

Somehow, Red got me to the truck and tucked me inside, but I barely noticed a thing.

I stared out the window the whole drive, wondering why God would do this to me when I just fucking met her.

Love? I didn’t know about that, but I knew she was someone I wanted in my life, and losing her would be fucking devastating. I vaguely heard Red saying shit to me, but there wasn’t a damn thing that broke through the thoughts in my head.

I couldn’t lose her.

I couldn’t lose another person.

Fuck, I was just getting to know her.

Our lives together were not supposed to end like this.

“We’re here,” Red pointed out the obvious when he stopped at the drop-off zone. “I’ll meet you inside after I park the truck.”

I nodded, not bothering to look back at him as I shoved the door open and stepped out.

Each step was hauntingly slow. It was like walking to my doom.

He said she was okay, but what did that mean?

Was she truly okay or just not dead yet?

There was a very big difference, one that I couldn’t handle yet.

The doors whooshed open and I stepped through, watching through someone else’s eyes as Slider stood up from where he sat and walked over to me. I felt like my knees were about to buckle, but I somehow managed to stay upright. She would be fine. She had to be.

“Is…is she okay?”

“The doctor is still back with her, but I think she’s okay.”

I nodded, still not able to breathe, not until I knew she was really okay. “What happened?”

“She took your truck out. Harper was with her. They were going to the store and…I don’t know. She got distracted, overreacted when she was about to hit the fence, and then drove straight into Duke’s shop.”

All the thoughts in my head stopped at his words. “Wait, she wasn’t hit by another vehicle or run off the road?” He stared at me. “She got in an accident on our property?”

He gave a curt nod.

“She smashed my truck into Duke’s shop and there wasn’t even another vehicle or…a cow in the fucking road?”

“That’s about the gist of it.”

The gist of it. My wife drove my truck into a shop and there literally wasn’t anything else involved. Just her. Just her and my truck. My knees weakened. “How’s my truck?”

He clapped me on the shoulder, giving me a sympathetic look. “I’m really sorry, man. I don’t think it’s going to make it.”

“Fuck,” I hissed, dropping my head in my hands.

“What? What is it?” Red asked, rushing to my side.

“Why?” I cried out. “Why the fuck did this happen to me?”

“Oh shit,” Red murmured, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder.

Slowly, I peeled my face from my hands and looked back at Slider. “Are they sure? I mean…what if they?—”

Slider shook his head. “I’m really fucking sorry. There was nothing he could do.”

Nothing he could do. The truck was gone—my baby was gone.

“Gone? Just like that?” Red asked.

“Shit happens, man,” Slider shrugged.

“Shit happens? That’s all you have to say after the man lost—what the fuck is wrong with you?”

I was vaguely aware of Red shooting around my side and tackling Slider to the ground, slamming his fist into the man’s face.

I would have tried to intervene, but I was too devastated.

My baby was gone. I had put so much love and attention into that truck, and with the snap of my fingers, she was gone.

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger!” Slider shouted, pushing Red off him .

“The messenger? That’s all you have to say?” Red shouted.

The nurse came running over, yelling at both of them, but I was too devastated to care. I sank down in a chair and buried my face in my hands, feeling like I was about to cry.

Red sat down beside me, his hand immediately on my shoulder in a soothing gesture. “Hey, it’ll be okay. We’re here for you, man. We’ll give her a nice burial.”

I shook my head. It wasn’t worth it. I wasn’t sure I could handle anything like that anyway. “Just take it to the junkyard,” I muttered.

“The—I’m sorry, what are we talking about?”

Sighing, I dropped my head back and stared at the hospital ceiling. I couldn’t deal with this right now. My truck was gone.

“Kavanaugh, what the fuck are you talking about?” Red demanded.

“She totaled his fucking truck,” Slider announced. “It’s gone. She drove it straight through Duke’s shop window and slammed it into the brick wall. That thing is toast.”

Just hearing the words again nearly had me breaking down, but somehow, I held it together. I had to.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re crying over a fucking truck? I thought Daphne was dead!” Red exploded.

I shook my head. “She’s with the doctor. Probably a good bump on her head, which is to be expected after totaling my truck.”

“Are you—are you fucking crying over your truck?” Red snapped.