Page 114 of Hell Hath No Fury

I rolled over on the couch to alleviate the crick in my neck and the cramp in my back. That comfy couch had gone from a cloud to a rock overnight. God, my head pounded. My mouth felt like it was full of cotton. I was pretty sure my eyelashes were glued to my face with mascara. So what if Jax and I had stayed up almost all night drinking wine? We were living our best life.

Well, we had been.

I definitely wasn't now though. I dragged my behind off the couch and met Jax at the front door where he was waiting all bright eyed and bushy tailed for me to let him out to pee. Like he hadn't partied like a rock star with me all night. I opened the door and out he darted while I hustled to the kitchen for some much-needed coffee. I watched him from the front window while he did his business and ran around the yard. I sucked down my coffee like it was going to save my life in hopes that it actually would.

Jax ran back around to the door and I let him in before pouring some food in his bowl, going upstairs to the only bathroom in the place and climbing my behind into the biggest bathtub I'd ever seen. It was probably the entire size of my bathroom in New York. It felt luxurious.

I languished in the bathtub until the water was way past tepid. Being that my headache was almost gone, I decided to actually get dressed and take old Jax for a walk. I brushed my long blonde locks into a high ponytail and applied some mascara around my baby blue eyes. I gave myself a once-over in the mirror. I knew I was in the middle of nowhere on topof a mountain but I ran into my YouTube fans everywhere, so I always had to be prepared. I looked good enough.

My black leggings and long gray sweater were cute and fit well. Which wasn't always the easiest feat for me since I was pretty tall for a girl coming in at a good five foot ten. And I wasn't one of those thin model like tall girls either. A sister had curves. Curves for days. Which most of the time I loved but it did make shopping for clothes a little troublesome at times. Which was why I'd fallen so hard for makeup. Makeup fit any face shape. it didn't discriminate against my dimples or almost nonexistent top lip. And once I learned to do makeup well, hell, I could make my own damn top lip anyway. Makeup was for everyone. Gender, size, height. None of it mattered. It was why I loved it.

After I made myself a quick sandwich since it was already past lunch time, I slipped on some tennis shoes and grabbed Jax's leash.

"Come here, bud," I cooed at my favorite dog and he got up slowly from his favorite spot near the fireplace. "Wanna go for a walk?"

He moseyed his way over to me slowly. And that was when I noticed it. He seemed to have a slight limp with every step he took. I immediately leaned down in front of him in sheer panic and checked every paw, my heart thundering in my chest. He gave my face a good lick like calm down crazy lady.

I then wracked my brain trying to remember if he had a limp when I let him inside earlier. I couldn’t remember. I didn’t think so. But I’d possibly not noticed it. What kind of dog sitter was I? Maybe he got bit by a spider or stepped on something. Oh. My. God. My brother would kill me if something happened to his dog.

Maybe I had imagined the limp? I raced across the room and once I got there, I called him over to me, holding out the leash. “Come on, Jax! Want to go for a walk?” I called to him and paidspecial attention to his legs and sure enough it looked like he was limping.

“Fuck me running,” I whispered, slipping to my knees and rubbing my hand up and down the offending leg. “Your daddy is going to murderize me.” I was pretty sure my brother loved his dog more than he loved me. I didn’t want to find out, though.

“Okay, okay. It’s fine,” I mumbled to myself after I couldn’t find a single damn thing wrong with any of his legs. Pacing the floor, I tried to remember everything Jason had told me before he left about the dog and I knew that one of them was about the vet.

I hadn’t paid much attention because I’d honestly thought there was no way in hell we would need a vet. I mean, what were the chances? I stopped and looked over at Jax laying back by the fireplace. Fuck. What if he had cancer or something? He had to be like nine years old now. How long did dogs even live?

The kitchen! I thought maybe my brother had told me the number for the vet was somewhere in there. I looked on the front of the fridge and started searching the drawers like a crazy person while Jax laid there giving me his usual “I can’t believe my dad left me with this crazy woman” look.

I was busy making a mess of the whole kitchen when I spotted a card stuck to the side of the fridge with a magnet. I snatched it off the fridge. Sugar Mountain Veterinary Clinic. Whew. Relief flooded me as I grabbed my cell phone from the living room couch and called the number on the card. It rang and rang and rang. No answer.

I checked their website online and it said they should be open and that it was only about a mile and a half down the mountain. I tried dialing them again, still to no avail. Shit. What the hell was I going to do? I had no car. Jason and Drew had driven theirs to the airport three hours away. And even if I did, there was no wayin hell I was driving on this steep ass mountain. I highly doubted Sugar Mountain had a car service or Uber drivers.

It didn’t stop me from searching though. I ended up being disappointed as hell but knowing exactly what I had to do. I couldn’t let my brother’s baby suffer. What kind of aunt would that make me?

We were going to have to walk.

CHAPTER FOUR

I was so wrong. We were not walking.

Well, at least, Jax wasn't.

I was walking for the both of us.

I was carrying what I was sure was, at the very least, a sixty-pound dog down a fucking mountain.

And I didn't use fucking lightly because this mountain was a beast and I'd had no idea how hard this would be when I started out.

A mile and a half down a mountain? No big deal. A mile and a half carrying a giant, hairy dog. Huge deal!

It was a good thing I was a sturdy girl because I was convinced someone smaller could have never done it. In fact, I'd stopped several times and set Jax down for a break. He'd just curl up and settle into a big pile of fur on the side of the road while I’d huffed and puffed trying to catch my breath. It was clear he wasn't going to take a step down this giant hill. So, it was all on me.

So, I'd just picked him up and kept right on trucking. Sweating like a whore in church. My thirty-three-year-old knees were aching. And let's not even talk about the dog hair. It was all over my clothes. On my face. Tickling my nose. In my mouth.

Each time I stopped, I checked the map on my phone making sure I was going the right way and even though it said I was, I was somehow convinced the damn vet’s office was getting further and further away. It was the longest mile and a half of my entire life.

"You owe me, bud," I panted, cradling Jax against my body while he lay his head happily against my shoulder and gazed up at me. "You owe me wine. You owe me dinner. You owe me your undying affection."