“Tex?” Mom said hesitantly in my ear.
“Hi Mom, it’s stil me. Hang on, here’s Uncle Tex.” Tex was taking in deep breaths, then pursing his lips and blowing them out in quick bursts like he was a woman in labor practicing Lamaze. I handed the phone receiver to him and he stared at it like it was a living thing. Then he took one more deep breath, snatched the receiver from my hand and put it to his ear. I set the phone on the dining room table.
“Trish?” Tex said in a soft boom.
I felt a melting warmth spread in my bel y. I got up close, rested my forehead against my uncle’s big, barrel chest and wrapped my arms around his middle. He may not have needed me to hold him, but I needed it, I needed it badly.
“Yeah, it’s me. How’s things?” Tex asked.
I heard my Mom talking to Tex, her voice sounded high and I couldn’t make out what she said. After she talked for a while, I felt Tex’s body relax and he put his hand on the back of my neck.
“Me and Roxie just had chops and rice. We been spendin’ a few days gettin’ to know each other. She’s a good kid, Trish. You done good with her. How’s Herb?” Mom talked again and I heard a knock at the door. I pul ed away, reached up on tiptoe and gave Uncle Tex’s fuzzy cheek a kiss and walked to the door.
I stil had a smile on my face when I opened the door.
The smile faded and my mouth dropped open at what I saw.
Hank was standing there, stil wearing his jeans, boots and wine-colored henley but now he was also wearing his black leather jacket.
“What are you doing here?” I asked but he didn’t answer.
He walked in and I jumped out of his way, because if I didn’t he would have walked right into me.
Hank looked around the room, searching for something.
Uncle Tex stood holding the phone receiver to his ear, eyes on Hank.
Then Hank grabbed my purse off the coffee table, came back to me, took my hand and dragged me out the door, slamming it behind us.
Through the slam, I could hear Uncle Tex’s booming laughter.
Holy cow.
What on earth was going on?
“Hank!” I yel ed, trying to pul my hand from his but he was dragging me along the sidewalk toward his 4Runner.
“Hank! Stop! What’s going on?”
He took me to the driver’s side, opened it, bent, picked me up and I let out a cry.
It was like I didn’t make a noise. Hank put me on the seat and then entered behind me so I had to scoot over to the passenger side, double time. Before I could do a thing, even buckle my safety belt, Hank threw my purse in my lap, started the car and took off.
“Take me back to Tex’s,” I demanded and he ignored me so I carried on. “What are you doing, take me back to Tex’s!”
He stil didn’t say anything.
“We’l just see about this,” I snapped, opened my purse and dragged out my phone. Who I was going to cal , I did not know, but I was going to cal someone.
I barely got the cel out when Hank plucked it out of my hand and tossed it on the dash, his side of the dash, far away from me.
I stared at it. Then I stared at him.
“Wel !” I said because I couldn’t think of anything else to say. My heart was hammering in my chest and my mind was in a tizzy.
Then I figured out what to say.
“This is crazy. You’re crazy. Denver’s crazy. Al you boys skipped right over the last century, didn’t you? I think even the last mil ion years! You’re cavemen,” I rattled on. “I do not believe you just dragged me out of Uncle Tex’s house. He was talking to my Mom!”
“Quiet,” Hank final y spoke.
“Fuck quiet. God! Why didn’t I get in my car and get the hel out of here when I had the chance?”
“That’s a good question,” was Hank’s answer.
That shut me up because I seriously didn’t want to go there.
I buckled my seat belt and crossed my arms on my chest and tried to devise a plan.
I was stil in my skintight skirt and heels. I couldn’t run. I stil had three cracked ribs. I couldn’t fight. I didn’t want to fight Hank anyway. Hel , I didn’t want to run either.
What was I saying? I thought.
Then I forced myself to stop thinking altogether.
Before I knew it, he parked in front of his house. I sat in his 4Runner, arms stil crossed, not moving, as he walked around the hood of the car.
He opened the passenger side door, leaned in and unbuckled me, then pul ed me out.
He dragged me up his front walk.
“I want to go back to Uncle Tex’s,” I said.
“You’re not goin’ back to Tex,” he replied in his authoritative voice and opened the door.
Before I could say anything else, Shamus was there and leaping al over Hank and me as Hank pul ed me inside.
“Hi fel a, hey there boy,” I cooed, bending to give him a quick scratch behind the ears. I was pissed off at Hank for abducting me but I saw no reason to take it out on Shamus.
It was a very quick scratch because Hank closed the door behind us, locked it, grabbed my hand again and then carried on dragging me, straight to the bedroom.