“Why are you there when I’m not?Gather your friend and get the hell out of there.”
“What’s your problem? We’re justhaving a few beers. What, afraid of your girlfriend’s having alittle fun?”
“What the fuck is that supposedto mean?” I’m screaming now.
The phone clicks a few times,and I think he’s hung up on me, but then Annie’s voice comes backon. “Jade, why are you yelling? I told you, it’s fine.”
“Fine?” Was she blind? Orstupid? I want to remind her of the last time they had been in thecottage. How Denny had choked me and pushed himself on Annie. Ican’t believe I even need to bring it up. In fact, I’m havingtrouble even saying the words.
“Yes, Jade. It’s not a big deal.Trust me.”
Without meaning to, I let out alaugh. “Are you fucking kidding me, Annie?”
There’s a pause. Then Anniespeaks, and there’s a note of coldness in her words. “Get homesoon, okay? I have to go.”
Pulling over to the side of theroad, I turn off the engine and grab my phone from the seat. Withmy heart racing as fast as my mind, I quickly redial her. Theautomated message comes on immediately.
I feel the panic rising. I placethe phone in the cubby and look at my watch. It’s 10:45. The lastferry leaves in fifteen minutes. I’m too far away from theterminal, but I’ve got to try.
The tall trees reach high up tothe small strip of night sky. My foot is heavy on the pedal, thetruck fighting to stay on the winding road.
My mind is filled with worstcase scenarios. All of them in the same room. Annie, small andtrusting. Denny forever a hairsbreadth from exploding. I can onlypray that he'll take his rage out on the cottage and not my girl.Why the hell doesn’t he take his medication?
Then I remember what Annie hadsaid. He’s acting really normal. I wipe a line of sweat from my lipas I consider the impossibility; that he’s actually taking hispills. It’s hard for me to believe, but then I think of Robbie—howhe’d coaxed Denny out of the house the other day. Maybe Robbie wasmanaging to convince him, the way my father had.
Then I remember the last thingDenny had said. Afraid of your girlfriend having a little fun?
I press my foot harder, almostto the floor. The limit is 60 kph. The speedometer hits 110.
Finally, I can see the lightsfrom the terminal. Relief washes over me. I’m going to make it. Iwhip around the last corner, almost on two wheels as I pull up tothe ferry booth. I smile at the grey-haired lady behind the window,my heart pounding as if I had run instead of driven. “You would notbelieve the trouble it took to get me here,” I tell her, handingher cash.
Just then the foghorn sounds,and for the first time I look out into the ferry lanes. There’s noone here but me and a couple of service trucks.
I glance at the clock.11:05pm.
Chapter Five
I’m sitting in the first trafficlane, watching the lucky bastards on the ferry get smaller on thebay. My cell is in my hand. I’ve tried calling Annie three times.It went straight to voicemail, not even ringing, as if she were onanother call. Or her phone was off.
I have no idea how I’ll getthrough the night, but I have no option. Unless the Loch NessMonster pokes its head out of the water and offers me a ride, I’mstuck here until 6:45 in the morning. I’m waiting for over sixhours for a ferry ride that takes twenty minutes.
I can’t sit still anymore. Idecide to get out of the truck, check on my recently fixed tire andlook in the back for my phone charger. I don’t want to risk myphone dying. I make sure I have the keys in my hand before closingthe door—it would be just my luck to lock them in the cab.
Just as I kneel next to thetire, I hear the tapping of paws, and I look up to see a golden labbounding towards me from across the lanes. He’s moving fast with mein his sights, but he’s not growling and his head isn’t down.
He reaches me, out of breath,his tongue hanging out of his mouth. I reach out and pet his softhead. “Hello, big guy. Where’s your family?” He has on a redharness with no leash and no collar. “Did you make a break fromsomewhere? You silly boy.” He licks my hand and then sits down. Hiseyes stare happily at me.
I look around for his master,but there’s no one in sight. In a way, I’m grateful. At least I’llhave someone to talk to. Someone to distract me.
The tire is holding air. I standwith a breath of relief, then go back to the cab and rummagethrough my back seat, digging out my phone charger and the paperbag with the lunch in it that I didn’t get to eat. When I close theback door, I see that the dog is sitting there, his full attentionon the bag. “You don’t like peanut butter sandwiches, do you?” Irustle the bag and he sits up straight and lets out a bark. He’ssuch a beautiful animal. I’m sure whoever owns him is searching forhim.
The moment I open the driver’sdoor he jumps in and sits on the passenger’s seat, his eyes stillon the paper bag in my hand. Typical dog—cupboard love. I climb inand close the door, then unwrap the sandwich and hold it out infront of me. Immediately a furry, giant jaw snags the entire thing,gone in one gulp.
“Dude, what the hell? Did youeven chew that?”
He looks at me, unfazed, andthen stares at the brown bag for more.
“That was crazy. You’re going toget a gut ache. You’re like a trash can with feet.” I take mythermos lid and fill it with water from my bottle and hold it outfor him. He slurps and splashes it everywhere in his attempts toget a drink. I’m not sure how much he actually took in, but atleast his tongue is wet so that’s got to help some.
I take an apple from the bag andhold
