Waiting for Wyatt (Red Dirt #1) (43 page)

T
HE NEXT DAY, BLAIRE AND
I started packing boxes at about eight in the morning. Neither of us talked about the road trip as we helped Mr. Hughes empty his apartment. His daughter wanted to leave a few days early so they could get settled before the Thanksgiving holiday.

I had never met Nancy, but the tall woman hugged us both immediately when she came in the apartment, thanking us repeatedly for helping her father. Once everything was sealed up tight, we took a breather. Nancy had hired movers to put his furniture and boxes into the moving truck. All we needed to do was sit back as they carried everything away.

Once they finished, it took all three of us to get Mr. Hughes down the stairs. My nerves were frayed by the time we put his frail body in the front seat of the truck. He took a deep breath of the cool air and smiled. “I don’t know the last time I’ve been out here. Smells good.”

All I smelled was the strange food cooking in the other apartment building, but I nodded along like it was the best thing in the world. Blaire hugged him first, and I secretly smiled. Two voluntary hugs in twenty-four hours and she didn’t self-destruct. That was definite progress.

“You get these.” He pushed a set of keys in her hand.

“Your car?” She gasped.

“No sense in you two sharing anymore. And what am I going to do with it?” And then Blaire wrapped her arms around him again. I think the bristly ice queen might be going soft.

My eyes watered up before I ever hugged Mr. Hughes. I swore I wouldn’t cry, but swearing never really helped me keep it together. Like Wyatt said, my emotions were as transparent as hell.

I slipped my arms around his old bony neck, holding Mr. Hughes tight as he whispered in my ear. “You keep an eye on Priscilla for me.”

“I will,” I promised, smiling through the tears.

“And when you finally get to take her out, hold on tight to that boy. I don’t want you falling off on the pavement.”

I laughed, picturing him riding his motorcycle down the highway. I still had a hard time believing he was a biker. But there was always more to a story than what people saw on the surface. “Bye, Mr. Hughes.”

“Bye, Emma.” I shut the door to the moving truck. My sister and I waved until they made the wide turn into the street.

“So the old bastard is finally gone,” Kurt spoke up, leaning against the brick wall of the lower-level apartments.

“Don’t be an ass,” Blaire spat at him.

Kurt chuckled, enjoying the reaction he’d caused in my sister. He reached up, stroking the long, wiry ends of his beard. His old work shirt was half open down the front, flashing a nasty amount of chest hair.

I wasn’t against chest hair. Wyatt had a soft patch right in the middle of his chest. But seeing Kurt’s exposed skin just plain gave me the creeps. He came over closer to us, spitting a wad of tobacco out on the ground. He stopped next to me as I got a whiff of sweat and that strange body spray he thought covered it up.

“You don’t have to get all mouthy. I truly feel bad for him. That damn daughter really messed up his life. I think the old bastard had it pretty good here.” Kurt let his eyes drift between us. “But I still can’t figure out why he always needed
two
of you in his apartment. Maybe that walker was just for show.”

“You really are an ass.” Blaire tossed the insult in his direction, mumbling more curse words under her breath as she headed for the stairs. I didn’t say anything and followed behind her to our apartment.

As I closed the door behind us, the explosion erupted from my sister. “
Shit!
I hate that man. And I’m counting down the days until I never have to see his nasty face again or hear his fucking voice or smell whatever dead rat he rubs on his skin.”

“I know.”

“I mean, seriously. What shitty apartment owner lets that crazy pervert run this place?” Blaire was pacing back and forth in the living room. At this rate, we would owe Kurt new carpet when we moved out.

“Probably his father.”

“You think? Maybe it’s his mother. Because I think he has a face that only Norman Bate’s mama would love.” She stopped mid-step, gripping her fists. “It’s so damn frustrating because I don’t remember Kurt being that bad when we signed the lease.”

“All you remember is the discount. Admit it.”

“Fine. Whatever. I’m taking a nap.” Blaire’s pacing feet carried her out of the room.

I knew that was code for chatting online with M-Attack815. She hated naps. Even as kids, my mom would force us to lie in bed and I would be asleep in minutes. And Blaire would get up, moving all around the room, which was the beginning of her pacing issues.

I went in the kitchen, peering out the curtain to the parking lot. My eyes stayed glued for his whereabouts. I wanted to make sure Kurt was minding his own business, and then I saw him, carrying a dog crate as he walked toward the office. A few seconds later, he came out empty-handed and went around the corner. My nerves tightened as his old truck pulled out of the complex.

I turned around, looking at Blaire’s door. She wouldn’t approve. So I wouldn’t tell her. Grabbing my keys, I shoved them down in my jeans pocket. I sneaked outside, shutting the apartment door softly behind me.

I ran quickly across the open parking lot, trying the knob on the manager’s door. It was locked. Checking around the corner, I saw the small window that overlooked the area where Kurt normally parked his truck. My heart beat fast in my chest, making the adrenaline course through my body. I looked down the driveway several times, seeing no sign of the man coming back. Taking a deep breath, I ran over to the window.

Peering through the dirty glass, I saw the crate sitting next to the wall. I tried the edge of the window and it pushed up without any effort. I climbed inside, knocking a spit cup of tobacco off his desk and all over the floor. I stepped around the brown sludge and knelt next to the metal door of the crate.

A face peered back at me, followed by another pair of brown eyes in the black shadows. The smell of rancid urine burned my nose and trickled down the back of my throat, making me gag. I didn’t know how long the puppies had been inside the box, but the stench indicated it could have been several weeks.

Going back to the window, I listened for the sound of his truck pipes. My hands were shaking as the thoughts battled around in my head. I wanted to take the puppies. I wanted to drive straight out to the kennel and give them to Wyatt, just like I’d done with Charlie.

The terrible feeling churned stronger in my stomach. Kurt might be a mouthy pervert, but he wasn’t stupid. I wasn’t sure if I could fool him a second time around. Not that I really did the first time. He had just chosen to harass me with leering comments instead of calling the police.

Glancing back over my shoulder, the two faces were no longer visible. They had slunk back out of view. I went to the front of the office, unlocking the door and propping it open so we could make a run for it. I noticed a sweatshirt in the corner of the junky office. Picking it up, I made my way back over to the crate.

Opening the little door, I pulled the first one out. It was some sort of bird dog. He didn’t put up a fight. Neglect did that sort of thing to a dog. His entire stomach was caked in a layer of dried poop from sleeping in the filthy bottom of the crate.

I paused for a moment, waiting to see if I heard the sound of his truck. Kurt might be gone for hours or he could’ve run to the gas station for more tobacco and be back any second. Hearing nothing but silence, I reached in the back, grabbing the second one. The little puppy let out a yelp when I pulled it across the bottom of the crate. Once I got it out in the light, the tiny animal shrank back in fear, letting out another cry. The poor thing was terrified of me. Tucking the second one in the sweatshirt, I held the dogs close to my chest, feeling their trembling bodies.

My heart pounded hard as the beats echoed in my ears. It was now or never. I needed to take the puppies and face the wrath of Kurt later. Standing up, my legs went wobbly as I left the office. My head whipped around in every direction as I made my way to the car. I put the little puppies in the passenger’s seat and then climbed in the driver’s side.

I pulled out of the apartment complex, trying not to draw attention. Once on the main road, I passed every car and even ran one stoplight. I just needed to get out of town. I just needed to get to Wyatt.

My thoughts tumbled around, overlapping and twisting up. Kurt would flip out when he returned to find them missing. I didn’t know what that crazy man had planned to do with these puppies. Those thoughts were vivid and wild as my foot pressed harder on the gas, making the tires fishtail on the dirt road. Matter of fact, I never had figured out why he had Charlie.

I reached the entrance, skidding to a stop in the dirt. Jumping out, I pushed open the silver gate, not bothering to even latch it back shut. I drove fast across the beat-down grass trail until I reached the kennel. Hearing my erratic arrival, Wyatt came running out of the kennel door. I jumped out of the driver’s side. He caught me before I could get the passenger’s door open.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” His hands grabbed my waist, pulling me close to his chest. And then he backed away. “Shit, you stink. Like shit.”

“I know. I’ve got these two puppies in the car.” My words came in frantic pants. “Help me get them out.”

“Whoa. What’s going on?”

“I had to save them. I didn’t know what he was going to do with them.”

“Save them from who?”

“Kurt. Mr. Hughes left, and Kurt was saying weird stuff.” I struggled to catch my breath. “And then I saw him carry another crate in. And so I waited for him to leave. And I took them.”

“And he doesn’t know you took them?”

“No,” I whispered, wincing at the look on his face.

“You stole your apartment manager’s dogs . . . and brought them
here
?”

“Technically, yes.”

His hand went up, running his fingers through the short pieces of hair. “Shit, Emma. You have to take them back.”

“
What!
Why? I thought that’s what this place was for. I thought you would be glad that I helped them.”

“You can’t just steal dogs from people. Maybe if we talked to Diana, she could get some sort of order to take them away. But until then, you have to take them back.”

My heart froze, hearing his words. “You need to see them. They are so little and covered in their own poop. He’s not even
feeding
them.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t like this either. But I’m in a very awkward situation here with this place. I would do anything for you, Emma. You know that.” His hands pulled me closer even though I smelled something awful. “I wish I could take them in. But if I let you leave stolen dogs here, this could backfire on all of us. Including Diana.”

Panic filled every pore of my skin. In that moment, I realized Wyatt had no clue about Charlie. Our first meeting had been sporadic and strange. By the time things had leveled out, I’d forgotten to tell him the circumstances involving Charlie. I didn’t really see a reason, I guess—until now.

“Hey, don’t get all upset. No harm done yet.”

He kissed me, but it didn’t make anything in my body feel good. A cloud of fear penetrated every thought. I would have to face Kurt if I didn’t get to moving. “I better go. Maybe I can get them back before he notices the puppies are gone.”

Wyatt kissed my forehead, letting his lips rest gently against my skin. “I wish I could take them back for you.”

“I know.” And that was the truth. He would walk through fire for me and swim through lava and sneak dogs back into the office of my dog-abusing landlord. And maybe one day, he would have the chance.

“Will it be hard?” The concern etched around his eyes.

My thoughts went back to how I’d left Kurt’s office. Returning the dogs back to the original spot,
undetected
, seemed virtually impossible.

“It will be okay.” I lied to Wyatt. If Kurt got back before me, then I would just have to think of something. Maybe I could turn the puppies loose outside his door and hope for the best. Maybe he would be pacified enough with just getting them back. Or maybe he would meet me in the parking lot before I ever got out of my car. The image of his leering face made me shiver in the cold air.

“Here, let me see them before you go.” His warm hands released my body. I followed Wyatt to the passenger’s side as he slowly opened the door. The two puppies were curled up around each other asleep in the old sweatshirt. “Damn. That smell is terrible.”

“I know.”

Wyatt ran a hand over the skinnier one. His terrified eyes opened, peering back as his body visibly trembled. “These are some pretty expensive bird dogs. Does your landlord hunt?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Well, they seem okay. No broken bones. They just need food and a bath to get rid of all that shit.”

“But he keeps them locked in a filthy crate.”

“Not ideal, but it’s probably not enough to get them taken away. You better get the pups back.” Wyatt stood up, shutting the door. The sound of a car filled the quiet air. We both turned in the direction of the dirty cloud coming up the grass path. The dim light of early evening prevented us from seeing much of the vehicle until the pickup was almost to the trailer. My stomach clenched into a spastic knot as the blood drained from my head.

“It’s . . . it’s . . . h-him,” I stuttered.

“Who?”

“Kurt. I-I don’t. I don’t understand.” My thoughts spun wildly. I couldn’t figure out how he’d found me out here. Kurt must have followed me. Nothing made sense. But the fear was real.
So very real.
I tasted it on my tongue. I felt it burning under my skin. This wasn’t some strange comment tossed out in the parking lot. Kurt had
followed
me to Wyatt’s.

“The dog owner?” Wyatt’s low voice was hard to hear.

“
Yes
,” I hissed.

“Just go get in the trailer. Let me handle it.”

I thought about his suggestion for about half a second before running through the old door. Peering through the thick curtains, I waited for Kurt to arrive. I couldn’t breathe. The anxiety had me twisted in knots. It engulfed every piece of my senses.