Bounty

“Then don’t force them out into the cold while you go shopping or wander the park or whatever these people do with accessory dogs. Little bugger gets his or her walk and does his or her business then goes home to camp out in front of the fireplace or the furnace register. They need exercise, throw a damn toy for them in the living room. Don’t dress them in a ridiculous sweater and make them prance through snow that’s taller than them. It’s undignified and inhumane.”

Little dog sweaters, inhumane.

Deke kept grinning as he teased, “Do you need more caffeine?”

“No, talking about this, I think I need a little dog, without the sweater.”

He glanced at her again, no longer grinning. “Babe, you get a dog, that dog has a bark that’ll scare the shit outta Ty. Not a dog that’s yappy and wouldn’t scare the shit out of Vivie.”

“I’ll get one of both,” she decreed.

“That’s acceptable,” he muttered.

There was a beat of silence before she asked, “Is there a dog that’ll scare the shit outta Ty?”

“Maybe, that dog is a wolf, but even then, not sure that’d do it,” he answered through his phone ringing.

He leaned forward to go after it in his back pocket and as he did it was not lost on him he was having a ridiculous conversation about dog sweaters.

It further was not lost on him that he didn’t care because on the other end of that conversation was Jussy.

He checked the display on his phone. It said Tate Calling so he took it and put it to his ear.

“Yo, Tate.”

“Yo. Where are you?”

“On the way to the trailer to dump the tanks then we’re headin’ to Krys and Bubba’s. Why?”

“Brunch is cancelled, brother,” Tate said in a tone that had Deke’s shoulders straightening. Tate didn’t keep him waiting. “Krys went into labor about an hour ago, water broke, everything. She and Bubba are at County now.”

“Fuck,” Deke murmured. “What is she—?”

“This happens now, five weeks preemie,” Tate answered the question Deke didn’t get out.

“Fuck,” Deke repeated.

“Laurie and me are walking out the door, headed to County,” Tate told him.

“We drop the tanks, so are me and Jussy.”

“See you there,” Tate said. “Later.”

“Later, brother,” Deke replied, lowered the phone and felt Jussy’s vibe that was a response to Deke’s vibe.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Krys went into labor, baby. We gotta drop these tanks and get to the hospital.”

“Shit,” she whispered.

“It’s gonna be good,” he assured her.

“She’s not even in her eighth month.”

“It’s gonna be good, Jussy.”

She shut up.

Deke drove.

But he did it reaching for her hand, clasping it firm in his and holding both to his thigh.

He’d had women in his life, some with minimal staying power.

But since he was a lot younger, he’d not once held one of their hands.

Jussy’s little hand in his felt made to be there too.

That wasn’t lost on Deke either.

And he didn’t mind it at all.

* * * * *

Deke didn’t walk into the hospital room.

Jussy didn’t either.

They stood arms around each other at the door to give Bubba the knowledge they were there with the intent to leave and hit the waiting room.

Lauren was also there, in the room with Bub and Krys. They’d seen Tate out in the waiting room, phone to his ear, making the calls.

Krys didn’t look good, hair wet from sweat, makeup-free face red and pinched with pain or worry.

What she did do was take one look at Jussy and snap, “Get over here.”

Jussy didn’t take her eyes off Krys as she let Deke go and got over there.

The second she got close on the opposite side of the bed from where Bubba was standing like he was a guard, not an expectant husband, Krys grabbed Justice’s hand in a grip that even from his distance, Deke could see was fierce.

She reached up with her other hand, and as Jussy bent toward her, she clapped it at the back of Jussy’s head and pulled her straight in Krys’s face.

Deke tensed and through it, moved into the room.

Lauren gave him a look that said be cool. Bubba didn’t look at him at all, his full attention was on his woman in that bed.

Deke stopped close behind Jussy, seeing her head go up and down in Krys’s hold, an indication of an affirmative to something Krys was saying, her hand gripping Krystal’s just as tight as Krys had hers.

“Yes.” He heard Jussy say. “Nothing’s changed from our time in the Camaro, sister. You got this, Krys. You got it, beautiful.”

“I got it,” Krys replied, her voice weaker than Deke had ever heard.

“You got it,” Jussy said, her voice stronger than he’d ever heard.

Nothing came after that for some time before Jussy told her, “We’re not going anywhere. We’ll be right outside with Tate. You got this. Give your man a pretty baby.”

This gave Krys her cue to let Jussy go, something she did.

When she did, Deke moved in to claim her, wrapping an arm around her belly and pulling her back into him, but not taking her from Krys’s space.

Krys looked to him, to Jussy, to him and then to Bubba.

“We are not havin’ another kid,” Bubba said before she could open her mouth.

His anxiety was clear in voice, expression and posture.

“Need an ice chip, baby,” Krys said quietly, some, not all of the weak out of her tone.