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Epilogue - 1
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2024-10-29 19:42:56Three months. His scar was still red and angry. Jackson’s therapist was great. Really. He knew any body image issues he might have were something he’d get over with enough time, but for now, staring at the angry red skin that marked where his arm should be… He felt a stupid mixture of embarassment, shame, and disgust.
Jackson was pale. He’d always been pale. He’d never had an issue with it before, but now, the paleness of his skin made the scar look all the more alarming. The knock on the door startled him and he realized he’d been standing there for a little too long.
“Just a second,” he called. The shirt was still a struggle to get on, but he was getting quicker every time. Jeans were a no go since he couldn’t button them one handed so he spent all of his time in sweatpants. Sweats were comfortable, but they were just another reminder of what he couldn’t do anymore. What he didn’t have anymore.
The empty sleeve hung limp over his shoulder. Jackson turned hi
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Six months of therapy and rehab and sympathetic looks and Jackson was sick of it. He was tired of living in the hotel. He was tired of nonstop people. Nonstop sound. Nonstop everything. For a moment, he considered asking Wren if Wren would want to move in with Grandma Rose and Grandpa Frank. Then he realized what they could do. What they had the means to do.Wren stepped into their room. He was sweaty from the run with Zain. His dark hair stuck to the back of his neck despite the ponytail’s effort to keep it off. Jackson pushed his laptop to the side and rose up on his knees.Wren leaned forward for a kiss and Jackson pulled him in closer with his arm around Wren’s neck. Wren chuckled and gently disengaged. “What’s going on?”Jackson fell back and reached for his laptop again. He avoided eye contact as he pulled up the screen he had minimized. “I was just thinking that maybe it’s time we get a house? Just for the two of
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Nine months since he’d lost his arm and he and Wren were homeowners. Jackson laughed as he caught sight of the white flakes swirling in the wind outside the kitchen window. He opened the cabinet doors in search of the cocoa. Wren was starting a fire in the fireplace. The first snow of the year was later than normal and nothing more than barely there flurries. “Wren,” Jackson called from the kitchen.“Yeah?”“It’s snowing.” Jackson found the container. He braced it between the counter and his hip and used his hand to pry off the top. He mixed the chocolate into the hot milk, squeezed the excess out of Wren’s tea bag, placed both cups on his tray and carefully carried it into the living room. “Our first kiss was in the snow.”The fire was just starting to catch on the logs. Wren settled on the couch next to him and reached for his steaming mug on the coffee table. He tossed his other arm across Jack
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Jackson dug their big knife out of the drawer. He crushed and minced the garlic and scraped it to the side of the cutting board. “Wren?”“Yeah?”“Check the chicken.”There was a rattle behind him. Jackson turned to the carrots and started peeling them. The peeler was apparently a little loose and cocked the side after just two swipes. “Chicken’s good. Want me to adjust that?”“Nah, I got it.” Jackson straightened the peeler clamped on the edge of the counter. He tightened the grip and switched back to peeling the carrots. “Has anyone texted yet?”“Kia and Belle said they might be a little late. Otherwise, no.”Jackson glanced over. Wren was leaning his hip against the counter. His hair was loose around his shoulders. The sun beamed through their kitchen window and lit him in a warm light. Jackson set the half-peeled carrot down and stepped forward.
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Paul Smith’s face was beaded with sweat when he returned. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m afraid this particular set will be going up for auction this afternoon.”“What’s his value?”“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to say.”Jackson smiled at him, “Of course you’re not. Go back. Tell them I’ll double what he’s expected to bring in. Jackson Carmillan, just in case you didn’t know the name.” He didn’t hold out his hand for the introduction.“Yes, sir. I’ll be right back.”Jackson turned back to the cage. “C363M657.” The wolf tensed. “That’s a fucking mouthful. If you don’t have a name, think one up, otherwise I’m calling you Fido.”Nothing. Not a twitch of the lips to show humor or anger. No tensing. No relaxing. Jackson sighed and turned his back on the cage. He hated this goddamned p
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Jackson dug their big knife out of the drawer. He crushed and minced the garlic and scraped it to the side of the cutting board. “Wren?”“Yeah?”“Check the chicken.”There was a rattle behind him. Jackson turned to the carrots and started peeling them. The peeler was apparently a little loose and cocked the side after just two swipes. “Chicken’s good. Want me to adjust that?”“Nah, I got it.” Jackson straightened the peeler clamped on the edge of the counter. He tightened the grip and switched back to peeling the carrots. “Has anyone texted yet?”“Kia and Belle said they might be a little late. Otherwise, no.”Jackson glanced over. Wren was leaning his hip against the counter. His hair was loose around his shoulders. The sun beamed through their kitchen window and lit him in a warm light. Jackson set the half-peeled carrot down and stepped forward.
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Nine months since he’d lost his arm and he and Wren were homeowners. Jackson laughed as he caught sight of the white flakes swirling in the wind outside the kitchen window. He opened the cabinet doors in search of the cocoa. Wren was starting a fire in the fireplace. The first snow of the year was later than normal and nothing more than barely there flurries. “Wren,” Jackson called from the kitchen.“Yeah?”“It’s snowing.” Jackson found the container. He braced it between the counter and his hip and used his hand to pry off the top. He mixed the chocolate into the hot milk, squeezed the excess out of Wren’s tea bag, placed both cups on his tray and carefully carried it into the living room. “Our first kiss was in the snow.”The fire was just starting to catch on the logs. Wren settled on the couch next to him and reached for his steaming mug on the coffee table. He tossed his other arm across Jack
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About two hours after your shooting, all of the collars in Oconee stopped working.Jackson didn’t understand. “That’s not possible. I know the coding in those collars backward and forward. There are countless fail-safes. For them to just, stop working…” Jackson shook his head. He was already feeling tired again, but he pushed through. “Do we know what caused it?”“There was a statement put out from that Carmillan Collars PR lady that they were looking into what caused the problem, but that was three days ago. There’s been no word since.”Three days. “What day is it?”“You were shot four days ago. You’ve been in and out of consciousness but every time was only for a few seconds and you were pretty confused,” Kia said. “You mentioned geese a couple of times.”Jackson’s lips twitched in a reluctant smile. “I think I was dreaming of
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Jackson woke up confused. His brain was fuzzy and he couldn’t move. The ceiling was unfamiliar to him. It was white and speckled… like a quail egg. Jackson chuckled, but the laugh sounded wrong. He couldn’t stop though, because quails made him think of geese and geese made him think of Kia getting chased by the geese that lived in the pond.His chest heaved as he tried to stop laughing, then a sharp burst of pain stole the laughter from him. He gasped and closed his eyes.“Jackson!” That was Kia. Wasn’t she just chasing the geese? “Jackson! Wren, wake up.” There was a thump. Wren? Did she name the geese? Maybe he’d help her chase them…* * *Jackson opened his eyes to the quail egg ceiling. “Did you get the geese?” There was a weight across his legs that he hadn’t noticed until it was gone. He tried to turn his head, but his muscles didn’t want to work so he just closed
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They mingled. Jackson shook countless hands. Laughed with people as he passed them by. The crowd bubbled around him and let him through easily. Kia held tight to one hand as she pulled him forward through the crowd. “Come on!”She shoved him up onto a truck bed, then pushed him higher so he was standing on the cab. A megaphone was shoved in his hand. He gripped it tight and stood up straight. In the most surreal moment of his life, the crowd in front of him stilled and grew silent without a word from him. Hundreds of people. Thousands of people? A lot of people, quiet and staring at him. Jackson lifted his chin and raised his hand in a wave.“Are you ready?”There was a murmur of assent through the crowd.“Please, march quietly. We ask that this be a time to reflect. A time to ask ourselves what else we can do for those oppressed in Oconee. If you’re religious, use this time to pray for our neighbors. If you’re no
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Jackson couldn’t believe it. The sheer amount of people who had crammed their way into the small town near the border… He turned to Kia. “How did you do this?”Kia grinned. “The power of the internet… And your second interview was probably the main thing.”People in bright colors carrying signs of various messages milled about. The streets were packed. There were police officers out, some of them carried signs of their own.No More Collars. Freedom For All. No Rest Until We’re All Free.Jackson shook his head and stepped back from the window of his hotel room. “I can’t do this. I shouldn’t be the one speaking.”He heard the shower cut off. Kia leaned against him. “You’ve done so much more than this already, Jackson. Now you’re going to lead this march. You’re going to climb on that stage and you’re going to give that speech. Look out there
