The Shepherd (The Game 6) - Page 13

Since the dogs were outside, it meant Katie was here. If her elder sister had done a good job watching my dogs before, Katie was all that and more. She wanted to be a veterinarian one day and probably spent more time with my dogs than she did with her friends. She usually did her homework on the porch, but I couldn’t see her there now.

It was nearing chow time for the dogs, so she could be in the kitchen.

Rex came over to greet me as I headed up the path, and I patted his head. “What’s the status, my boy? Everyone good today? No raisin’ hell?”

He soaked up the attention and barked before returning to Jason.

I sighed contentedly and trailed up the porch steps. No words were strong enough to describe how good it felt to have everyone here for the weekend.

It was getting too cold for T-shirt weather, but it was never too cold for a barbecue in the backyard. Between helping the kids get settled in their rooms upstairs, arranging for a movie-marathon-themed sick bay on the couch for Loki, chatting with Katie while we fed the dogs, and bringing out fixings and the meat I’d marinated overnight, an hour went by during which Sloan and I barely exchanged a word.

We worked like a well-oiled machine. I loved the routines we’d naturally fallen into after he and Carol got divorced. When it was Sloan’s week with the children, we met up at least once and did our own thing, whether I just stopped by with pizza at their place or they came out here to spend the whole weekend with me.

After dinner, I was the most content I’d been in ages. From my spot on the porch behind the house, I heard the TV running inside, feet stomping upstairs as Emma-Jo and Jamie played, and Sloan helping a cranky Loki into his pajamas.

I took a swig of my beer.

Sloan came out a beat later and slumped down in his seat across from me, elbows on the table, head bowed, hands in his hair.

He was so fucking tired. Why couldn’t he see? Why did he insist on doing this alone when he didn’t have to?

“When was the last time you slept well?” I asked.

He blew out a breath. “I don’t know.”

He kept saying this was temporary, but I didn’t see what could change. Other than Carol leaving and Sloan shouldering even more. I mean, I assumed child support was going to be involved when she started working in Chicago. Money appeared to be the only subject they handled well, ironically. But he used his weeks away from the kids to work around the clock. Mechanic by day, tattoo artist by night. Then regular full time when he had the kids.

“What’s your rent?” I asked next.

He chuckled tiredly. “You don’t wanna know, and you can stop being all you, Shepherd.”

I could take a hint. He’d nicknamed me Shepherd years ago because apparently I was always trying to herd my people together. I took it as a compliment and chose not to take that hint.

“Tell me,” I pressed.

He’d given up his car a few months ago because he could no longer afford insurance.

No matter how miserable he and Carol had been together, I understood why he’d hesitated to divorce her. Together, they’d been able to get by at least.

He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, where he’d had a piercing not long ago. He used to have plenty of steel. He used to have a rocker’s style about him, but he’d lost the energy to care.

“We’re not moving out here.”

“Give me one reason,” I demanded.

He drew a deep breath and closed his eyes. I was getting on his nerves, but I just had to know. I had to understand. My best friend wasn’t even forty; it was way too early for him to let go.

“I can’t even imagine picking that fight with Carol,” he said.

“I can do it,” I offered with a smirk.

He snorted and reached for his beer. “She hates you.”

I smiled. “It’s mutual.”

Well. Hate was a strong word. I nothing’d her. I bore resentment.

Sloan wasn’t an angel. Far from it. He wasn’t without fault in this mess. He and Carol had shared an almost toxic relationship neither of them had been able to walk away from for too long. And they’d kept spitting out kids. And he had clung to their plan. Every rough patch they’d hit had been, in his words, temporary. Because as soon as he could get a higher-paying job, all their problems would be magically fixed.

How was that working out for him?

With that said, there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for those children. He loved them so much. He’d rather starve than stop paying for swim lessons and soccer practice.

Stubborn fool.

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