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When I was living in El Paso with my mother before she remarried, I acquired a certain love for Mexican food. Fajitas, enchiladas, chile relleno (a personal favorite), flautas, churros, tacos, all of it.

The next place my group and I would hop over to would most definitely be the restaurant next to this clinic. The founders named her "Rosa's Cantina," and met in El Paso, according to the dedication plaque on the door. I could catch an ancient, heavenly and residual scent of delicious chimichangas being wrapped and drowned in queso, each one stuffed with shredded grilled chicken. Purely mouth-watering.

After we had finished clearing the first hallway, we went down to the last room in the entire office: the surgery. I told everyone else to stack up behind me, before I lifted up my rifle, then my left leg, and thrusted it at the locked doors. They instantly cracked open, and immediately, a foul, offensive stench slapped me in the face. The scene before us is one not unlike what we've all seen up to now-- gurneys were flipped over, blood spattered across the walls, the carcass of a feline nurse lay draped over a desk, half of her face eaten off and one of her arms missing. In one corner of the room, there sat the rotting corpse of an otter, not much larger than Derick. That same person had to turn and wretch. The corpse turned out not to be completely dead, and without thinking, I charged at it with my bayonet, piercing it right through its missing left eye.

I yanked the blade out, wiping it on the deceased ostelid's worn and torn pants, before turning to Bruce. "Guess you don't have to worry about that cat after all," I grunted, and he did the same in return as I shoved him out of my way.

We were out of the clinic almost as quickly as we had entered. Getting the door of Rose's open was a little trickier, seeing as how it actually locked, unlike the dental clinic's door. I decided to borrow Derick's prybar and wrench the damn thing open. After handing it back to him, I took the first step inside, shattered glass crunching beneath my boots. Someone had thrown a drinking glass or a cup of some sort and it must have exploded all over the floor. Felice tapped my shoulder, pointing to the back. He clearly spotted something none of us had, and had his Walther up. I was following him back to the kitchen, when suddenly, I heard the sizzling of meat on a grill. I pushed open the two-way door to the kitchen with my bayonet, letting Felice walk past me.

We came upon a jaguar in the far corner of the scullery, sauteing bell peppers and onions. The vegetables sizzled on the pan. The big cat stirred them around with a wooden spoon, glancing up at us momentarily. "I wondered if I'd be having guests any time soon." His accent was thick and very Hispanic indeed, carrying a sexy rolling of the r's and a slick flick of the tongue now and then. I did have a thing for sleek jungle cats, after all-- not that Felice needed to know.

"The restaurant," I mumbled, looking up to catch his gaze. "It's as clean as the office next door. Did you..." I looked around the kitchen, finding that its neatness was near perfection. It was as if the only fluke in the entire establishment was the shattered glass.

"I did," he replied humbly. "That glass in the front was from when I got angry at myself for messing up my dinner." I raised a brow, chuckling softly. "I'm an angry cook, you could say. I don't accept mistakes."

Felice, sitting on an empty counter, asked, "You own the place?" The jag nodded solemnly.

"It was passed down to me from my fathers. They opened it when they moved here from El Paso. They met in their twenties... Saw each other across the Rio Grande one day, one on the Texas side, the other in Juarez." He turned the heat off on the stove and moved the pan to a cool burner. Reaching into a cabinet above his head, the jaguar grabbed himself a labeless bag of tortillas. "They opened this restaurant not long after I was born. They decided to name it after my surrogate mother, in return for bearing me."

I set my rifle down next to my husband. "What's your name?" I asked him softly.

He out a plate with two tortillas on it, and a box of fresh mushrooms-- again, no labels. After rolling himself two vegetable burritos, he turned around, leaning against the counter. "Victor," he said coolly, holding out his right paw. "Victor Villanueva." I graciously shook hands with him and could swear that if I hadn't had fur, I'd have a very obvious blush. Felice, of course, was not pleased in the least sense.

I nodded in response, telling him, "I'm Jack Taylor. The punk on the counter," I said slyly, winking at the ratty-haired Crestie, "is my husband, Felice. You been here the whole time?"

"Si," Victor said. "I grow my own vegetables in the garden behind the building. I haven't been able to get any fresh livestock, so I've been using preserved meats-- or, oftentimes, none at all, relying on vegetables for a protein source. Needless to say," he shrugged, "it's been rather harsh on my bowels, but I'm adjusting. I even have to use formulated egg replacements!"

"A vegan cat," my husband mused, hopping off the counter. "Well, that's all fine and dandy, but lemme tell you something." He got up Victor's face, snarling. "Stay away from my husband, yeah?"

The jaguar shrugged, clearly not understanding the hostility. "I'm not interested in your husband, handsome as he may be." Felice scoffed, blowing a few stray locks of hair out of his face before walking off.

"I'm really sorry about that," I told the jaguar. "My husband's not the kindest person in the world, and he's a little paranoid about me being around others, as if he's afraid they'll take me away from him."

Victor just shrugged again, as if it didn't even matter, telling me, "Well, you've got nothing to worry about, amigo. I'm still coping with the loss of my own mate. I'm just trying to be a hospitable host is all. And I try not to let my anger or insecurities get the best of me, either." He folded his arms, leaning against the stove, looking calm and quiet.

"Well," I exhaled, "I guess Felice has too many of those to bother hiding it. But it's okay. He's a good lay and quite the romantic, so I suppose it's worth it."

"Ese, finding the right love is like trying to find the perfect jalapeno; you can't always judge it by its color or its shape. Sometimes, the ugliest, most misshapen pepper could have the freshest, sweetest, and most burning taste, while the most beautiful could be the most bland as well. Remember that."

I nodded gently, but spoke up, saying, "That's probably true, but my husband's definitely one of the best peppers I've ever tried." I turned on my heels, grabbing my rifle before walking out of the kitchen with Victor following me. Mack and Bruce looked up at the new face, and I nudged the feline, telling him, "Watch out for the bulldog, Bruce. He doesn't like cats."

"Stereotypical dog," Vic said. Mack stood from the booth the two were seated at, standing before Victor. I hadn't realized before that the cat and I were almost identical in size, to be perfectly frank. Mack held out his right hand, making acquaintance with the jaguar. "Victor."

"Mack," the huge quarter horse replied, giving Victor a firm handshake. "I take it you're the one who was making that veggie stir fry, right?" The big cat nodded solemnly. "You still got some of that?" Victor held out his last burrito and told Mack that he had lost his appetite for no apparent reason. The horse thanked him and, essentially, took the whole thing in his mouth in one bite. Suddenly, a rather lewd thought popped into my head, which was quickly dashed when Felice grabbed me by the wrist rather firmly. Normally, I would've panicked, but Felice is, so far, the only person in my life whom I've ever given permission to grab my wrists.

The hairless dog was dragging me by my arm, out the back entrance of the restaurant, out to the fenced-in garden. He wrenched me over to the citrus trees, threw me up against one with my back to it, and leaned up to press a kiss right onto my lips. I couldn't help but just melt right into it, because he was just so damn persuasive.

He was instantly grabbing at my belt buckle, unstrapping it and letting my uniform pants drop to my ankles. The Crestie got an eye on his prize, dropping to his knees to give my sheath a tentative lick. I reached to scratch behind his ear with my left paw while he grabbed around my covered, unaroused member with his paws and, with an expert movement of his pink appendage, stuck his slimy warm tongue right down my sheath, stretching it out significantly and letting his raspy taster hug against my now hardening shaft.

Needless to say, the sensations vibrating through me were... astronomical. I couldn't help but shake and shiver while my husband grabbed me by both butt cheeks firmly, while his mouth and tongue went to work to coax my angry red cock out of its protective cover. "F-ffff ooooh god." I let my long, flat tongue roll out of my mouth while I panted heavily. Felice was clearly pleased with the reaction he was getting out of me, based on the devious little twinkle in his eye.

My lover took one paw off my rump to start fondling my jewels, squeezing them at some points. With my back supported by the tree, I involuntarily lifted my left leg, thumping it through thin air without much control over myself as the beautiful little dog started dragging his tongue along the bottom of my now completely erect and demanding wang. I ran all of my left fingers through his long, luscious auburn locks, sweeping his bangs over one eye, just the way I always liked to see him-- made it look like he'd just had the pounding of his life. Not that that would be far from the truth soon.

Felice had to actually scoot back some just to compensate for my enormous size. His lips were now level with my schlong, and just to tease, he gave the plump head a cute little kiss, winking at the same time. I licked my upper lip and bit my lower. Deciding to take a little initiative and show him just how much I really wanted him, I forced open his maw by squeezing the flesh between either mandible with my right paw and gripped a huge mop of his mane with my left, and shoved his entire head down. Already I could feel the tip of my rammer pressing against the back of throat-- Felice couldn't take all of me, after all. Hell, most people can't, since, like most canine splices, I've got a bone in my dick.

His eyes were starting to water some as his relatively tiny gag reflex started reacting. Felice's warm, slick tongue did its best to wrap around my length, which proved quite successful in eliciting a massive, uncontrollable quiver in my hips. I bucked forward, forcing the smaller dog to take just a little more. He pulled back about three or four inches, bobbed back down, and then pulled all the way off, a single strand of his saliva mixed with my pre being the only thing keeping us together down there. Instantly, that tingling that vibrated from the tip of my love muscle all the way to my hips faded.

"Wait, what?" I mumbled in a disappointed manner. "Why'd ya stop?" I could feel my cheeks burning, and suddenly I was craving for him to take just another lick, at least.

"Because," he grinned, standing up and turning around to grind his ass against my exposed schlong. "You know where I really want it, don't you, big guy?" His head was half-cocked just so he could show me a little devilish wink. Instantly, I cracked a slow, wry smirk before hooking my thumbs around his loose-fitting jeans and yanking them down to his ankles. I was quick to get the two of us turned around to where he was facing the tree beforehand, though.

With his plump, rather-feminine butt wonderfully presented to me, I licked my right thumb, getting it lathered in my slick drivel, while pulling apart his cheeks with my other thumb, pressing the wet one against his tight pucker to wet it some.

Deciding to hurry up while my dick was still dripping with his spit, I pressed the head against his anal entrance, squeezed both hips firmly, and just... shoved the first five inches in. Felice suddenly gasped, his eyes widening before fluttering a few times and gently closing, as if he'd discovered true ecstasy all over again.

I decided to tenderly keep pushing, stopping at my partially-inflated bulbous. With Felice's hips and thighs lifted wheelbarrow style, I could now use just my hip power to pile-drive him into the trunk of the orange tree. I drew back several inches, holding a mostly one-sided grin, before throwing all of my weight back into my husband's squeezing hole. He grunted, glancing back momentarily before looking forward again. I repeated my motions, eliciting a labored, feminine yip before pulling and thrusting again and again, each time getting nearly the same response.

His insides pressed around every last square inch of my throbbing shaft, gently massaging it with their soothing, velvety texture. Felice let out a soft, pained but pleased moan of his approval as each thrust gained in speed, force and decisiveness. Somehow, I could detect the familiar, burning, anxious feeling of being watched. A single stray drop of sweat rolled from my hairline down to my left brow, which I wiped with the according paw, quick as I could before assuming my grip on Felice's lean, toned thigh. Each yip, yap, whine and whimper he gave served as more encouragement for me to just get even rougher with this beautiful piece of meat I had sporting between my legs. "Don't stop," I heard him breathe as best he could. I grunted, which was all he needed to assure him.

As strange as it was, to just be suddenly doing it, right here, right now of all places, it also felt... right. Like it was just meant to happen, like it needed to happen. The entire group could be watching us, and I wouldn't even care. In a way, this was a show of also how capable I was, along with just how far I would go to show everyone that Felice was mine, and mine alone.

I could feel his guts starting to squeeze tighter around me, as if he was trying to hold me in, refusing to let go. I was still able to slide my cock in and out, but it would require a little extra effort. This dog taking my meat, of course, was in absolute heaven, and I was certainly right there with him every step of the way.

The faint sound of the back door scraping the threshold as it opened sounded, and I knew for sure now that we had company. I didn't care to look back though; I was much too focused on putting bruises all over my husband's insides.

It was then that Mack whistled, slow and smooth. "You two had that in ya all this time? Damn, shoulda made you wait even longer, y'all woulda been like a damn nuke soon as ya touched!" I huffed a huge breath through the nostrils of my snout, glaring back at the huge horse for a split second.

"G-glad you're e-e-enjoying the show," Felice said shakily, before giving me low, exasperated moan and butting his head against the trunk of the tree. I started digging my claws into his hips while kept him in wheelbarrow position.

Mack was nodding, quirking an eyebrow while walking over to us. "I think I very much enjoy what I see," he responded, squatting to level himself with my husband while I continued domineering the little guy. "He's pretty big, ain't he? He ever get too rough with you?"

"No such thing with this punk," I snorted, channeling every last bit of fury I had bottling in me towards Felice's sweet, slick insides. I could feel myself getting close; the pressure was building up to almost unbearable levels in my loins, but I soldiered on, determined to climax as late as I could manage.

"How long do you think he can keep going?" Mack pressed.

To that, Felice mumbled, "Ohhh, he can keep going for as long as he likes."

The giant chuckled, stood, and gave me a playful smack on the ass. "Keep 'em going, stud. I'll be around if you need help getting unstuck, just holler." He went past me and back inside, failing to close the door behind himself, instead leaving it wide open.

Felice, obviously enjoying himself, had one side of his face pressed against the scratchy tree bark, with the other side turned to face me. He gave me a soft wink, licking his lips as I kept pounding into him. "You're doin' fantastic, love." I nodded faintly, my strength never wavering as pure adrenaline coursed through my muscles, while my instincts begged me to get even rougher with him, show him who's the bitch on the bottom and who's top dog.

Naturally, I did just that.

For a brief, lightning-quick moment-- and I've had my fair share of such speed and decisiveness-- I reached forward, releasing my new chew-toy's thigh's and instead grappling his hips, lifting him away from the tree and turning to drop him onto the grass, deciding to see if his reflexes were in order enough to let him catch himself while I reassumed my hold of the skinny nipper's legs. At this point, Felice was pointed at a downward angle, roughly forty degrees away from having his snout touching my ankles. I slowly inched my paws up to his hips, letting his feet fall to the ground so he could support himself. With the hairless dog bent almost completely over like this, his rump was perfectly presented and his tight hole couldn't help but pucker even tighter as I resumed forcing my beet-red dong back up his insides-- or would it be down this time?

Fel's eyes fluttered momentarily, before the auburn-maned closed the gap between us by reaching his face forward and latching his dagger-like teeth onto my left shin. With all the blood rushing so quickly through me, I felt as if that pain was meaningless in the grand scheme of things and ignored it without much thought, focusing all my time and energy on simply rutting this little fucker for as long as it took, even if it killed him. My brain had gone full instinctual, feral, primal, animal mode, and I frankly didn't give two shits about his feelings, physical or emotional. All I cared about was spattering his insides with my hot jizm.

He was screaming, now. Not too loud, but it was enough for me to know that he was definitely in pain. I had lost control of myself. I snapped back for a split second, back into reality, but looking down between my legs and his ass, I could see the dreamy, high-if-I-didn't- know-better expression written all over his beautiful face. Of course, I was back into animal mode, hell-bent on just fucking his brains out. The initial tingling at the base of my dick went from that to now this piercing, never-ending jolt that echoed back and forth, again and again and again throughout my entire pelvis, in perfect time with my each individual thrust.

Something happened. Somewhere along the line, I lost myself completely, and heard this squelching, slick pop, and suddenly I was feeling absolute bliss, and could no longer keep my eyes open. Gritting my teeth, I knew the time was right. The pressure was building to insurmountably high proportions, with even more added to the back of my pulsing, enormous four-inch wide knot. At long last, I completely bottomed out, sinking every last inch down his gut and just let it rain.

Thick, ropey, creamy strands were spurting out and evenly coating every last inch of insides, every last drop held in by the air-tight seal my knot and his tourniquet-tight ass provided. I tried counting each individual shot, one, three, eight, and I lost it, all of myself completely lost in absolute, dream-fulfilling, ecstatic, body-melting pleasure.

It took several moments for to finally calm down enough to catch my breath, each one coming out like a ten-ton pant at the speed of light. My coat was nearly dripping with sweat, something that hadn't quite been eliminated from the gene sequence, and Felice had finally shot his soapy-white seed all over the trunk of the orange tree. Looking down, it wasn't hard to tell I was firmly stuck inside of my husband. Not that I minded, just that it may prove to be a dangerous situation considering my knot usually doesn't go down for at least half an hour, and while I was currently in no hurry to free myself from Felice's oven-hot insides, I was a might bit concerned that something could spring up.

Felice, glancing back, mumbled, "You're feeling a little bit bigger than normal."

I shrugged, clicking my tongue. "Guess my body is trying to tell you it really likes you. I know I really like you, but looks like I've got some interesting ways of expressing it."

The hairless dog nodded in agreement, before speaking again. "I think maybe if we just," he grunted, trying to twist himself around. "Get me turned over to face you, this might be a bit easier."

"What," I asked, "So I can just carry you on my hips?"

"Yeah!" he grinned excitedly. "I cover your ass, you fill mine."

"Hah hah," I droned, with my partner flush against my crotch. "I don't know that that we could really make that work, all things considered, unless we faced away from each other, not towards." Felice, of course, had to think for a moment in order to contemplate what it would take before going along with me.

A different voice made itself heard, speaking from the door that Mack had purposefully left open. It was Victor's, no doubt. He must've been addressing Felice, seeing as how it sounded rather hostile. "I don't suppose this is you trying to, uh... what was the phrase... 'show me your ass'?"

If I hadn't been firmly stuffed in my husband's ass-- or rather, if he hadn't remembered it was indeed me-- I don't doubt that the irritable little dog would've pounced at the jaguar. Victor was shaking his head, clearly disappointed-- not with Felice, but with me. It was as if he was judging me for my choice in a mate. Sure, I won't deny it, my husband's rather vain, and he's easily aggravated, but that's not for someone other than myself to say.

"Victor," I call. "If you've got something you want to say to him, you can say it to me too. For your information," I sassed, "this was just me acting on my primal urges. Either way, it's not your place, even as our host, to judge us unless it directly affects you."

Considering this, the jungle cat nodded. "I won't disagree it, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. You have more potential, Jack. Don't let this selfish, hairless little rat-dog thing try to keep you where he likes you. You'll regret it. I know you are a free spirit, I can see it in your eyes, but this immature pendejo wants to keep you in his grip." I could sense Felice clenching around the space behind my knot, and I personally began tightening my grip until my claws dug so far into Fel's skin that he began to bleed.

"You sure you wanna stick by what you believe, Vic?" I asked with my teeth gritted.

"Si, ese, I will firmly stand by it, and I'll be DAMNED if that dog hurts you!"

"Why do you care?" I sighed, eyeing him with the utmost confusion. At that moment, it looked as if I had caught Victor off guard. Defeated, and disgusted, the jag went back inside, slamming the door behind him.

Felice rested his paws on mine, doing his best to ease my grapple. "Don't listen to him none, love. He don't know what he's talkin' about."

"I know," I assured him, kissing the back of his neck as if nothing had happened. "Not like I would care anyway." Abruptly, changing my tone of voice, I told Felice, "You know I love you, right?"

"Of course!" he exclaimed, bobbing his head fervently before lifting my scarred-up, calloused paws and kissing their rough pads. "Of course, Jack... And I love you more than death itself."

I rolled my eyes, mumbling, "Oh, how heart wrenching," with the two of us starting to giggle.

It wasn't long before the swelling in my enormous knot had finally passed, and I was able to slide out of my husband's gut without much of a struggle. Naturally, my seed went spilled everywhere and I clicked my tongue. "Don't worry 'bout it," Felice cooed. "I can clean up just fine. Although," he said, quirking his brow. "Your new boyfriend might be interested in lappin' it up." I gave him a half-hearted punch in the arm, which got him chuckling richly. "Just teasin', love, just teasin'!!"

"Oh, I know," I sighed, lovingly bestowing a kiss on his shoulder. "It's not like I'd really hurt you anyways."

"Enh, yeah, huh?" he retorted, poking his tongue at me. "Big ol' softie, you!" I shrugged, giving his buttcheeks one last, firm squeeze before looking down at the mess all over my still fully-erect shaft. I cocked my left brow, not entirely sure how this would work, me needing to dress myself again, before Felice took some initiative and got on his knees to start licking it all off himself.

"Thanks, babe," I said warmly, patting his mane. He nodded, standing back up once he had finished, which left me all tingly and antsy again. "Great, now you've got me wanting to do it again..."

He giggled, licking my cheek playfully. "Yeah, well, I imagine the rest of the group's gonna start panicking if we don't get moving-- which I'd rather not have to deal with-- and besides, you left me all pulverized down there. If anything, it's my turn next!"

Giving him a shrug, I bent down to grab the waist of my camouflaged uniform pants, lifting them up and fitting my tail through the allotted space in the rear. I gave my husband a flick with it before fastening my belt, and he did the same with his tail, only aiming for my face instead. I was quick enough to bat it away, to which he bent down, flaunting those juicy cheeks, scratched and oozing tiny drops of blood where my claws had dug into his skin. He pulled his jeans back up, fitting them snugly over his rather feminine hips, before turning and giving me a sloppy kiss on my black lips. I reached for his hand, and the two of us walked to the door to go back into the restaurant.

"Have fun?" Derick huffed, taking up an entire booth with his feet up. The rest of the place was devoid of our little group, and Victor was nowhere to be seen. "The rest of the group went off looting the rest of the stores so they wouldn't die of boredom waiting on you two to finish up.

"Well," Felice mused, "S'pose you coulda come join in rather than sittin' round here soakin' up fake leather chems. A third person's always fun." I bumped Felice's elbow, and then he rolled his eyes. "Oh wait, forgot, Jackie's a little sensitive around new people."

I growled, giving a frustrated puff of air. "It's not that," I argued. "I just think a third person's a hassle."

"Uh-huh," the tiny otter retorted, eyeing me. "Right. Well, thanks but no thanks. I don't like smooth-skins."

"Well, sorr-ee!" the Crestie growled, gritting his teeth. "I don't like giant otters so I guess we're even!"

"Guess we are!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!!"

Felice blew a few stray locks of hair out of his face before storming off into the kitchen, probably to find himself something to eat. I just stood there, looking completely unsurprised. "Sorry about that," I mumbled.

"Yeah, well, maybe you should try keeping your husband on a tighter leash, foxy."

"I'm not a fox," I snarled. Prissy little Derick just rolled his eyes. "And at least my husband's got bigger balls than you, asshole!"

"Yeah?" Derick started. "Why don't you come yank my pants down, too, huh? We'll see who's got bigger junk, dickwad!"

That was enough. At this point, I had finally had enough of his nonsensical bullshit. Rearing back, I leapt at the otter, my left arm back. When I landed, so did my fist, straight at his face. Derick tried getting his claws up, but I grabbed both of his wrists and lifted him into the air, kicking and screaming, before flinging him at the bar, straight into the corner, smashing a few cups in the process. Derick, recoiling from the two massive blows, yanked a piece of glass out of his hand, seething at the sizeable wound, before reaching for an empty bottle of tequila with his good paw.

The angry otter cast in my direction. I ducked, and it smashed against a wall behind me. I jumped at him again, seizing his throat and lifting him up to slam his face into the countertop. He managed to rake his claws along my exposed arm, as I hadn't put my jacket back on, and barely managed to draw blood with his tiny nails. His small frame and tiny weight was just the advantage I needed to shut him up. This time, I gripped him by his ankle with my left paw, grabbed his arm with my right, and heaved him up before flinging him wrestler-style through a window and out into the sidewalk pavement. I climbed over the booth the glass had shattered over and jumped out to join him, throwing my boot into his ribs. I know for certain I heard two of them crack, at least, and his eyes widened as if he was in massive pain-- which, of course, he was.

Suddenly, Felice and Victor were bursting out of the front door of the restaurant, Victor shouting, "What in the hell is going on!?"

I didn't answer. Standing over Derick, who was clutching his chest, barely breathing and had blood pouring from his nostrils, I only tightened my fists. Felice put a paw on my shoulder, telling me, "Jack, it's alright babe. Just calm down."

"Calm down?" I asked him. He nodded. No. No, no, no. I refuse. Instead, I reached down my left for my revolver, still in its holster, and just as I had it out, Both Felice and Victor pounced on me to try wrestling it out of my hand. I accidentally squeezed off a round, firing it up into the air, and all four of us were clutching our ears, Derick temporarily forgetting about the pain in his ribs. Lucy came running out of the RV, and Mack, Bruce and Bridgett all flew out of a small department store.

"What was that!?" Mack shouted, running over. "What the hell happened to Derick?"

Derick, trying to push out words, croaked, "Bastard's got one hell of a kick... I'll give him that much."

Lucy, kneeling down, had her satchel beside her, wide open, as she fished through it, looking for a stethoscope. She told the otter to breath deeply while she had the instrument against his chest. "It's just cracked, I think. Feeling around, I don't think it's anything more than that. Breathing's not too terribly labored, but he's definitely going to need a few weeks to heal." She looked up, completely puzzled. "What the hell were you two doing!?" Again, I was speechless. She scoffed and kissed his cheek. "His nose isn't broken, luckily, just hit real hard. Looks like you might've given him a good shiner, though..."

Felice, grabbing me by the scruff of my neck, gave me a good shake, whisper-yelling, "What were you thinking?! Now we've gotta get outta here before those freaks show up because you fired a shot, and you've fucked up this poor jag's place! I stepped away for two seconds and you two are already tearing each other apart. Why?" I didn't answer, and he blinked angrily a few times. "What? No answer, nothing? Can't I get SOMETHING outta you? How thick is that head of yours?" My silence was clearly beginning to annoy him, and Mack sighed.

"Fel, you're just going to need to let him be," the horse mumbled, and the hairless canine scoffed.

"Let him be, my ass, cuz now we've got to leave and it is all his fault!" He whipped around, giving the enormous equine a death glare. "So don't you going telling me what I need to be doing!" The angry red-head stormed off to the RV, while Bruce shoved his way past.

"Pissy as he is, he din't need a beatin'," he muttered. "He needed some space, 'das all." He bent at his knees to help Lucy lift up the injured otter.

Mack, clearly disappointed, folded his arms. "That poor guy just lost his best friend and his mother four days ago, you know that?"

Glaring up at the horse with an unamused scowl, I snapped, "What, and I'm supposed to care? I lost nine of my best friends, all three of my brothers and my mom, all in one year, and I'm supposed to give a shit about his feelings? I was just expected to soldier on, deal with it! Everyone of them but my mother got medals over their caskets and all I ever got was a fucking purple heart for getting beaten and raped by bunch a bunch of towel-headed freaks!"

Having screamed all of this so loud my throat hurt, I stomped off to my Shelby, getting in and slamming the door. I slid my key into the ignition and turned the engine over. Looking back, I saw that Victor stood there, completely bewildered, clutching my uniform jacket. He could keep it for all I cared. All I wanted was to get the hell out of here. Felice, hearing the engine turning on, came running out of the RV, yanking open the passenger door just as I started getting the vehicle rolling. He leapt in, closed it, and breathed a small sigh.

"Jack," he mumbled, trying to get some sort of positive response from my emotionless face. "I heard that... and... I'm sorry. I can't believe that was what I was trying to get you to talk to me about all these years, only to realize that what you were carrying was such an immense burden."

My responsive sigh was one that felt like a ten ton brick load being dropped over a cliff. I glanced over with one eye, frowning for a split second. My eyes were watering. Why? No, I told myself, stop it. Stop it, right now.

But here came the waterworks anyways. I had only just gotten to the mouth of the parking lot before tightening my grip around the steering wheel, touching my forehead to it, squeezing my eyes shut, and letting all the tears fall onto my lap. Felice was rubbing his paw on my back while I just kept letting it all go. Years and years and years of pain, and I let it all pour onto my legs and steering wheel. I couldn't stop. It was too much, and never have I ever wanted so hard to just let it all out. It was like, when Derick said what he had, I had finally snapped. I was tired of people insulting my husband, and I was tired of always putting up with everyone's hostility, something that I had just simply grown used to. When I jumped on him, I was past the event horizon and knew there was no point in trying to stop myself. Felice saw it in me, I know he did.

Secretly, I had always known that deep down, he was scared of me. Maybe not as much as I was of myself, but it was definitely there. It was there, in little hints, and I knew it. It only made my own fear worse, because now I felt as though I might even harm the one thing in this world left that I could actually love. I had had so much of that taken from me, I wasn't ready to lose him too. So, I buried everything I could. I buried all of my past, deep as it would go, but it all just clawed its way back to the surface.

And I told him so. I told Felice all of that. And he nodded, like he understood. Not that I doubted him, of course. He was always so kind, so understanding, even if he could be a little devil sometimes.

"Felice?"

"Hmm?" he responded curiously.

"Why do you love me? How do you love me? How does anyone love... this?" I waved my right paw in my own general direction. "How does anyone love something so fucking broken to shit?"

He was taken aback, needing a few seconds to think. "Well," he started slowly. "Um... It's because, you see... only a broken person can really understand and love another one who's been in his shoes. I've been in places like yours, Jack. Maybe not quite as bad, maybe worse, I don't know, but I have been there, and I can never wish that on someone else. When you... Kidnapped me, really... I saw it in your eyes the very day I got a look at you. Your eyes are so... deep, and it was like I was really looking at your tarnished soul. But I realized, you've still got one, see?" He gave my right paw a soothing kiss, wiping a tear off my soaked face. "And I thought to myself, my god, I've got to save it while it's still there. Your eyes are just so... so old, for someone who was so young at the time. I could tell you had seen more and done more than your fair share, and I felt..." He paused, and I knew he was starting to choke on his own salty fluids that started filling his eyes. "And I felt like it was my duty to pull you out of that. Like I was obligated to do it!" He gave a pained, half-hearted laugh, wiping his left eye. "And Mary Mother of Christ did I have a fucked up way of going about all of it, huh?"

I nodded my head fervently, my tears finally starting to dry up. "Yeah, I guess you've always had a strange way for everything..."

The CB crackled to life, and Mack's voice sounded through. "Hey, uh... Jack... Listen, um... Derick was just wanting me to tell you that he's not mad at you or anything, and um... Vic said he'll be joining us... all in all, uh..." There was a brief pause, before Mack continued. "We're following you. Okay? We've got some daylight to catch up on, so... your move, big guy."

Nodding my head some more, I glanced over at Felice. "Yeah, baby. Looks like we've got a lot of catching up to do." I gently tapped on the gas peddle, bumped my horn a few times, and we went rolling out of the lot and out onto the open road.