I lean forward, and just as I’m about to catch it under the glass, it scuttles up the wall.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” I yell. A soft squeak comes from Winnie as I lunge, slamming the glass over it. The spider skitters inside the trap, and it almost looks like it’s trying to find a way out.
“Paper,” I say, reaching behind me without taking my eyes off it. She slips the paper into my hand, and carefully—oh so carefully—I start sliding it under the glass.
That’s when all hell breaks loose.
As I’m bringing the whole thing away from the wall, thinking I’ve successfully trapped the planet’s ugliest spider, the paper bows—giving the spider a clear exit that it chooses to take…right up my arm.
I scream. It’s definitely a manly scream and not nearly as high-pitched as it sounds in my own ears. I flail. The glass goes flying and smashes on the ground. Winnie screeches behind me. Deputy starts barking. Her front door bursts open.
And I’m faced with the worst humiliation of my life as Corbin comes thundering into the cottage.
Winnie
The spider is gone, and I am left totally horrified. Where the hell did it go?
Meanwhile, Corbin is looking around my house like a serial killer might be hiding in my cupboards. Gage is looking at Corbin with a mix of embarrassment and anger. Great.
“Where did it go?” I demand, since that is absolutely my biggest concern right now.
Corbin scans my kitchen and tiny living room. “Where did what go?” he asks, urgent. That is when I notice his gun is drawn, leveled at the floor.
This time I laugh. I cannot seem to stop, but between gasping breaths I manage, “The spider.”
Corbin’s face goes blank. “Spider?”
“It wasn’t just a spider. The thing was the size of my hand,” Gage insists, spreading his hand like evidence.
“That was why you screamed?” Corbin asks, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Fuck you,” Gage mutters, grabbing a broom and dustpan to sweep up the broken glass.
“It disappeared,” I mutter, looking around warily.
“What did?” Corbin asks.
“The spider, man. Keep up,” Gage replies.
“Okay, well, it's bound to show up sooner or later,” Corbin says casually.
I gawk at his calm attitude. “Are you suggesting I just let that thing roam around my house?” I demand.
“Well, what else can we do?” Gage asks.
“Oh, I don’t know. Burn the freaking house down?” I offer, not entirely sarcastic.
Corbin barks out a laugh that both elates and annoys me. “Okay, Sweetheart. We will find it. Don’t worry.”
Without any communication at all, the alphas begin searching my house. I take a seat, legs pulled up to my chest. My little nemesis must be found. This is not okay. We cannot share a space.
Corbin and Gage move like they can read each other’s minds. Where one goes high, the other goes low. Where one enters a room, the other covers the rest. They are clearly pack. Corbin may have “left”, but his alpha does not seem to have gotten the memo.
“Got you,” Corbin announces, raising his hand.
Before I can stop him, Gage catches Corbin’s wrist before he can smash the spider. Corbin growls, frustrated, until Gage presents a new cup and a sturdier sheet of paper. This time the capture and release goes smoothly.
I watch as the large, beastly thing scuttles off into the forest. I wish it well. Just because I hate spiders does not mean they should die.
