Page 23 of Smitty

“What about that bird that landed on the brim of your hat a few weeks back?”

"That was a fluke."

"And the cat that climbed into your truck?"

“You’re just making up shit now.”

"I don’t care what it is.” Skid folded his arms across his chest. “The rabbit choosing you over me feels a bit personal."

The rabbit shifted comfortably against my chest. Grim chuckled, “Hell, even he knows.”

"Knows what?"

"That you're an idiot.”

“I don’t know why I thought calling you over here was a good idea.”

“Glutton for punishment.”

“Clearly.”

The rabbit settled against my chest like he didn’t have a care in the world while Skid glared at him with narrowed eyes. “We need to get the mad rabbit back in his pen.”

“Need to get the latch fixed first,” Grim reminded him.

“Yeah, we do.”

Skid didn’t move. He just stood there and kept staring at the rabbit, so I asked, “You good?”

“He’s mocking me.”

“He’s a fucking rabbit, brother. All he cares about is getting his next carrot.”

“Well, he ain’t getting it from me.” He gave the rabbit a snarl before grabbing some wire and his toolbox. “Cage is around back.”

I adjusted my hold on my new furry friend, making sure he was secure as we headed outside. The cage was tucked under a big weeping willow tree, and judging by the marks, the furry escape artist had been working on an exit strategy for quite some time.

Grim crouched down next to it and grumbled, “Damn, son. How’d you miss this?”

“I didn’t miss it,” Skid admitted. “I just haven’t gotten around to fixing it.”

“Then, you got what you had coming.”

Grim leaned in, looking things over before reaching over and taking the wire and toolbox from his son’s hand. I stood behind them, watching while they got to work. They hadn’t been at it long when the back door to the house opened, and Baylor, Skid’s stepdaughter, came flying out. She rushed up to me and ran her hand over the rabbit’s back. “You caught him.”

“Sure did.”

Laken, her mother and Skid’s ol’ lady, followed her over and gave the bunny a scratch on the head. “There he is.”

“He’s a criminal mastermind.”

“He’s not a criminal,” Baylor argued.

“Smitty just meant that he broke out of his cage,” Laken explained. “And he was pretty clever about it.”

Baylor’s brows furrowed. “He just wanted to get out and play.”

“Well, that changes things.”