“Are you hurt?” Lewis asks. He knocks on the window. “Do you need me to call 9-1-1?”
I shake my head. “I’m okay.”
Kat holds up her phone. “Let me call the police. Get you checked out.”
I look behind them and see that James is in the driver’s seat. I slam my foot on the gas again, but it doesn’t budge. Lewis looks at the front of the car. “Your fender's pressed against the wheel. You need a tow.”
James has no idea that they know me and he can’t find out. It would add a complication to everything—put them at risk. I open up the driver’s side door and hop out of the cab.
“I’m sorry,” I tell them.
Kat shakes her head “It’s okay, I just want to make sure you’re—"
That’s when I run, pushing past them toward the van.
“Hey!” Lewis shouts. “What are you doing?”
I jump in the open door and slam it behind me. My heart races in my chest and the dogs bark in the back of the vehicle.
“Go!” I yell.
“Dude, the truck!”
“It’s wrecked. Go!”
He jerks the van in reverse, flying backwards. Lewis and Kat stare at us, shocked. I look back, watching as they come to their senses and Kat starts dialing on her phone.
James grins broadly, the thrill of stealing the van, the dogs in the back, the money coming his way more than he’d hoped for. I’m just relieved my uncle didn’t realize they recognized me.
“Will they be able to track the truck?” I ask, looking in the side mirror. Kat and Lewis are almost out of sight.
“Nah, I stole it. There’s no way to trace it back to me.”
Two stolen vehicles.
A van full of dogs.
They can’t trace them back to James, but they recognized me. Once again, I’m the one that’s going down.
I finally ask the question I’d been holding in all morning. “Where are we taking the dogs?"
“To a warehouse just out of town. To a guy named Marco.”
I hold on as he takes the curve wide, wheels spinning.
“The dog fighter?”
He shrugs, but the guilty look in his eyes says enough. I pointedly don’t ask questions, and for some reason, James doesn’t ask me how I know Marco.
Nausea rolls over me as the warehouse comes into view. James drives the van into the parking lot—the same one I’d been in with Maverick the night we came to the fights.
This time I’m not here to take photos of a criminal.
This time I am the criminal.
The van rolls over the bumpy lot, the cages jostling in the back. The dogs are nervous, whimpering and barking. I keep my eyes forward and I spot Marco, recognizing him from the photos on Maverick’s phone. He’s wearing a maroon tracksuit and a baseball cap. Gold chains hang around his neck.
The van slows and James rolls it to a stop.
My heart is in my throat as I get out, walking around the back of the van. James greets Marco, “Hey man.” They shake hands.
Marco nods at me. James says, “My nephew. He’s a good kid. Griffin, open the back.”
I do as I’m told, opening the back doors. The dogs peer out at me, one from the Farm, wagging his tail when he sees me. The others whine in nervous confusion.
Marco peers in and movement across the lot catches my eye. I glance over, seeing the top of a familiar head. Camera propped on the hood of a car. My stomach drops.
No, no, no, no…
“Looks good,” Marco says. “I see a few fighters in there. The others we can use as bait.”
I cut my eyes toward him.
“Bait?” I ask, the word tasting vile on my tongue.
“Yeah, part of the sport,” he says nonchalantly. “We train the fighters by going against weaker or passive animals—these will do.”
Marco hands over a thick envelope of cash and nods at a few of his crew. They walk over and start unloading the van. I take another look across the parking lot, but Mave is gone.
Maybe she wised up and left? Unlikely.
“So, uh, when can we go?” I ask James.
“You in a hurry?” Marco replies.
“He’s on probation,” James answers for me. “He’s a little skittish about getting busted again.”
That’s putting it lightly. Skittish is a major understatement. Panicked is better. Knowing Maverick is lurking around here? That’s about to send me over the edge.
“Probation bites, but we run a tight business. You’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, as much as I believe you, I’d like to get out of here as soon as possible.”
I hear the crunch of gravel behind me, then her voice.
“Stop!”
It comes from a person that shouldn’t be here. I turn and see Maverick crossing the parking lot, Paul racing after her, trying to pull her back. “I knew you were garbage,” she shouts, glaring at Marco, but then her gaze shifts to me. “But you? I thought you were better than this. I thought you’d changed.”
Words are caught in my throat. There’s nothing I can say. Nothing I can do.
Marco watches our exchange closely, until his eyes settle on Maverick. “Who are you?”
“I’m the person that’s going to take down this fighting ring,” she says, holding Marco’s eye. She’s not afraid. Not one bit. Stupidly, she holds up her phone. “I’ve got proof and I’m turning it in to the police. The dogs, the money, the stolen van. All of it.”
His eyes darken and he lunges for her. I jump in between them and he shouts, “Get her phone!”
The guys drop the dog crates and run after her. Paul’s eyes meet mine and the same thought flickers through them. Protect Maverick.
They’re more interested in the phone than the girl, but she’s feisty and determined, refusing to give it up. Paul steps in front of her and one of the guys swings his fist. It lands hard, cracking against his jaw. I launch at the guy, knocking him to the ground.
He pushes me off and I roll over on my back, dirt in my eyes and mouth. I blink and see James walking toward Maverick. I scramble to my feet.
“James,” I call, “leave her alone.”
“If she gives me the phone, she can go.” He’s only a few feet away and the thought of my uncle anywhere near Maverick bolts me into action.
I rush between them, chest heaving from adrenaline. “Don’t touch her.” I swallow. “Give them the phone.”
“No. I won’t. All the evidence I need is here.”
I glance over at Paul, who is being held by two of Marco’s guys. The bruise on his jaw is already showing and it’s obvious they’re hurting him. I turn to her and say quietly, “You and I both know what these guys are capable of—people who have no respect for animals have no respect for humans. You taught me that.”
“Doesn’t look like it stuck.”
“Give me the phone, Mave.” I look over her shoulder. “For Paul.”
Reluctantly, painfully, she hands me the phone. I see the slight glimmer of hope in her eye that I’ll do the right thing. But I’m not that guy, not right now, and I drop it on the ground. It lands with crunch and I step on it, crushing it under my boot.
“Get out of here,” I tell her, looking at Marco. He nods, looking like he’d rather just get all of this over with. The guys release Paul and she runs over to him, holding him up. She cuts her eyes in my direction.
“I don’t ever want to see you again, Griffin,” she says. “You make me sick.”
I look across the parking lot, out by the road, and force myself not to react. Flickering blue lights streak down the road and turn into the parking lot. “Lucky for you, you won’t ever have to.”
“Cops!” One of the guys yells and they all start to scatter.
James grabs me by the arm. I shake him off. “Bro, come on.”
“Go—without me. I told you, this is my last job.”
He glances over my shoulder and grimaces, then runs off with the others. Police vehicles pour into the park
ing lot. The dogs increase their barking. Maverick nods at Paul, who walks over to check on them.
“They went that way,” Maverick points behind the warehouse. “I had photos of everything, the money, the men involved, but he ruined my phone.”
Most of the police follow her directions but one walks toward me and I hold up my hands.
“Griffin McGuire?” he asks, but it’s clear he already knows my name.
“I stole the van and the dogs. I crushed her phone and all the evidence on it. I’m in violation of my probation."
He nods and walks behind me. “Then I’ll have to ask you to come with me.”
I willingly put my hands behind my back, bracing for the familiar feel of handcuffs cinched around my wrists.
One final car pulls into the lot, a black SUV. I wait, watching the two men get out of the vehicle and head across the lot. Maverick and Paul are busy with the dogs, so she doesn’t see Judge Johnson and the Lieutenant until they’re a few feet away.
“Ms. Frayer, I’m surprised to see you here,” the Judge says, glancing at me. “Is this your doing?”
“No,” she replies, answering for me. “I got a tip about some stolen dogs. I came out to check on it.”
“By yourself?”
“Well, with my brother.” She flicks her eyes at me. “I didn’t know Griffin would be here—working with the dog thieves. I was obviously wrong about him—dead wrong. He hasn’t changed at all—everything, all of it was a lie.”
The Lieutenant moves toward me and says, “Did you get it?"
“Yes, sir, I think so.”
Maverick frowns. “Get what?”
I can’t move because I’m handcuffed, but the Lieutenant directs the officer to release me. Maverick watches with a confused expression as I unzip my jacket, and then unbutton the top two buttons of my shirt. A recording device is taped to my chest. I gently remove it and hand it over.
“I left the camera rolling in the van.”
“What’s going on here?” she asks Judge Johnson.
“Griffin came to me last night at the party and told me he was being pressured by his uncle to get involved with another crime. He told me that if I trusted him, he could get enough evidence to send several major players in the dog fighting business to prison.” He nods to the recorder. “Looks like he made that happen.”
A commotion bounces off the warehouse walls and James, Marco, and his crew are brought back by the police. They’re handcuffed and dirty, looking like they tried to escape through the back fields.
James gives me a dirty look when he sees that I’m not cuffed. He mutters “Traitor,” as he’s dragged by.
“You were undercover?” Paul asks me.
“I didn’t want to hide it from you guys, but I didn’t have much of a choice. I had no idea the rescue group would notify you about this. Even I didn’t have all the details before I met up with James this morning.”
“You set your uncle up?” she asks, eyes worried. “I know that had to be hard.”
I shrug. “It was, but it also wasn’t. He doesn’t care about my well-being or about what’s best for me. He’s all about himself and I had to realize that just because he’s family, it doesn’t mean he’s good for me.”
I’m not sure what Maverick is thinking right now—or feeling. I want to apologize and see if she’ll ever trust me again. It’s likely I crossed a line today. Even if I did the right thing, I did it at the risk of harming animals, of losing her. I have a strong feeling she may not be okay with that.
I catch her eye and try to suss out her emotions, but the Lieutenant calls my name. “Griffin, we’re going to need you to go down to the station and make a statement.”
“Yes, sir,” I reply, turning back once more. She’s already walked over to the cages and is talking to an officer about the dogs.
I hear her tell the officer, “We’ll take the dogs and get them sorted out with the transport people.”
As always, the animals are her first priority. I know that about her. I love that about her.
Paul stops me on the way to the police car. Someone gave him an ice pack for his jaw. I grimace when I see the bruising.
“Sorry you got caught up in this,” I tell him. “I had no idea she’d show up here, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“There’s no stopping her when she’s got her mind on something—particularly endangered animals.”
“I’ve noticed that.”
“She told me about the other times you went out with her.” He winces at the pain. “Thanks for looking out for her.”
He was thanking me?
“I’m sorry if I betrayed your trust. This situation,” I glance behind me at the van, the barking dogs, and the police, “was going to happen with or without me. I took a chance last night when I saw Judge Johnson at the fundraiser. Asked him if there was a way we could bring these guys down. He made it happen.”
“Hopefully they appreciate it.”
I look at Maverick. “She’s—”
“Going to need some time to process it. Give her some space.”
“Right.” A cop waves for me to get in the car. “I better go. Oh, can you take care of Buddy for me? I’m not sure if or when I’ll be back. And I guess,” a pain aches in my chest, “if you have to, can you find him a good home?”
I don’t even know where I’ll be living in the next week.
Redemption House?
Prison?
I know for certain I’m not going back to James’ place. Wherever it is, it’ll be far away from him.
“We’ll take care of Buddy as long as you need us to.”
I sense the hope in his words. “Thanks.”
I walk over to the police car and get in. It’s not my first time in the back of a cop’s car. Hopefully, though, it will be my last.
The officer pulls out of the parking lot and I take one last look at Maverick, hair blowing in the morning breeze, determined to save these animals, and know in my mind that even if I lose her over this, it was worth it. For once in my life I did the right thing, not the selfish thing.
I just wish that my heart agreed.
30
Mave
Days pass and the only news I hear about Griffin is from Redemption House, when Gabrielle calls to say that he won’t be returning to the Farm.
“Is everything okay?” I ask. Buddy runs around by my feet, like he knows I’m talking about his person. I stroke his head to calm him, but it doesn’t work. He’s looking for Griffin constantly.
“With the legal issues surrounding the dog fighting ring, Judge Johnson and the police think it may be in his best interest to stay away from your farm right now. For your safety.”
“For our safety?”
“If any of Marco’s crew are still out there, the police don’t want them to make the connection between Maverick Farm and Griffin McGuire. It’s possible they could retaliate.”
The wave of disappointment is unexpected. “That makes sense.”
Gabrielle pauses on the other side of the line. “I know this has been challenging for you, Mave. We appreciate you working with the Last Chance program. Although everything kind of imploded at the end, I do think that Griffin learned a lot from his experience. He was definitely trying to do the right thing in a complicated situation.”
“I learned a lot from him, too.”
Like people actually change.
“Griffin’s final hearing will be on Monday. If you’d like to send a report or a letter to the judge, you can. If not, that’s understandable.”
“I’ll think about it.”
I hang up the phone and look down at Buddy.
“Looks like he’s not going to be coming back.” I stroke his short, soft fur. “We knew this was for the short-term. Griffin’s goal was to stay out of prison, not to make relationships.”
I stand and head back out to the barn to attend to the animals. No matter what, I’ll always have them.
It took a mi
nute, but we got the transport dogs settled in at the farm. Paul, Max, and I set up a makeshift kennel in the barn, giving the dogs a chance to run around the pen. We’d decided to give them a few days to chill out before sending them back on the van.
On Saturday night I take the late shift, giving Paul a chance to go hang out with Josie from the vet clinic. I’m happy he finally asked her out. He needs a life outside of the farm.
I make a visit to the cat house, then back to the kennel to fill the dog bowls with kibble and refresh the water. One of the pups, a clumsy golden mix, excitedly steps in the water, then the food, sloshing it all over my pants and shoes.
“Seriously, Murry?” I ask, shaking my head at the adorable dog. His bowls need cleaning out. “Let me clean up and I’ll bring you back your dinner.”
I cross the room and walk into the small washroom off the bunk room. I glance through the open door and see the stack of playing cards on the little table. My eyes skip to the bed.
Memories of that kiss flood through me.
The first kiss that made me feel that way. The first man that made me feel that way.
Love.
That’s the word I’ve been avoiding.
I turn on the faucet and rinse out the bowls with the hose. A shuffle in the doorway pulls me from my thoughts.
“You back already?” I ask, assuming it’s Paul. “Tell me you didn’t ditch Josie after dinner.”
“I guess that answers the question whether you missed me the past few days.”
Startled, I turn and see Griffin standing in the doorway.
“Wha—” I start, but move too quickly, dropping the hose. It sprays with abandon, drenching my face.
I yelp and close my eyes, fumbling for the faucet. My fingers hit the metal but not before another, bigger hand clamps on top, shutting the water off.
Before I can reach for a towel, his hand steadies my shoulder and soft cotton wipes the water from my eyes. When I can see again, I blink at the man in front of me, using the hem of his shirt to dry my face.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. “Gabrielle said—”
“I’m not supposed to be here, but I didn’t want to leave things like…like the way they were left. At the warehouse.” His hand is still on my cheek but has moved closer to my neck. His thumb glides gently across my skin. “I’m sorry if I betrayed your trust. If I ruined everything between us. My uncle…he wasn’t going to let me go and I knew he was getting in deeper. When the opportunity came up, I took the chance. Busting Marco was just icing on the cake.”
Rescuing the Bad Boy: Bad Boy Sweet Romance (Last Chance at Love Book 1) Page 13
