by Ellie Wade
I leave him to go brush my teeth real quick. Waking up early to go for a run isn’t my idea of a good Sunday morning either. But I need to burn some energy off. I’ve been sleeping like shit lately. I’m so restless.
I’ve been dreaming a lot about the seventeen-year-old Georgia, who I thought I might’ve loved before I knew the kind of person she was. Yeah, so she doesn’t seem to be like that anymore, but it doesn’t matter. She and I have nothing in common. We come from two very different worlds.
Thinking about that time in my life isn’t pleasant even if I remove Georgia. I hated everything about my high school years—the school, the people, lack of money, my mom, her drugs. The list is endless. I don’t like reliving any of it, and because of Georgia, I am.
I need to clear my head.
I rinse off my toothbrush and wipe my mouth on the towel. Looking down, I find Cooper at my feet. He sighs and falls to the bathroom rug in dramatic fashion.
“Look who’s back. You disappeared there for a while.” I bend and hold his big head between my hands. I kiss him on the softest part of his forehead, right between his eyes.
“I know you don’t want to go for a run, but you’re not getting any younger. We need to keep you in shape, so you live a long time. You’re almost fifty-six in dog years, man. You could be an AARP member. A morning jog will do you some good.”
I head out of the bathroom, and Cooper follows.
“And maybe we’ll stop and get you a sausage, egg, and biscuit sandwich. Okay?”
Cooper wags his tail as I put on my running shoes.
“Yes, I know a sandwich like that defeats the whole purpose of running, but they’re your favorite, and I spoil you way more than I should.” I rub his head, and he follows me out of the house.
Brisk morning runs aren’t everything they’re made out to be. I don’t have much time to think because I’m too focused on the burning sensation in my lungs. Breathing in cold air isn’t pleasant.
Once we hit the three-mile mark, I stop, and we walk. Cooper pants heavily.
“We’re out of shape, aren’t we, boy? You ready for your sandwich?”
We walk to our favorite breakfast place in town. It’s a glorified fast-food joint, but they let me bring Cooper in, and their food is good. I order eight breakfast sandwiches—enough for me, Cooper, Mark, and Stan to each have two. I can’t be this close to where Mark and Stan hang out and not bring them food.
After Cooper and I eat ours, we head toward Fourth Street. I can see Mark sitting there, as he usually is, with Stan at his side, but this morning, there’s someone else there too.
I let out a sigh when we’re close enough to see who it is. Cooper notices her as well. His body starts shaking with excitement.
“You’re such a traitor.”
“Hey, Wyatt! Hey, boy!” Mark greets us.
“We brought you and Stan some breakfast.” I hand him the bag.
“Well, isn’t today my lucky day? My Georgia Peach brought us some breakfast, too.” He smiles toward Georgia, who is sitting across from him. They have a small travel-sized chessboard between them. Mark notices me looking at the board. “I’m trying to teach her how to play.”
“I’m not very good.” She laughs.
“Do you two play often?” I ask.
“No, this is only our second time playing. But Georgia always stops by to say hi after she runs.”
Georgia’s dressed in running gear. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and she has a sports headband on. Her cheeks are rosy, and her eyes are bright.
“Cooper and I went running, too.”
“I didn’t know you ran,” she says.
“We don’t as much as we should.” I leave it vague, omitting the fact that this was our first run in months.
“I’m glad you’re taking him out.” She nods toward Cooper. “It will keep his heart healthy.”
“Yeah.”
I want to tell her that she doesn’t need to worry about Cooper or his heart. He’s mine, and I’ll take care of him. Yet I know she was just being kind, and if I were to comment, I would only be acting like an asshole—which I’m trying hard not to do—so I don’t say anything.
Cooper starts whining and pulling his leash.
“What is it, boy?”
I allow him to pull me where he wants me to go, and we end up about a half a block down from Mark. Cooper looks to me and then looks down an alleyway behind some restaurants.
“What is it? Did you see something?” I ask him.
“What is it?” Georgia whispers behind me, startling me.
I didn’t realize she’d followed.
“I don’t know. Hold Cooper.” I hand her his leash.
I hesitantly make my way down the alley. I look behind the trash cans and in all of the crevices between the buildings. I don’t see anything. I start walking toward the street when I hear something scratch against metal beside me.
To my right, there is a large green dumpster. I open the thick plastic lid, and my heart sinks. It doesn’t matter how many rescues I do; it always breaks my heart.
“It’s okay, baby. I’m here to help you.”
I motion Georgia down and pull my cell out of my pocket.
I call Ethel. “Hey, are you in the office? Okay. Can you bring the van down to Fourth Street to the alley entrance right next to the parking structure? Yeah. Make sure there’s a crate in the back. Thanks.”
“What is it?” Georgia asks.
I nod toward the dumpster, and she looks inside, bringing one of her hands up to her mouth with a gasp.
Tears fill her eyes. “What is wrong with people?”
“I ask myself that every day. Can you run and ask Mark if he has a pocketknife in his backpack? I don’t have anything on me to cut that off of her mouth.”
“Sure.”
“You can just leave Cooper here.”
She drops his leash and runs out of the alleyway.
I turn an old metal garbage can upside down and place it outside of the dumpster. I jump on top of it and crawl in. The large bin is empty besides the dog. At least the dumbass who did this threw her away after the garbage was picked up and not before.
She cowers in the corner, her eyes full of fear.
“I know you’re scared. Humans haven’t been good to you, have they? You don’t have to be scared anymore.”
She’s an all-black pit bull. Her body is covered in puncture wounds. Her ears have been hacked off with a dull blade. She has duct tape wrapped so tightly around her snout that it’s cutting into her skin. The edges of the tape are red with blood.
“Here.” Georgia reaches over and hands me a small knife.
I take it and slowly inch toward the frightened animal with my palm out. “Shh. You’re okay. I’m going to help you.”
I pet her head and notice a small twitch of her tail. I smile. “Yeah, that’s it. Good girl.”
I pet her a little more, making sure she knows that I’m not going to hurt her. Then, I work at cutting the tape from her muzzle.
“I’m sorry. I know. I’m almost done.”
Her entire body shakes with fear.
I’m so relieved when the final piece of tape comes loose.
“There. Now, you can breathe.”
I look up to Georgia. “I need you to stand on the silver garbage can. I’m going to hand her to you. Then, I’ll jump out and take her.”
“Okay.” She nods and steps up.
I gently pick up the little girl, reassuring her the entire time, and hand her to Georgia. Then, I climb out of the dumpster and extend my arms so that I can get the dog back. I hold her close to my chest and exit the alleyway to find Ethel and the van waiting.
I place the dog in a crate in the back of the van and motion for Cooper to jump in. He does.
I pull the knife out of my pocket and hand it to Georgia. “Can you tell Mark thanks for me?”
“Sure.” She takes the knife from my grasp. “But can I come back with you?”
/>
“Yeah.”
“Okay, be right back.” She smiles and runs off to return the knife to Mark.
I climb into the passenger seat.
“Same shit, different day,” I tell E.
She sighs, “Poor baby.”
“She’s so sweet, too.”
Georgia slides in and closes the door, and then Ethel drives off.
“I can’t believe she let you cut that off of her mouth and pick her up. She didn’t even snarl or anything,” Georgia says from the backseat.
“It’s often like that. They’re so trusting of humans despite being so abused by them. It’s the pit-bull spirit. They just love people. They’re the best dogs. That poor girl doesn’t have a mean bone in her body, and she was so abused by people. Still, she wags her tail when I pet her.” I shake my head, still so angry with the piece of shit who did this to her.
“Will she be okay?” Georgia asks.
I nod. “Yeah. She’ll be a great dog. She needs some antibiotics and TLC, but she’ll be fine. She’s going to make some family really happy. She’ll love them unconditionally.”
We get back to the shelter and get Luna situated.
Georgia named her Luna because as she says, “She’s as black as night, but her spirit shines as bright as the moon, and Luna means moon.”
Georgia really invests in the dogs’ names. I pretend to find it annoying, but it’s kind of endearing.
After Luna is bathed, fed, and medicated, I check on all of the other dogs. Everyone showed for work today, which is rare, and they all did their jobs well, which is also rare. The dogs all look good and happy.
“E, go home,” I say to Ethel.
“It’s fine. I have some reading to do. I’ll stay.”
“For the love of God, go home. Spend time with your cats. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I kiss her on the cheek, grab her by the shoulders, and push her out of the office.
She laughs. “Fine, but I need my purse and my coat.” She points into the office.
“Okay, but then you leave. Enjoy your Sunday.”
“What about you?” She looks concerned.
“I’m fine. I have Cooper, a couch, and a TV.” I motion toward the new setup that I have going in the office. I splurged and bought some essentials since I’m here so often. “We’ll order a pizza and watch some basketball. It will be awesome. I’ll give Luna her second round of meds later and make sure all the dogs get walked again tonight. We’re good. I promise.”
Ethel leaves, and Cooper and I get situated on the sofa. I aimlessly flip through the channels. There’re no good games on. I catch the Jurassic World movie.
“You in the mood for dinosaurs?” I ask Coops.
He lets out a loud snore, like a congested pig.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
A bit into the movie, I hit pause, deciding to go check on Luna. Cooper hops off the couch and follows me.
“Do you want to see if she wants to come hang with us in here?” I ask Cooper. I always worry about the new dogs when they first come. I know being in a kennel must be scary for them.
When Cooper and I hang out in the office, I’ll often bring a couple of other dogs up to relax. I wish they could all fit on the couch with us. Every dog deserves to know what that feels like.
I close in on Luna’s cage. I’m startled when Georgia’s bright blue eyes greet me.
“What are you doing here? I thought everyone left.”
“I was just going to go home to read, so I figured I might as well do it here and sit with her. I didn’t want her to be scared.”
Georgia is sitting on the concrete floor, her back leaning against the side of the kennel. Luna’s head, with all the evidence of her past abuse, rests on Georgia’s lap.
“You don’t have a book.”
She holds up her phone. “Kindle app. I always have a book with me.”
“Well, I was just coming to see if Luna wanted to come sit up on the couch with me and Cooper.”
I look to Georgia, waiting for all of my pent-up anger toward her to surface, but it doesn’t come. Georgia makes it impossible to hate her. She’s incredibly annoying in that way.
“We’re watching a movie and going to order pizza. You can come up if you want.”
Georgia laughs. “Was that last part hard for you to say? Your face was all scrunched up, and you appeared to be in pain as you said it.”
I shrug. “It wasn’t easy.”
“Well, even though I know you’re not super thrilled about me joining you, I accept. My ass is going numb, sitting on this floor, and I’m kind of hungry.” She looks down to Luna and gently pets her back. “And I do want to hang out with her a little longer, so she’s not alone, you know?”
I nod because I do.
“Come on, Luna baby,” Georgia says sweetly, encouraging our new resident to follow her to the office.
Luna’s hesitant at first but then slowly follows behind Georgia.
It’s actually pretty impressive that she’s gained Luna’s trust so quickly. I’d never tell Georgia, but she’s a natural with these rescues. They all trust her.
“So, what are you watching?” Georgia asks.
The four of us get situated on the sofa. I sit at one end with Cooper’s head on my lap. She sits on the other with Luna’s head in hers.
“Jurassic World.”
“You mean, Jurassic Park?” she asks.
“No, World.”
She appears confused.
“You know, the one with Chris Pratt,” I tell her.
“Remind me who he is again.”
“Are you serious?” I narrow my eyes in question. “Star-Lord from Guardians of the Galaxy?”
“I haven’t seen that one. I haven’t been in the States much since I graduated from college. I’m behind on movies.”
“Where’ve you been?”
“South America, Africa, and China. Mainly.”
“Doing what?”
“Trying to help people.”
“Why?” I question.
She presses her lips together, the corners turning up into a grin. “I don’t know. I guess because they need the help. Why do you help dogs?”
“Because they need it.”
She nods. “Exactly. Maybe you and I aren’t so different.”
I shake my head. “No, we definitely are. Completely different.”
“You keep telling yourself that, Wyatt. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
I opt to change the subject. “So, tell me the last Jurassic movie you saw. We can’t start with this one if you haven’t seen the prior ones.”
Georgia’s eyes light up. “Ooh, are we going to do a marathon? Like, hang out and stuff? This is a big step. We’re, like, basically friends now.” She smiles wide and quirks her eyebrows up.
“Don’t get all crazy. Just tell me which one. Or should we just start from the beginning?”
She leans her head against the back of the sofa, her expression soft, her grin kind. “I think starting from the beginning is always good.”
Maybe.
Sometimes.
But not always.
13
“Wyatt Gates is my weakness. The harder I try to let him go, the more fiercely my heart holds on.”
—Georgia Wright
Wyatt Gates is kissing me, and it’s everything I hoped it would be.
His tongue gently requests entry as it runs along my lips, and I open my mouth, inviting it in. God, yes. Wyatt deepens the kiss. His fingers are now at the nape of my neck, threading into my hair, pulling my mouth into his. I wrap my arms around his neck and hold him close to me.
“Hey, Peaches.” His fingers grasp my arm, shaking lightly.
My mind is foggy, but I try to ignore his words. I want his lips back. I close my eyes tighter, waiting for the kiss.
“Georgia. Wake up.”
“Ugh,” I groan. “Go away.”
I’m bitter. The Wyatt of today stole me away from the Wyatt of
my dreams.
I don’t want the real Wyatt, the one who hates me, the one who will never see me as anything but a nuisance. I want the one who, for a small moment in time, kissed me in that study room like I was the only girl he wanted to kiss for the rest of his life.
I want those lips, that Wyatt, and that moment back.
Why am I still aching for something that happened so long ago?
I open my eyes to find his beautiful blues staring back at me, curious. His gaze makes me ache because I want him. As I’m fresh from my perfect dream, all of my emotions hover at the surface. Every bit of me wants every bit of him. I want his lips. I want his hands. I want his eyes to continue to look at me with anything but hate.
In this space, fresh from a memory and vulnerable, I can’t lie to myself.
I still want him.
He’s been cruel and vile…and I shouldn’t. I wish I didn’t. But I do.
I want him so badly, and part of me doesn’t even care that he doesn’t like me. If he’d have me, I’d take him anyway—just to feel those lips one more time.
My thoughts betray me, and I’m disappointed in myself. This isn’t me. I’m not weak. I don’t need a man’s touch to make me feel whole. I don’t need anyone.
I’ve kissed my share of guys, and no one has made me feel the way that Wyatt did. But it wasn’t real. I was young. I’ve built that kiss up in my head for so long. Of course, no kiss has come close since. Reality is never more satisfying than a dream.
I sit up. Resting my elbows on my knees, I hold my face in my hands.
“I’ve finished walking and feeding the dogs. I’m going to—why are you crying?” Wyatt asks, concerned.
I drag my fingers across my cheek, and they pick up wetness along the way.
I am crying.
I stand and wipe my tears from my face.
“What is it?” he asks, his hands on either side of my arms, holding me close.
“Careful,” I warn him. “One might think you care.” I put a hand on his side and gently push him away from me.
I’m just exhausted and emotional. I need to get out of here. I take a few steps away from him as I swipe the tears with the backs of my hands.
“Georgia, stop,” Wyatt demands, and for some reason, I comply. “I don’t understand,” he says from behind me.
