Silently, I went to the kitchen and filled a small bag with ice, handing it to him without a word being spoken.
He looked up at me, his eyes storm-filled and solemn.
“Thank you,” he said softly.
Then he pressed play.
The sound was slightly muffled, but I could still hear distressed and angry barking, people shouting and cheering. Then the camera came into focus, and I gasped.
I watched for a horrifying 20 minutes as two sets of dogs fought each other, and even the grainy black-and-white film couldn’t hide the gross depravity of what I was watching.
Finally, the recording ended, and I held my hands over my face.
“That was . . . that was the vilest, most disgusting . . .” I couldn’t finish.
Alex glanced at me, his gaze cautious, contemplative.
“I was shown some videos at veterinarian school,” I went on, “but seeing this and knowing that you were there . . .”
He nodded, the angles of his cheekbones casting shadows across his face.
“What . . . what will happen now?”
Alex sighed.
“It depends on whether they caught the organizers.”
“I meant, what will happen to the dogs? There were other dogs there, right?”
He grimaced.
“Any dogs that the police find, they’ll be euthanized.”
“Oh!”
“Dawn, you know the shelters are over-flowing, and no one has the time or patience to retrain a fighting dog, although I’ve been thinking I could do something . . . but no one wants to rehome them, so they’re just killed.”
“Then why?” I cried out. “What was all this for?”
He sighed and rubbed his eyes.
“Because it’s a better death than them having their throats ripped out, or forced to fight again. You’re a vet—you know this.”
I did. And I hated it, but he was right. I knew from my contacts in local animal shelters that large dogs were difficult to rehome at the best of times, and could be kept in concrete cages for as long as three years, hopelessly waiting for someone to want them. I could never decide if high-kill shelters were a better option than keeping a dog imprisoned in a cage for years at a time.
But it helped me understand Alex’s hatred a little more.
“And the organizers?”
“If they caught them, it will stop temporarily. I’ll email the film footage to Cleveland PD anonymously, in case they need evidence. If they didn’t catch them, the organizers will just move the action out of Cleveland for a while, so I plan on checking out Pittsburgh. With luck, I’d find another whore with a soft heart to help me. But the money behind it all, the mob money? That will seep back, eventually. More evil, more darkness, it never stops.”
He laughed bitterly, without mirth, as if he didn’t know what laughter was for.
“What does that say about the society that we live in, that a hard-as-nails prostitute cares more than the average man on the street?”
I didn’t know who he was talking about, but I had to believe that people would care if they knew.
“That’s not true, I’m sure of it. If you told people, if you showed them . . .”
He shook his head again.
“You think I’m c-c-crazy.”
I remembered the look on his face when he’d brought in that other fighting dog. And I understood, I did, but I didn’t want to be part of the violence. I wanted to leave it to the police. I wanted it be stopped legally.
“No, not crazy . . .”
“But . . . ?”
“Surely you’ll stop now?”
He was silent.
“Alex! Those people are dangerous! What if they saw you? What if they’re waiting for you to go back? If they find out they were recorded . . . you can’t continue—it’s too dangerous. You have to stop!”
Alex’s face was as hard as granite, his jaw clenched.
“It never stops.”
A sudden flash of insight halted the words that I would have said.
“Oh! The fighting, your crusade—it’s just another addiction, isn’t it?”
His eyes widened.
“No,” he said, uncertainty in his voice, “that’s not it.”
“I think it is. You’re addicted to it, Alex. I can see it in your eyes. The rush of adrenaline, taking the fight to these monsters.”
“It’s not the same as . . .”
“Isn’t it? Isn’t it just another addiction? Another way of blotting out the pain of . . . of living?”
He looked surprised, but he seemed to be considering what I was saying.
“I care about you, Alex, so much! This scares me, I’m scared for you. And . . . I need you! I need you to be in my life. For me, for Katie. Don’t you realize how important you are to me?”
His eyes widened.
“I think what you’re doing is too dangerous! God, Alex! There are other ways you can help! You could . . . I don’t know . . . you could . . . you could volunteer at a dog rescue center. Start your own. Build your own! You have the skills!”
He didn’t answer, staring at his damaged hands and the bag of ice that I’d given him.
I thought about the stream of injured animals that he’d continued to bring to the office even when we weren’t talking to each other. He seemed to have an affinity for the sick and hurt. I wondered how many hours he’d walked in the woods to find so many animals needing help.
And I thought about Stan. After Alex’s ex-wife’s betrayal, he had learned to speak again, but other than Stan, he’d had no one to talk to for a long time.
And in the end, was our love about me learning to speak his language?
I shook my head, but it didn’t stop the sun from setting, the tide from turning, or walking away from Alex for the last time.
It would be the right thing to do, what I should do.
I should think about Katie and forget about Alex Winters. Forget the gentle way he touched me, the passionate way he possessed me, forget that a good man with a streak of crazy wanted to be part of my world.
I can’t do that.
And I wasn’t scared of Alex. I was scared for him.
“I hate what happened tonight,” I said in a low voice. “I hate that you were involved with it, and you scared me. I know I should walk away. I’d have to be crazy not to. And you were so . . . but I can’t stop loving you either.”
The words spilled from my tongue before I could catch them.
Love meant accepting every part of him: the fun, the flaws, the damage, the baggage, just as it did for me.
His poor, bruised hands tightened in his lap.
“Do you mean that?” he whispered.
“God help me, but I think I do.”
We sat in silence, not touching, just being. I didn’t know what to do with all the new information I’d learned about Alex. I don’t think he knew what to say to me either, but he seemed calm, as if having me see everything, experience it through him, lifted a burden he’d been carrying.
I also knew that I loved him and wanted him. But I also loved Rocky Road ice cream with hot fudge and chocolate sprinkles—it didn’t mean that either were good for me. Or my daughter.
Oh God, Katie.
What if something had gone wrong tonight? What if Alex had gotten hurt—worse than a bruised face, split lip and cut knuckles? What if he’d been caught? What if he’d been arrested? What if? What if? What if?
My heart pounded as delayed shock turned my blood to ice and my body started to shake. And then I felt Alex’s warm hand close over mine.
“It’s okay. I’m safe now. It’s over.”
“Is it?” I gasped. “Until the next time! There’ll always be a next time, won’t there?”
His face was serene as he answered.
“Yes. But if they get raided enough times, they’ll move into other cities, or other areas of business.”
He ran his thumb over my wrist, his rhythmic strokes soothing me, le
ssening the tremors that wracked my body.
“I don’t understand it,” I shivered, “The people who watch that for . . . for sport! You saw them, Alex. They didn’t all look like gang members. Some were just ordinary people. People who’d probably spent Thanksgiving with their families having dinner. Just ordinary people who do something so despicable. I don’t understand. At least when it’s boxing or MMA, then people are choosing to take part, but those poor animals, they didn’t have a choice. It’s a felony offense in every state!”
He was silent, but his expression was grim.
“I don’t even want to think about how they make those dogs so aggressive.”
He scowled.
“Torture. They chain them up, make them hold onto baited meat then dangle them above the ground, inject them with steroids, sometimes even make them eat roach poison so their fur tastes bad to other dogs, cut off their ears and tail so there’s less for another dog to latch onto. And . . . they use other animals as bait to train them to kill. Weaker animals . . . pet cats.”
“Please don’t tell me anymore,” I begged, putting my hands over my ears.
I sat there, too tired and numb to move.
After a moment, he shifted to face me.
“Dawn, this doesn’t change how I feel about you. Does it change how you feel about me?”
“Yes. No.”
“Dawn, please. No head games. I’m fucking dying here.”
“Of course it changes how I feel about you! I was so scared . . . not just for me, but for you. I hate that you’re involved in it. I hate that it exists in the first place.”
“Do you still want me in your life?”
“Only if you promise, absolutely promise that Katie won’t be dragged into it in any way.”
He was silent for a long time.
“Alex?”
“She’s going to ask questions, Dawn. She’ll wonder why I have a bruised face, why my knuckles are cut and bruised, where I disappear to some nights. Do you want me to lie to her each time or . . . or just stay away from her?”
“I’d rather you didn’t get into a situation where either one is necessary.”
He growled in frustration.
“Then no. I can’t promise you. I can’t promise her. All I can say is I’ll be careful. I want to be here for you and Katie. I don’t want to lose you.”
I stared at his damaged hands.
“This is a deal-breaker, Alex. It has to be.”
I looked up and met his eyes as he searched my face.
“You’d walk away from . . . from what we have?”
I swallowed, but held his gaze.
“Yes, because I can’t be a part of that . . . violence. I can’t be that selfish. Not for me, and definitely not for Katie.”
He reared back like he’d been stung.
“Selfish? You think I’m being selfish?”
“I think you’re being reckless with your life! And we need you! So yes, if you call that selfish.”
He looked away.
“What if I promise to be really careful? More careful than I used to be. Remember what I said about Stan? About not wanting to leave him alone in the world, about having something to live for? Well, that’s you and Katie for me now. You are my reason for living.”
I felt the weight of his words and the awful responsibility of loving someone, of being loved by them.
“Alex . . .”
“What if I said that I won’t get involved? I’ll even work with the police. I’ll just video the evidence. Please, Dawn. Don’t ask me to stop doing what’s right—stopping this cruelty.”
He was trying so hard.
All relationships have problems. Ours were just a little . . . different. Maybe I needed to try harder, too. Maybe.
Cold was seeping through me and I shivered again.
“It’s late. You should go to bed,” Alex said quietly.
I hesitated.
“Will you come with me?”
His eyes fluttered closed as a smile curved his poor, damaged lips.
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
He leaned forward as if he was going to kiss me, then pulled back at the last moment.
“I’m kind of a mess,” he said.
It was true. He stank of smoke and was covered in sweat, blood, grime and my tears. I shuddered at the reminder.
“I’ll need to go back to my place and . . .”
“Alex, I’m so tired, I just want to sleep. Let’s worry about your clothes tomorrow.”
He gave me an apologetic smile tinged with immense sadness. Then he nodded.
I climbed upstairs as if my shoes were made of lead and I weighed a thousand pounds. But more than anything, I wanted to forget. I wanted to believe that the world was a wonderful place and that evil didn’t exist. I wanted to believe that I could love and be loved and nothing would ever come between us. I wanted to believe that I could keep Katie safe from all the bad things in the world.
I fell into bed, and a minute later, he followed. I heard the soft whir of the washing machine from the utility room.
His skin felt warm as he slid into my bed and carefully curled himself around me. Then he pressed a kiss into my hair, and I felt his body relax with a long sigh.
Safe within his arms, I fell asleep immediately.
The slow pull of morning brought me to consciousness and I stretched out, smiling when I felt Alex’s warm palm graze my hip.
“Morning,” I said, my voice husky with sleep.
His hand slipped under my t-shirt, palming my breast, and I groaned with pleasure, arching my back, my breath quickening.
He kissed the back of my neck, running his chin along my spine, scratching my skin pleasurably.
More widely awake now, all the thoughts and hopes and fears of last night came racing back, and I tensed, my brain at war with my body.
Was I really going to ruin this? I’d found the treasure I’d been looking for my whole life.
His hand moved back to my hip, his fingers dipping below the elastic of my panties, slow circles making me gasp and press against him.
I could feel his hard heat between the cheeks of my ass, and he groaned softly as I pushed my hips backward.
No, no more thinking. No more doubts. All or nothing. The best car crash we could be.
He pushed the material down further and I thrashed with my feet to kick them off, making him chuckle warmly into my hair.
Then he changed the angle of his body, shifting in the bed and lifting my leg, giving him room to push inside me.
Slow morning love; hot heated night times; lazy loving, furious thrusts—every part of my body responded to his touches. I didn’t want our story to have an ending. I wanted it to go on and on.
Who needed perfect when I had someone loyal and kind?
Slight mental problems, of course, but he knew me inside and out and put up with all my own quirks, challenged and soothed my insecurities.
Alex synchronized his circling fingers with the thrusts of his hips, both speeding up, sweat gluing his chest to my back, the erotic slaps of skin on skin.
I came with a scream that poured out of me like my soul was tearing free, wild and wanton and unafraid. My silent lover jerked and clenched behind me, his words, as ever, swallowed by his passion.
And that was fine by me.
We lay side by side, panting and grinning inanely at each other.
“You can wake me every morning like that,” I smiled.
“Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”
He was still grinning when he spoke, but I knew that he wasn’t joking.
“I do mean it, but let’s take it slowly anyway. I like being wooed by you.”
He laughed quietly.
“I haven’t done any wooing! We haven’t even been to dinner or the movies yet.”
I turned on my side to look at him, lovingly running the tips of my fingers over his rough beard.
“Silly man! You wooed me every time yo
u did something kind for Katie, every time you made her smile, every laugh, every word you read to her. You wooed me with every injured bird, every crippled creature, every time your heart hurt for animals maimed and sick. Don’t you know that?”
His smile slid away.
“I wasn’t doing that to impress you.”
“I know, and that’s why it did.”
He sighed and closed his eyes.
“I’m not going to give you a jet-set way of life, Dawn. I’m never going to be the life of the party. Hell, I can’t even go in a bar right now or be around alcohol. I can’t talk when I meet strangers, and I’ll do things that you don’t approve of.”
“I know.”
“And . . . you’re okay with that?”
“Yes.”
He gripped my arms and pulled me on top of him, hugging me fiercely as he whispered into my hair.
“But I promise you this: I’ll love you harder than anyone else ever could. I’ll protect you and I’ll give you everything I have. I’ll be the man I need to be for you and for Katie.”
“I know. Because I love you, too.”
Tears glistened in his honey-colored eyes, his smile huge, and his lips when he pressed them to mine were full of intensity, full of passion, tasting of truth.
I felt loved. I felt needed. I felt rewarded.
We weren’t perfect, but we didn’t want to be. We were real and honest and probably going to make each other crazy. And stupidly happy.
An hour later, we were having a leisurely breakfast of eggs, toast and coffee. I tossed Alex’s freshly washed clothes in the dryer, and he wore a towel while we were eating, but his naked chest was very distracting. I couldn’t help imagining drizzling maple syrup over him then licking it off. And lots of other very wicked thoughts.
Alex kept catching me looking and would smile or wink.
I could get used to this.
Alex broke the tension by tugging my hand into his lap, then raising it to his mouth, kissing gently.
“What time will Katie be home?”
“In an hour or so. Why?”
“Because first, I want to take a shower with you, and second, I thought maybe I could fix you and Katie-kay lunch at my place today. It’ll just be pizzas . . .”
I didn’t even need him to finish speaking before I was nodding with enthusiasm.
One Careful Owner: Love Me, Love My Dog Page 26
