by Clare James
“And second,” I chimed in, trying to lighten his heavy words.
“I’m serious,” he said.
“So am I.” I replayed the way he just called me Jen. I liked it. I liked it a lot. “Everything that happened here tonight was perfect. I wouldn’t change a thing.”
Michael took my hand as we went across the street to the police station and he showed me around. He looked completely in his element, and I could see him having a career there. And the uniform, my God.
Dirty images of handcuffs and submission holds floated through my mind. Thankfully, Michael didn’t catch on.
“Where do you sit,” I asked him when we moved into the office area.
“Right this way.”
I followed him to the work area in the corner. He sat in one of those wheely chairs and I leaned up against the desk, taking it all in.
Then something caught my eye. It apparently caught Michael’s at the same time—a file with the words Top Dog on the tab. We both reached for it together. I got to it first.
“You can’t do that, Jen.”
I turned away from him with the folder, and flipped through the pages of information as fast as I could. There were notes and filings and paperwork with words like: not in compliance, high-risk animals, abuse, eyesore, dump. Page after page of insults to a place I thought was the greatest in the city. I even read a document that said the shelter’s building may have asbestos. That Sullivan was diabolical.
Michael didn’t say a word as I examined the folder. I’m sure he didn’t want to bring attention to his—what was I, a hook-up?—riffling through police documents.
I couldn’t have been much more than a hook-up to him, if he wouldn’t tell me about this. It was a big dirty secret to keep, especially when I opened up to him about my plans with the foundation, and when I shared everything that Sullivan had been doing to us.
What an idiot I was giving so much information to the enemy.
He had nothing to say and the way he was looking down at the moment, brought an image to mind.
“Was that you in the squad car the other day?” I asked him point blank.
“Hey, let’s not do this here.” He used a soothing voice, one that seemed rehearsed. It was a tone he probably perfected in his criminal justice training. Yep, I was the crackwhore he was trying to talk down.
But the more I read, the more distraught I became. The bottom dropped out from under me, and I couldn’t move.
In marathon running, we call this a power outage. It’s the road block that takes the life out of you, completely depleting you of all energy. The main cause: going too fast, too soon.
Sounded familiar.
More than that, my pride was hurt looking at that folder. Top Dog was where I worked, where I spent all my time. It was a good place, a flipping great shelter. Our animals were happy and we were doing honorable work. Sullivan could go fuck right off, and shoot, I caught a sob in my throat, so could Michael.
How could he do this to me?
“Can we go somewhere and talk?” he asked, his voice low.
“I have to get back to the dogs,” I told him, not daring to look at him head on. “I take it you can get yourself home.”
He nodded, and I didn’t look back.
17
Michael
Determined more than ever to get the dirt on Sullivan, I worked at the station until the early morning hours. Just as I expected, I found plenty of ammunition once I started digging.
I talked to Jones about it when he arrived in the morning, and he agreed that I could present my findings to the captain. I wasn’t about to let anyone hurt my girl.
Yeah, it was presumptuous to think that way, but that’s how I felt. I knew what it was like to be guarded, not to want to let anyone close. But hell, couldn’t I be done with that for now? Maybe try another way?
For me, letting someone in meant the risk of letting someone down—especially someone I cared about. But it was more than that. It was about my need to protect anything that was valuable to me. I’d come to realize that maybe I was taking on too much. And with my family, my job, my new career, did I really have room for something, or someone, else?
I guess I was willing to find out. Jenna might be used to people walking away or leaving, but I planned to stay. I owed it to myself to see where it was going to go. And if I was truly going to help people with my self-defense courses, I needed to come to terms with what happened to Tabby…and my role in it all. If I wasn’t in a healthy place to understand it, there was no way I could be in a place to help everyone else.
So once I went back in the gym to work on my demos for class, I let my mind drift back to that time that I never wanted to think about.
Tabby didn’t have to tell me what happened that day, everyone on campus knew. And because of who Thomas Richardson was, he got away with drugging my sister, and taking photos of her in all kinds of compromising positions. And when she reported him, her payback was so much worse.
I’d hung out with that crowd and heard stories, but never in a million years did I ever witness anything like what Thomas and his crew did to Tab. And for that reason, I didn’t really pay attention to the previous accusations.
Tabby wouldn’t talk to me about it, not that I tried very hard. It was easier to ignore. Until I watched how it was tearing her up inside. The weight-loss, the isolation, the depression. I’d never seen someone so broken, and still she battled on. She fucking fought, until she broke.
It was a memory that no matter how many times I tried, I could never forget:
When I was on campus that day, I went to check in on Tabby. I’d decided it was time that she open up and talk to me. I had to do something. I was approaching her dorm, when I saw the commotion. Thomas’ group of idiots had been following Tab, trying to get retribution for their friend.
I was closing in on them and could hear the exchange.
“Slut,” Johnny Milton coughed out.
“Trash,” another joined in.
I moved faster to try to get to her, planning my next move as I did.
“Whore.”
Then Johnny yelled, “There she is guys, the poster child for STDs.”
Tabby didn’t respond.
People were beginning to peek out of their dorm rooms and gather by her door. I was close, I was watching.
Then Johnny threw a condom at her and said, “Tabby, maybe next time you decide to put on a little show and make your way around the hockey team, you should use protection.”
The door to her dorm room was papered with photos of her at the party posing with various guys. Their faces were blacked out.
Nobody was doing anything to stop them, and then Johnny moved closer, catching her shoulder. God no, if anything happened to her I’d never forgive myself. I picked up speed.
Almost there.
I grabbed the asshole by the shoulder, and spun him around. Of course the other chickenshits scattered. I didn’t waste a moment before I nailed Johnny in the face with a right hook. And then I freaking went to town.
I vowed never to be silent again.
Johnny curled up on the floor.
“You got off easy this time, you dumb fuck,” I said. “The next time you bother my sister, you won’t get up. You get me?”
Johnny moaned.
“I said, do you get me?” I asked again after I dropped another kick to Johnny’s ribs
“Yeah,” cough, cough. “I get you, I get you,” he said.
And Johnny Milton never bothered her again.
Tabby never blamed me for that day, or any other. Christ, she even thought I was a hero just for showing up. I was no hero, but I also wasn’t to blame. No more than Tabby was. I was finally beginning to believe that.
But I also would never sit out or back down again. And that went for Jenna too. I wouldn’t stop helping her. I couldn’t.
Sullivan was taken care of, and I planned to make my peace with Tabby. Then, I was coming for Jen, if she’d only l
isten to me. I know she’d been burned before, but she had to hear me out. What happened between us wasn’t just sex. She had to know that, and it was up to me to make her understand.
I didn’t have all the answers, but when I got home and found the Buddy Walker that I’d given Jenna hanging over my door knob, my heart bottomed out. That certainly wasn’t a good sign.
Over the next few days, Jen ripped my fucking heart out. Piece by piece. She ignored me, as she had those first few days, despite my efforts to explain to her what she saw at the station. I was helping her, not hurting her.
“We need to talk,” I told her when she was finally forced to stop and listen to me. I lured Ruby over with a treat, and I wasn’t a bit ashamed.
“About what?” she snapped. The mask she loved to wear was on tight.
“How about what happened the other night for starters?” She would talk about this, and tell me what it meant to her. She owed me that much.
My throat dried up, and my stomach churned, because I hadn’t yet considered the possibility that what had happened in the gym wasn’t the same for her. Shit, my investigation could have easily been an excuse for her to get away from me.
It’d happened before. In Illinois, everyone I knew dropped me after Tabby’s assault. At first, I chalked it up to the lawsuit, and the power of the Richardson family, but the truth was, it was a way out. I never fit in with them, never had a real connection. Of course that was a good thing in the end, because those people were so damaged. I had that clarity now. But what did it say about me that they were the friends I chose…and I still wasn’t good enough for them. Why did I want people in my life who were so wrong for me?
I still wasn’t sure if Jenna fell into that category or not. But, either way, I had to know what I meant to her.
“What do you want me to say, Michael?” She dropped the mask and met my eyes, but there was no zing this time. No heat. She looked like I felt—completely wiped out.
“I want you to say it meant something to you,” I offered, honestly.
“Of course it did, otherwise I wouldn’t be so hurt that you’re trying to shut down Top Dog.” Her eyes were shiny, and the pain in them killed me.
“I’m trying—” I began before the dogs started to pull her away, and before I got the chance to tell her what exactly was going on with the investigation.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “The pups are a little messed up right now. Oscar’s sick and these two think they’re his protectors.”
I knew the feeling. And before I could say another word, she was gone.
I’d hoped talking to Jenna would clear up everything, but I was more confused than ever. She looked so unhappy. And I’d put that pain in her eyes. Foolishly, I thought I could wipe it all away by clearing up the misunderstanding, but then what?
What if my sister never accepted her, or us? What if she could never trust again? Or if I couldn’t? Should I really push this when I had no freaking idea what the future would hold? Maybe it was better to just cut our losses now, and stop pushing myself on someone who wasn’t meant for me.
I was so fucking confused and had nobody to help me figure it out. Tabby was good at this sort of thing, but even if she wasn’t out of the country, I couldn’t ask her about this…which, I guess, was kind of the point. If I couldn’t be honest about who I wanted, how could I be honest about what I wanted.
18
Jenna
As if finding out the guy you’re sleeping with (or slept with once) was trying to shut down your place of business wasn’t bad enough, I forgot all about Christian, and our date.
It was so lame, and really shitty of me, but I played sick. Then I ignored his calls, which was even shittier because I was putting Ruby’s future at risk. I was so damn selfish.
I just couldn’t deal with one other guy…except for Oscar. And with everything going on, I wasn’t ready to part with Ruby or Molly.
But for the next several days, I tried to focus on the positive—particularly for the shelter. I had an idea to get some good publicity to get the cops off our backs and Tris’ foundation on our side.
Tristan was excited about it, and was totally onboard, but after I gave him an overview of the plan, he could sense there was something wrong.
“I’m hearing something in your voice, Peterson,” Tris said on the phone. “What’s going on up there?”
“It’s just that fucking Sullivan,” I told him. He’d heard those exact words fly from my lips several times in the past few weeks.
Of course, that wasn’t the extent of my problems. I also missed Michael desperately.
Man, he’d really done a number on me, reminding me how good things could be with someone you cared about, and how it made every single thing in your life better. Even the dogs were sad without him.
“Hey,” Tris pulled me out of my daydream. “I haven’t heard you this wound up since you got into that tiff with Foster last year, are you okay?”
“I will be okay,” I assured him. I had no idea why I was picking now to break down, but I had to get over it. There was too much work to do. “Things are just a little stressful with the shelter and all.”
“Well, things are looking great from this end. We only have a few more steps to get the approval from the foundation. I’m sorry for the call, but I just wanted cheer you up, not bum you out. But since I’ve got you, why don’t you tell me what really has your undies in such a bunch.”
At this point, I had nothing left to lose so Tris got his wife, Aria, on the phone with us. Then, I proceeded to tell them both the long, sad story. Yeah, I told them the whole dang thing.
“What a prick,” Aria said. She always took my side. She was a girl’s girl, but Tris liked to play devil’s advocate.
“Babe.” He chided his wife. “We don’t know Michael’s reasoning for what he did. Maybe, he didn’t have a choice. This is his career we’re talking about.”
“What about honesty?” Aria snapped.
“What about being scared shitless by you women?” Tris countered.
We all laughed, which, let me tell you, felt a heck of a lot better than what I really wanted to do—which was cry.
“Okay, enough of us bickering,” Aria tried to soothe me, it was the mom in her. “What do you think, honey? How did Michael treat you?”
“Like I mattered,” I admitted. “Well, except when his sister was around. But we were working through that part. He didn’t want to put her through the wringer unless we both were sure about where our relationship was going.”
“And then he said, he’d come clean?” she pushed.
“He did,” I said.
“Jesus, Jenna,” Tris said. “What the heck did you do to the guy’s sister?”
“I gave her the mean girl treatment.” I cringed. “You remember what I was like.”
“Did she deserve it?” he asked, hopeful.
“Nope,” I spoke the truth. “And that’s the problem. She didn’t deserve it at all.”
“Well, honey,” Aria said. “Before you can work through any of this, you need to talk to the man.”
Little did I know, I was about to get my chance sooner than I expected.
Michael
“Hey, what’s going on?” I rushed into Jenna’s apartment just as fast as I could. I’d never heard her sound like that before and it made me wish for the Mr. Hyde version of her personality. She was on the verge of breaking when she called me at the station.
It wasn’t exactly an easy conversation telling Jones why I had to leave, but it turned out he used to be in the K-9 division. The big badass was a huge dog lover, which was why he’d wanted me to take the lead at Top Dog. He hated that case and was thrilled about what I’d been able to uncover about Sullivan.
He sent me on my way with a pat on the back, and I raced home.
When I arrived, Jenna was leaning over Oscar, who was tucked into a ball on the couch. It was about the saddest thing I’d ever seen.
“He’s really si
ck.” She looked over to me, biting her lip.
I went to her and sat on the edge of the sofa, petting Oscar’s head. He opened an eye and glared at me, like he was ready to pick a fight. When I’d seen him out walking this week, he didn’t seem happy with me, and he stayed close to Jenna’s side. But now he quickly diffused, released a loud sigh, and closed his eyes.
He was sick.
“What? How?” The questions started flying. “He was perfectly fine yesterday. What could’ve changed in such a short amount of time?”
A memory hit me, at the same time the words came out of Jenna’s mouth. The lawn. Oscar didn’t have the gut of steel that I thought he had.
He’d been outside eating the grass, and rocks, and who knows what the fuck else, before Jenna discovered that the area had been fertilized for the spring.
I couldn’t imagine how it felt ingesting that shit.
Poor guy, my heart squeezed when I looked at him—the wicked eyes and funny personality gone. If dogs could be pale, he was. He had on a doggie diaper and I knew he wasn’t happy about that one bit. He was lethargic, no energy, life to him, and so, so ill. It was hard to see him this way and I started to realize how attached I’d become to the mutt.
And if that wasn’t bad enough, the look on Jenna’s face was devastating.
“About an hour later, he just wasn’t looking right,” she said. “I tried flushing his mouth and rushed him into the emergency vet we use at work. He’s on antibiotics and the IV. He hates the diaper, but the more he can pee, the better. We have to get the toxins out of his body, and he’s just too weak to go out.”
“What can I do?” I asked as the puppies started nipping at my legs.
Jenna looked down at them and a single tear fell. “They’ve been by his side nonstop, but they need to get out for a bit. Would you mind taking them?”
“Of course, yes.” I went to the door and grabbed the Buddy Walker from the dog bin, happy to see that it was back in rotation. I left it for her with a note a few days ago and my flipping heart sang when she took the package inside.
