“I don’t keep up with the races.” Sofia shook her head. “I mean, I’m not really a dog person.”
“Looks like you are now.” Elizabeth Jane laughed and gave Sofia a hug hello. Sofia had never been a hugger, but she’d learned to grin and bear it with Liz.
“What can you tell us about him?” Scarlett asked at the same time Wolfie and her dogs struck up a wrestling match in the middle of the living room floor, complete with play growls and flying fur.
Wolfie’s growls sounded different than those of the huskies. Would he accidentally hurt the two smaller dogs? Neither Liz nor Scarlett said anything, so Sofia did her best to swallow down her worry and focus on their conversation.
She’d practiced Wolfie’s origin story on the way over and repeated the exact words she’d prepared for the occasion. “I found him walking along the side of the road. When I opened my door, he jumped right in. He gets scared easily and likes to hide under the table. He also pees. A lot. But not a single drop of it has been outside.”
Now Scarlett’s face twisted with concern. She bit her lip, then asked, “Are you sure he was ever a pet?”
Sofia shrugged, thinking back to her first glimpse of Wolfie chained out in some shanty’s front yard. “Maybe. Maybe not. But he is my pet now, and I want to do right by him.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure he’s not a pure wolf,” Elizabeth Jane said as she appraised Wolfie from across the room. “But he’s not a pure husky, either.”
“Actually, he might be part Malamute,” Scarlett argued. “It would explain the size. And why he reminds me so much of Fred.”
Sofia remembered what the cute cop at the vet’s office had said about wolf hybrids being illegal. She had hoped he was wrong about Wolfie, but apparently Scarlett and Elizabeth Jane saw it, too. She gulped. “Why does his breed matter? Isn’t every dog its own person?”
“Well, yes and no. If he’s a wolf hybrid, then that kind of changes everything.” Scarlett’s eyes widened, and she looked to Elizabeth Jane before speaking again. “Keeping a wolf hybrid as a pet is super illegal in Alaska.”
“You can’t be serious?” Sofia feigned shock. At this point, her rap sheet was getting to be as long as a CVS receipt.
Liz gulped and shook her head. “Afraid so.”
“Well, who said anything about a wolf hybrid? He’s a sled dog mutt. Malamute, you said?”
Scarlett sighed. “Yeah, but—”
“But nothing. He’s had a tough life, and I’m not abandoning him, so forget anything about wolf hybrids.”
“But you’re the one who named him Wolfie,” Scarlett said, hardly above a whisper.
Sofia had only just met Elizabeth Jane’s former roommate, but already she didn’t much care for her. She’d come to her friend and former employee for help, and she really didn’t need this wispy blonde girl judging her about it.
“Yeah, because he reminded me of the Three Little Pigs and Little Red Riding Hood,” she snapped, giving Scarlett a pointed gaze. “Not because I honestly thought he was part White Fang.”
Scarlett twisted her hands in her lap and bit her lip again. “If you’re sure…”
Sofia glanced toward Elizabeth Jane. Why wasn’t their supposed friend helping either of them? Where was her head at today?
Elizabeth Jane kept her eyes glued to the floor, leaving Sofia to fight for her own honor.
“I’m sure,” she said with what she hoped was a peace-keeping smile. “Now do you have any idea what I can do about all the peeing and hiding under the table?”
Sofia nodded as Scarlett gave her loads of advice and even texted her links to different web articles on separation anxiety, obedience training, and pack dynamics. Liz pitched in advice occasionally, but clearly, she was distracted by something she didn’t feel comfortable sharing with the others.
Or at least with Sofia.
Had she interrupted something important between Scarlett and Elizabeth Jane? And, if so, what was it?
Suddenly, Sofia felt incredibly alone.
Sofia stayed for a late dinner at Scarlett’s insistence. Even though the two friends of Elizabeth Jane had eventually started to warm to each other, Sofia was more than ready to head home and crawl into bed.
Wolfie, for his part, seemed to enjoy the company of the two huskies. Scarlett even gave them a standing invite for a doggie playdate whenever Sofia and Wolfie wanted to drop by for a visit.
Sofia appreciated the help but—between work, Blinky, and now this visit—she’d already had more than enough extroverting for the week.
Unfortunately, fate had other ideas as Sofia headed out of the building and into the night. A thud sounded from across the parking lot, which set Wolfie on the defensive. And when a woman appeared from around the dumpster, he raised the ridge of hairs on his back and let out a low growl.
“It’s okay, boy. It’s okay. C’mon,” Sofia urged, trying to direct him the rest of the way toward her car, but Wolfie remained rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed narrowly at the woman as she approached them.
Oh, please don’t attack this person, Sofia prayed.
“Sofia Stepanov, is that you?” the woman asked in an unsettlingly familiar voice, as she moved in front of a street lamp, illuminating her auburn hair and delicate features.
Crap. Sofia knew exactly who stood before her now, and it was someone she had hoped she’d never meet another day in her life. “Hi, Celeste,” she murmured.
“Oh my gosh!” Celeste cried, raising both hands to cover her mouth, even though presumably she’d just been handling garbage. “It is you! Look at you, all grown up!”
Sofia rolled her eyes as she’d always done when dealing with the former teen queen. There were few people in the world Sofia liked less than Celeste Lyons, especially now that coming face-to-face with the woman sent a tremendous wave of guilt rippling through her core.
Sofia shook her head and did her best not to frown. “Yes, I’m a grown-up now.”
“You haven’t changed one bit,” Celeste exclaimed with the shimmer of fresh tears in her cornflower blue eyes.
Have you? Sofia wanted to ask. Did you learn anything since high school?
These questions were meant to be rhetorical, which meant Sofia definitely wasn’t expecting what came next.
Celeste let out a dramatic sigh and released a torrent of tears that seemed like they might even be real. “Sofia, I’m really glad I ran into you, because I want to tell you how sorry I am for… well, everything Allie and I did to you. We were just stupid kids, you know?”
Sofia waved her off, but Celeste kept rambling on anyway.
Please stop, Sofia thought on loop, trying to drown out Celeste’s apology. She didn’t want to remember what they had done to her… or what she had done to them. Of course, Celeste had no idea she had ever taken her revenge, or that it had changed the course of her life so much. With any luck, she would never know.
Celeste sniffed and wiped at her eyes as if the memories were now causing her physical pain. “No, really. We were just awful to you. Nobody deserves to be treated that way. Could you ever forgive us? Forgive me?”
“Water under the bridge,” Sofia said without meeting her eyes.
Wolfie growled beside her.
Celeste’s entire face lit up with joy. No wonder she’d been the lead in the school play every year since kindergarten. “Do you mean it? Really? Oh, thank you so much. You have no idea what a weight off my chest this is.”
Sofia glanced toward Celeste’s barely-there chest area and swallowed back the sarcastic comment beginning to form in her throat. One of the reasons the other students had teased Sofia mercilessly was due to her early and ample bosom development. Well, the joke was on them. Sofia now filled out a dress wonderfully, and Celeste had never crossed the line between a B and C cup.
“Yeah, okay. Well, I have to get him home,” Sofia said politely, gesturing toward Wolfie, who was still noticeably upset by the presence of Sofia’s former bully.
“
Oh, sure. Right. Can we…” Celeste glanced around the parking lot before continuing. “Can we meet sometime? Maybe catch up?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll see you around.” Sofia tightened her grip on Wolfie’s leash and hurried as fast as she could toward her car without actually running.
“Okay, you’ve got my attention,” she muttered to God as she jammed her key into the ignition. “But I have no idea what you’re trying to say.”
Sofia called in sick to work the next day. A gnawing feeling had developed in her gut from the moment she’d first liberated Wolfie from his chains—and seeing Celeste the night before had kicked it up several notches.
There was no way she could play nice with preppy mall moms and their tweens today. No, she needed some time to get her head on straight, to remember all the things she loved in life, and to remind herself that—yes—she’d done a bad thing, but she’d done it for all the right reasons.
And the best way to find her center would undoubtedly be to feel the thread between her fingers, to bring simple parts together to create something wonderful.
Fashion proved to be both predictable and unpredictable at the same time, and she needed that now. If you followed your pattern and took all the right steps, you’d end up with a completed garment every single time. But the range of possibilities was also endless. She could just as easily create a ball gown as she could a cocktail dress. Or a business suit.
Through fashion, she could help others see her the way she saw herself. Sofia could also change how she felt inside. A little satin, a few buttons, and a whole lot of confidence.
It was like magic.
She’d been so proud of the first dress she’d made by her own hands. Over Christmas break one year, her grandmother had shown her how to work the old Singer sewing machine and given her a pattern to follow. While the seams were a little loose in some places and the hemline more than a little uneven, Sofia had never seen a nicer garment in all her life.
It was intoxicating, weaving all the separate parts together to make a new whole. In a way it meant that anything could be reshaped, restructured, reinvigorated, if only you had a little thread and time.
She liked that then, and she lived by it now.
Sewing would clear her mind, return her to herself.
Yes, when taken individually, she’d committed a few small crimes over the past week. But put them together? She’d saved a life, and that felt pretty darn great.
Each day Wolfie seemed to trust her more, peed on her less, and generally began to treat her like a partner and friend.
Sofia and Wolfie against the world, for better or worse.
Happily ever after.
Yes, she’d always fancied herself a fairytale character, but she generally related more to the ugly stepsister or the placeholder best friend, the girl who got cast aside when the real heroine made her appearance.
Now with Wolfie at her side, she felt strong, brave, worthy.
She’d contributed something positive to the world in saving him. No, she wasn’t as selfish as her father had always claimed. She’d taken risks, and she hadn’t even wanted a dog—let alone one that was part wild animal.
Seeing Wolfie raise his hackles to defend her last night, though, proved that the risks she’d taken to help him had been well worth it. This dog understood her. Somehow he knew Celeste was not a friend, and he warned her away.
Just like that.
Sofia didn’t have to say a word. If only people could be like that.
As she worked on the neckline for a new blouse, she thought back to the first time she’d looked into Wolfie’s amber eyes.
He’d seen her then, but she saw him now, too.
And she would do whatever it took to keep him safe and to keep him with her, illegal or not. Some things were above the law.
Like love. Like friendship.
Power coursed through Sofia’s veins as she worked the pedal under her foot. She’d made a difference. She’d done something huge. Which meant she could do it again. She could change her life if she wanted to.
Like those fairytale princesses, she only had to believe it in her heart.
No more dead-end retail job. She’d taken one risk and now it was time to take another. To believe in herself and her fashions. To do what she loved for real—for a living.
Blinky had said he assumed rebel was a fashion choice for her. Maybe it would be a fashion choice for others, too. She loved the flowy skirts and bright patterns of retro fashion. What would it look like to marry them with the sharp lines and bold insignias well-loved by rebels the world over?
Yes, that was the direction she needed. Something new and fresh. A whole new line to make her mark on the world, to clothe even more strangers, to help them feel the confidence she felt now.
Vigilante.
That’s what she’d become when she rescued Wolfie that day, and now that was what she’d call her new fashion line.
Sometimes people just had to take matters into their own hands, to make their own way. A vigilante was even better than a rebel, because vigilantes got things done. Just like Sofia would get things done, first by prepping her new fashion line and then by making a living doing what she was born to do.
All with her living spirit animal—with Wolfie—right by her side.
Are you coming?
The text from Blinky lit up Sofia’s phone. She hadn’t planned on meeting Blinky and his friends at the Miners Pub, but she also hadn’t planned on having a three-day stroke of creative fury for her new fashion line.
Her first custom Vigilante dress was all stitched up with no place to go.
Sofia took a moment to eye the knee-length frock with the sweetheart neckline and belle sleeves. Normally she preferred to stick to a stark black pallet, but for this special garment, she’d ventured slightly out of her comfort zone, crafting the dress with a stunning sapphire blue. The bell-shaped sleeves hid little bursts of candy apple red that were only visible when she lifted or waved her arms. The undercarriage of the skirt was also lined with red tulle, so that if she found herself having a Marilyn Monroe moment, all eyes would be on the dress and not her bright yellow underwear beneath.
She’d recently dyed the ends of her hair a matching red, which completed the look perfectly. And all her best tattoos were visible, too—including her newest, a watercolor design sporting a snake wrapped around an apple.
The forbidden fruit.
It would be a shame to keep this gorgeous new ensemble hidden in the bowels of her closet. Visiting Blinky and his friends for a few hours was just as good an excuse as any to take it out for a spin.
And, really, what could it hurt getting to know one of her work friends outside of the mall? Sofia had finally forgiven herself for obtaining Wolfie and the supplies needed to take care of him by less than legal means. She’d cooled off from her weird encounter with Celeste, too.
The weekend had arrived, and she may as well put on her best party dress to go shoot some pool with Blinky and whatever ragtag band of friends he’d managed to acquire on his few hours spent outside of Pets R Us.
Sofia didn’t get out enough, either. Maybe it was time to change all that.
Maybe tonight would be the start of something new and wonderful.
Maybe, maybe…
Yes, she texted back. I’ll be there. What time?
Wolfie whined and stuck his face between his paws as he watched Sofia get ready. He’d been her only company these last couple days and had apparently gotten used to the sight of her in pajamas with her hand mussed up and no bra or makeup.
“Aww, Wolf,” Sofia tutted. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
Wolfie let out another sharp whine and anxiously pawed at the carpet.
Sofia puckered her lips and applied a fresh coat of her favorite lipstick. “How about I bring you a hotdog when I come back? Yeah? You want a hotdog?”
Her canine companion lifted his head tentatively and thumped his tail three times before falling
back into his previous position.
Sofia laughed. “You drive a tough bargain. Okay, two hotdogs!” She waved her fingers as if talking to a toddler and not a too-intelligent-for-his-own-good wolf hybrid.
Wolfie barked and licked a trail of slime up Sofia’s bare leg.
“Hey, now we’re spit buddies,” she joked, patting Wolfie’s head playfully as she thought back to all the summers she’d spent at music camp with plenty of time to practice her oboe, but very few friends to keep her company outside of recitals.
This was ridiculous.
Sofia was a grown-up. She had friends who wanted to spend time with her. She’d become a talented—albeit struggling—fashion designer. Yeah, she’d come a long way from that lonely twelve-year-old girl, a long way from that angry teen who would do anything to get even with her tormentors…
“No, mustn’t think like that!” she sang to Wolfie, grabbing her keys and a small clutch before floating out through the door. “TTFN!”
Walking into the Miners Pub felt like a scene straight out of a movie. It wasn’t that everyone’s eyes snapped to the doorway where Sofia stood backlit like some kind of barroom angel, because that definitely didn’t happen. Actually, only one person seemed to notice her arrival at all, but when he did, his eyes locked onto her, pulling her toward him like a fish on the line.
“So we meet again,” the handsome dog-owning police officer, Hunter, said with a bright, shining grin that made Sofia wilt beneath the heat of his gaze.
Sofia nodded. “Hi,” she managed, taken once again by just how perfect everything about this man seemed. Well, everything except for the fact that he was a cop and that she had committed at least three crimes in the past week.
Hunter kicked back the chair next to him in one fluid motion. “Have a seat and tell me what you’re drinking. It’s on me.”
She climbed up onto the seat cautiously, careful to arrange her dress in a way that wouldn’t wrinkle or show off too much skin. “I don’t drink, actually.”
Season of Mercy Page 3
