Junkyard Dog

by Katja Desjarlais

  A strange look crossed his face before he reached across the dinette and handed Charlotte her shirt. “Find a good place?”

  “Here,” she said, setting her phone down and sighing as he pulled his own shirt over his head. “You need pants.”

  *

  Alex propped his head up on his wrist and watched Charlotte as she slept, her face scrunching up every so often before she’d resettle with a huff.

  Marry her.

  The mantra had been playing in his head since they’d eaten their lukewarm breakfast in bed, his heart having recovered from the spike of adrenaline that had coursed through him when she had started dressing.

  He’d been so certain she was taking off, spooked by second thoughts. His stomach had sunk, the euphoria of minutes earlier replaced by a wave of nausea as he watched her casually flip through her phone, oblivious to how dark his thoughts were sinking.

  But it had also been that moment that solidified exactly how he felt about her.

  A soft knock on his door yanked him from the moment. He eased off the bed and padded to the door, opening it slowly and freezing as his mistress came into view.

  She smiled as she pushed past him and arched her neck to look into his bedroom. “Oh, good. She smartened up.”

  “She what?”

  Seph reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “Did she give you my message?”

  A chill ran through his veins. “You hunted her down.”

  “Appeared to her,” Persephone corrected haughtily. “Hunted her down. I’m not Athena.”

  Stepping between his mistress and Charlotte, he eyed Seph as she ran her fingers over his counter. “We can barter,” he said, unable to hide the plea in his voice. “Keep Ryan and Bo out of this, and I’ll sign on for anything. Anything. Just give me a few decades, Seph.”

  “Silly girl,” Persephone huffed. “Probably waiting for the right time to talk or some ridiculousness.” Lifting a perfect brow, she scanned the dinette bench and perched on the edge, arranging her skirt with excruciating slowness. “I expect visits alongside your brothers no more than two months apart to maintain your youthful appearance. Obviously, she can’t join you yet, but absence can be good in small doses, as I can personally attest.”

  He stared at her.

  “Your mission continues to take priority. That I couldn’t negotiate. But I was able to eliminate any punishment on the condition Charlotte accepts the pantheon both here and in the afterlife.”

  His jaw dropped as he took in the enormity of Persephone’s words. “You…”

  “You’re welcome. Talk it over with Charlotte and I’ll check in on you two in a week.” She rose to her feet and ran her hand over his chest. “You’re so lucky you’re pretty.”

  Chapter Forty

  Charlotte smiled politely at Daniel as he handed her a cup of coffee, sliding off her chair to join Alex and Thomas at the back booth. “Why don’t I hang out over there while you two talk?” she offered.

  “Stay, kid,” Thomas grunted, moving over to give her room and watching with interest when Alex stood and she slid in on his side. “So I take it you’re hanging around for a while.”

  Alex nodded, his hand resting on her knee, a move that didn’t go unnoticed by the elderly bar owner. “Looks like it. How do I get hired back on here?”

  Thomas leaned back in the booth and spread his arms across the back of the seat. “I have a full-time bartender and two part-timers coming on later this week,” he stated, nodding at Daniel. “I’m also in the market for a cook.” When Alex opened his mouth, Thomas grimaced. “Not you, obviously. You can’t cook.”

  “Okay,” Alex said slowly, glancing over at her. “You’re saying you don’t need any more staff.”

  “Nope.” Thomas pulled his phone from his pocket and set it down, swiping it to life and angling it to her. “See that? Cute little thing, isn’t he?”

  She grinned at the photo of an angry baby, sitting awkwardly in a car seat. “Oh, he’s sweet! Grandson?”

  “Yes, he is,” Thomas stated proudly, showing Alex. “I showed you him before.”

  Alex nodded, looking over the picture. “He’s getting big. Walking yet?”

  Thomas set his phone down and clasped his hands. “That’s the problem, Alex. He’s not walking yet. Or talking. But he will be soon. And I’m aiming to be around when it happens.” He settled back in his seat. “The problem we have here is I don’t want to be working my fingers to the bone anymore. I need someone to oversee the place. Someone who knows what they’re doing, knows the business enough to get by, and who needs the job.”

  Charlotte met Alex’s eyes, the disappointment in them nearly breaking her heart.

  Alex cleared his throat. “I suppose my documentation problem puts that out of my reach.”

  “Well, no,” Thomas said, waving off Daniel when he walked by to check on them. “If we were to come to an arrangement, I could maybe see my way to paying you out of my personal accounts. Paying the taxes through my name. Of course, it would mean you’d have no social security benefits or medical coverage. May not mean much to you now, but it will when you’re my age.”

  Alex glanced at her. “Yeah?”

  “Definitely.”

  He squeezed her knee and looked at Thomas. “I’d love to. When can I start?”

  “We’re interviewing for the kitchen in three days,” he stated. “Your job is to stand behind me and look threatening. Weed out the criers. Weaklings would never survive a Friday happy hour rush.”

  *

  Alex eased off the highway into the park, pulling over before he lost connection. “Nothing? A whole month and nothing? How’s that even possible in the age of the internet?”

  Ryan sighed, muttering something under his breath about the grease stains on his walls. “Just dead end after dead end,” he replied, exasperated. “No social media, no digital footprint at all. Unless he’s operating under an alias, the guy has no online presence whatsoever,” he grunted, a loud bang echoing through the phone. “I’m going to kill your brother one of these days.”

  “Do it.” He laughed. “What now?”

  “Boots. Overalls. Grease. Dirt. I can see the path he takes through here, because it’s etched into the carpet.” Ryan’s voice became more muffled. “You should see this. I’ll take pics and send them.”

  He glanced in his rearview mirror to ensure he wasn’t blocking anyone’s way. “At least he’s still holding a job.”

  “He could be holding a job and living with you,” Ryan countered.

  “Ah, yeah, no,” he muttered. “Charlotte’s actually moving in with me until we find a place on the edge of town.”

  Ryan went silent for a moment. “A little quick, isn’t it?”

  Grabbing his phone from the passenger seat, he switched it off the speaker. “We’ve discussed that. A lot. Hell, even Seph’s had her say. And it’s not like we’re eighteen-year-old kids.”

  “How’s Charlotte dealing with the whole pantheon thing?” Ryan pressed.

  He groaned and rolled his eyes. “Fine. Seph comes by every week for lessons, and to give her opinion on everything that doesn’t involve her.”

  “That sucks.”

  “It’s a small price to pay,” he argued, the temptation to hang up becoming strong. “I’m pulling into the park now, so I better go.”

  Ryan exhaled loudly. “You two going to play fetch?”

  He pulled his phone from his ear and looked down at the number for a moment. “Seriously?”

  “She’s not still trying to feed you bagged dog food, is she?” Ryan’s voice had gone from mild annoyance to a hint of humor. “That smell was horrendous.”

  He closed his eyes and groaned. “Please tell me Bo doesn’t know about that.”

  “Of course not,” Ryan said. “He’d just take it to the stupid level and it wouldn’t be funny anymore. Did you tell her how demeaning that is?”

  “Not in so many words,” he muttered. “But, yeah, I to
ld her. I’ll do anything for that woman. But never that again.”

  Ryan chuckled. “When does she move in?”

  “Thursday.”

  “You’re in for a big change,” Ryan warned. “Women don’t live like we do. You’ve seen Seph’s rooms.”

  He thought back to the opulent decor and rows of armoires packed to the brim with clothes and shoes and jewelry he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her wear. “It’ll be fine.”

  Ryan’s laugh barked over the phone. “I’m sure it will be. Good luck, brother. I’ll call if I find out anything new.”

  Setting his phone down, he pulled back onto the road and followed the paved trail to a secluded path where he could pull over and transform. He got out of the SUV and scanned the area, sliding a large collar around his neck and checking the time.

  More than enough time to hunt first.

  *

  Charlotte handed the cooler over to Max, smirking when he peeked inside. “That’s cheating.”

  “I said I’d bring lunch,” she stated. “I never said I’d make it.”

  Max lifted the takeout containers one by one and examined them, passing the grilled cheese over to Charlotte and hunching over the rest. “You sure Alex didn’t spit in this?”

  Thinking over the amount of ribbing Alex had endured from Max over the past month, she shrugged. “Possible. Does it matter?”

  “It should,” he replied, taking a bite of the BLT, “but it doesn’t.”

  She wrinkled her nose and dove into her own meal. “Seems so quiet around here now, doesn’t it?”

  “Good riddance,” he snorted, alternating between the containers. “FBI breathing down my neck for the past five months? No thanks. I’ll take my chances with the serial killer. Besides, he’s probably moved on.”

  She hummed in agreement. “Speaking of moving, you’re helping me Thursday after work.”

  “Says you. I’m going drinking.”

  Knocking the fry from his hand, she narrowed her eyes and tilted her hat back. “It’ll take three loads with your truck, a billion with my car.”

  He muttered under his breath, bending down to scoop the fry off the floor and inspecting it before popping it in his mouth. “Why isn’t Alex doing it? He’s the one getting laid on a regular basis. Let him haul your crap down those stairs.”

  “He’s working,” she replied, ignoring the rest of Max’s complaint. “Two trips to the storage unit, one to the trailer. That’ll take an hour.”

  “You’re buying me food after,” he conceded. “And three drinks.”

  Satisfied with their arrangement, she eased back onto the road, setting the rest of her sandwich aside for later. “Keys or Skull Rock?”

  “Better hit the Rock,” he mumbled through a full mouth. “It’s been stupid busy there this week.”

  They drove through the park slowly, pulling over periodically to pick up abandoned coffee cups and grocery bags. Skull Rock was crawling with tourists, their phones angled toward the unique structure from all sides as the braver people shimmied along the stone. Max waved her off when she got out of the truck, leaving him to digest in the air-conditioned vehicle.

  She wandered the perimeter of the attraction, nodding at friendly sightseers and scooping discarded cigarette butts from the sand until a familiar beast jogged over to her, startling the young man crouched at her side to capture the perfect photo of the rock with his phone.

  “He’s friendly,” she called to the poor kid as he backed away, eyes wide. She glanced down at Alex and looped the leash onto her wrist. “You have to stop doing that.”

  He nuzzled her hand, panting.

  She smirked. “You aren’t used to running that far anymore, are you? Stop eating out of the fry basket.” She pulled her phone from her pocket and checked the time. “You have two hours before work. I hope you parked close.”

  Padding alongside her, he scanned the area, his ears twitching with the multitudes of voices.

  He trotted up to the truck with her, sidling up to Max’s side and rising up on his hind legs, barking once and dropping down to all fours when Max jumped, cursing a blue streak behind the muffled protection of the closed windows. Pleased with the reaction, he nudged her for a quick ear scratch before he took off back over across the desert, head down on the trail of a rabbit.

  It was the one thing she was still trying to get over.

  “I hate that dog,” Max growled, throwing handfuls of fries from the floor into the empty takeout container. “And it hates me. You can see it. One of these days, it’s going to rip my throat out.”

  She rolled her eyes and flipped on her turn signal. “He is not.” She grinned at him. “Unless you piss me off.”

  *

  Alex glanced at the time, pausing his beer count to start the coffee. “Hey, Dan. Did we have an influx of old guys in here this week?”

  “Golf tournament,” Daniel called out, loading his tray and heading onto the floor.

  “Right,” he muttered, adding another case of the lager to his order. He turned his attention to the hard liquor, eying the remnants of the open bottles until Charlotte arrived, Max’s voice announcing their presence.

  Penning in the last of the order, he turned to her, grinning as he took in her sullen face. “I take it I was right about how many pairs of shoes you could tuck into that cupboard?”

  “Just give me a coffee and keep your rightness to yourself,” she grumbled, slipping him a little tongue when he leaned over the counter to kiss her. “And I’m paying for whatever dumbass over here orders.”

  Max waved cheerfully. “She’s all yours, man. Be warned, she’s discovered the space limitations of RV bathrooms.”

  He passed Max a beer and slid the liquor order under the till for morning. “We’ve still got a week left in the month,” he said, walking around the bar to stand beside Charlotte. “We could always flip everything to your apartment.”

  “There are two cabinet doors,” she stated, resting her head against his arm. “Why have two when one is just plumbing? It’s dishonest and deceitful.”

  “Both of those, eh?” he teased. “I’m serious. We can change our minds.”

  She took a sip of her coffee and shook her head. “No way. That new development on the edge of town will be listing soon and I don’t want to be locked into another lease on that apartment. It would dip into our travel fund.” She trailed her fingers up the inside of his arm, sending a shiver through him. “Oh, and I rearranged some of your stuff that didn’t fit. Seph said you wouldn’t mind.”

  Thinking through the short list of items he owned, he frowned. “Do I still live there?”

  “Barely.” She smiled. “When are you off?”

  Looking around the room, he did a quick rundown of what was left to do for the night. “An hour or so. Are you waiting for me or heading home?”

  When she bounced in her seat with a rare giddiness, it took him a moment to realize why.

  Home.

  He grinned. “You’re waiting.”

  *

  Alex followed Charlotte into their trailer, scanning the place slowly as she talked a mile a minute about what she’d moved where to accommodate the influx of stuff in the small space. “All I need to know is where’s my phone charger, where’s the coffee, and where are my boots?”

  She hopped over to him, opening a cupboard to reveal the coffee and a plethora of small appliances he didn’t recognize and was certain she didn’t know how to use. “Charger’s by the bed,” she replied, pointedly ignoring his last questions in favor of showing him a photo of a rolling storage unit she swore would tuck under the kitchen table.

  “My boots?”

  She stepped up tight to him and ran her hands through his hair, a move he was becoming very accustomed to. “Well, my boots aren’t as sturdy as yours, so mine are down there in the shoe cabinet. Yours are in the belly box outside.”

  He cocked a brow. “All right. Show me the rest.”

  Making her way through every p
ossible hiding place, she revealed crammed cabinets and cupboards he hadn’t even known he had. Marbles lay sprawled out on the sofa, opening one eye as he passed her and averting her gaze when he growled softly.

  He was, after all, still the alpha. Even if his boots were relegated to the exterior of the trailer and the damn cat had a litter box in the cabinet where his stereo once sat.

  Charlotte led him to the bathroom and paused. “Remember that right now we have doubles of some things.”

  She sat on the edge of the bed and bit her lip as he stuck his head into the bathroom, shrugging when he saw the cluttered counter. “We’ll just move all that into the vanity and it’s fine.” He flicked open the mirrored door to prove his point, closing it without a word and checking the cabinet under the sink. “If you ever doubt my commitment to you, I want you to remember that you tucked the razor I put to my face under the drain trap.”

  “Promise,” she said, her giddiness returning as he closed the bathroom door and looked around the bedroom. “I had to move a few of your shirts over there to get my work clothes in the closet, but I think I made it all fit.”

  She opened each door with a flourish, revealing stacks of clothes he couldn’t remember ever seeing before.

  “Do you even wear those?” he asked, pointing at a pile of bright T-shirts neatly folded and stacked to the top of a cabinet.

  “I might.”

  He licked his lips and scanned the room. “I’m impressed. You made it work.”

  She crawled across the bed and rose up on her knees, running her hands up his chest. “You sure you’re good with this? We aren’t moving too fast, are we? I’m not pushing you on this, am I? I mean, we’re slowing down after this, so—”

  “If anyone’s pushing anything, it’s Seph.” He grinned, thinking back to the week prior when his mistress had stormed into the tavern demanding to know why a month had gone by without a wedding, completely aghast to learn human relationships didn’t progress at the same speed those of the gods did.