"Hey there, buddy," she breathed. She took a hot dog from the package and ripped off a small chunk. "Want some food?" She waved the meat in front of her as enticingly as possible.
The dog's cropped stumps of ears perked up and the loose skin of his forehead wrinkled as she got his attention. She bent to hand him the food, but at the last minute chickened out and tossed it over instead.
The beast gingerly pushed himself forward a few inches and grabbed the hunk of meat, eagerly swallowing it in one gulp.
"At least you can move," she muttered. But moving and jumping into a car were two different things. She eyed her truck bed. There was no way he could clear the height of her tailgate.
She took a deep breath. "Okay, buddy. Let's do this." She took out a much bigger piece of hot dog this time and waved it in front of his face. "Here, pit bull, pit bull, pit bull. You know you want it."
Apparently he didn't know he wanted it, because he stayed right where he was and stared intently at the food in her hands. But after some patience, and a few failed techniques, she finally found what worked. In her frustration at the animal who didn't seem to realize she was trying to help, she planted herself on the ground next to the truck, and stared at the dog. Her crumpled form on the ground must have eased him, as he finally pushed himself up and gingerly padded over to her.
She held her breath, hand outstretched with some of the last remaining hot dog.
As his massive jaw came closer and closer to her hand, she felt her heart beat harder in her chest. What if he was so hungry he took a chunk of her arm too? What if she looked at him the wrong way?
But he ever so gently picked a piece of meat from her palm and swallowed before he came back for the other piece. When her hand was empty, a tongue almost as big as her palm licked at the skin for any particles of food he'd missed. For the first time, she allowed herself to touch the animal, the soft folds of skin and fur on his chin softer than she ever expected. "Thanks for not biting me," she squeaked out as she grew bolder and stroked the dog's neck, carefully avoiding any of his wounds.
CHAPTER FOUR
"What the hell did you do?" asked Gabrie as she stormed in.
Jack turned from the vending machine to stare at her. "You found Tank?"
She set a hand on her hip as she glared at him, and Jack had to bite back a smile. Between his pounding headache, knowing that his car was totaled, and looking around every corner for a pissed-off Drake, Gabrie really was a sight for sore eyes.
She wasn't quite as put together as normal. Whips of hair had fallen out of her tight ponytail to hang wildly around her face, and the bottom of her shorts was littered with little burrs.
"So the beast has a name?"
Jack shrugged. "That's what I called him last night. Don't know what his real name is."
She glanced over her shoulder as if to verify no one was too close. "You want to tell me exactly what happened last night?"
For a brief moment, he considered lying. For her own good, of course. Drake was a little north of crazy even before the decades of hard drug use, and he would prefer Gabrie not get in the middle of his shit.
But the second she moved into Cross Falls, Drake considered her Jack's woman. Hell, the second she'd come to Cross Falls, he'd screwed her up against a wall. She was his responsibility, even if that meant telling her the truth.
"Well, you already know I wasn't in a great mood last night." A blush crept up her cheeks and he realized what she thought. "Hell, no. Not because of—it has nothing to do with you saying no. After you left Jim's, a guy I used to know came over. Drake Roch. He was a waste of space in high school and now he's a waste of space with a bunch of drug money. He was giving me shit, saying I owed him money because he got busted right before graduation with a huge stash in his trunk and I was supposed to be the lookout."
Gabrie narrowed her eyes and took a step back. "Lookout?" she asked. "Who the hell are you?"
He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck before he remembered that it hurt like a bitch to touch anything even close to the two-inch gash in his forehead. "It was a long time ago. I moved on. Drake didn't. But now he thinks that he can somehow wring me for money after Philip croaks, and he not so subtly mentioned you."
Her eyes widened. "Me? Why the hell would he bring me into it?"
"To show he could get to me."
She shook her head. "No. We're not a thing. He can't use me for anything."
Jack nodded. "Sounds like a plan. Why don't I wait 'til the son of a bitch kills you and then I can laugh in his face for thinking we could possibly be together."
She crossed her arms. "This is all your fault."
"Hey, Darren's the one who invited you. If he'd met you at the house like he was supposed to, none of this would've happened."
"If you didn't make a habit of hanging out with murderous drug dealers, this wouldn't have happened!" She took a breath and once again looked around as they made their way back to his room. "But get back to explaining how the dog got in the shed."
Jack moved to rub the back of his neck again, but remembered ahead of time not to touch his sore head. "I was out driving around Drake's place and for some stupid reason, I got out of my car."
"And where did you get the bright idea to light his house on fire?"
Jack opened his mouth and closed it. Fuck. It really did sound crazy. But at the time, he'd been so pissed off and the sound of cheering and growls coming from the barn only made him more pissed.
But then he'd seen Tank. The dog was chained to a tree, with about three feet he could move in any direction. Not that the dog needed much room. He could barely stand. It was the sight of that dying dog, compounded with his frustration over Gabrie, Darren, and Philip, that had pushed him over the edge. "I was angry. Really angry. Drake was just a convenient face to blame that anger on. I figured if I set a big enough fire, the police would have to come out and they'd bust Drake and it would get him out of my hair. And the dog was too close to the house. If I left him, he'd probably die in the fire. I wasn't trying to kill anyone."
Gabrie pursed her lips as she looked him over, and he tried not to stare. Damn it. He was supposed to be forgetting she existed, not staring at her lips. "The dog needs meds. Antibiotics. He's showing signs of infection already, but hopefully we can get him drugs before it's too bad. I was going to get some last night when Drake's guys ran me off the road."
She raised a brow. "We? This is a you problem."
He looked around as they got back to his room. "I should be out of here soon. Don't worry about it. I'll grab some meds."
"Wait." She set a hand on her hip. "Where the hell did you expect to get antibiotics in the middle of the night?"
He clenched his jaw, knowing she wasn't going to like the answer. "I was going to the vet's office."
"Oh, God." She rolled her eyes. "Tell me you weren't going to rob the place."
"He's the only vet in thirty miles and from what I hear, he's a regular at Drake's. I couldn't take the dog in for an appointment."
She shook her head. "What were you going to do? Smash the window in with a brick?"
"I was thinking more along the lines of a crowbar, but you've got the general idea." Her mouth dropped open and he took a step back.
"You're a horrible thug," she muttered. "You stay here and get better. I will take care of the damn dog, okay?"
"No." He shook his head. "You said it yourself. I've dragged you way too far into this mess. I brought Tank home and I'll take care of him."
"Please, rich boy. I've been conning people way longer than you."
He looked her up and down. She'd mentioned her shady past before, but he'd never really thought his hot new roommate looked like the law-breaking type. But maybe that was what made her so good at it. "No," he repeated. "There are cops watching the house right now. You can't chance anything."
"It's like magic. Every word coming out of your mouth somehow makes me more and more pissed off. Why are there police at Cross F
alls?"
"Because a dangerous drug kingpin wants me dead and thinks I care about you. If I can't be there, I want someone watching out for you."
She shot daggers with her eyes. "I'll admit that we don't know each other that well, but you need to understand this. I. Don't. Like. Cops. I have a gun. I can handle myself."
He looked over her short shorts, flip-flops, and t-shirt tight enough to hint at her generous breasts and the curve of her hips. "You have a gun?"
"Not on me. You just get some rest. Visit your father while you're here. I'll take care of the meds and play nice with my new babysitter."
~~~~~
Gabrie eyed the vet's office. Unfortunately, Jack had been right. There was only one animal hospital in the area. She could maybe get Tank back in the truck and drive forty-five minutes to a clinic in the next larger town, but antibiotics weren't exactly oxytocin. All she had to do was think of an angle and she was sure she could get them from this vet.
A man in a waist-length brown coat emerged from behind the building and walked down the street. Gabrie's gaze followed him until he disappeared into a nearby diner. It could be the vet. It could be some random employee.
She was new in town, so she could be whoever she wanted to be. Except she was filthy and her hair was a mess from finding Tank to begin with.
But Jack told her one of the most important things about the local vet. He was an addict. Addicts could be unpredictable, and that would give her some credibility. If Drake was hosting dogfights, it would be mighty convenient to have a vet as a friend.
Which meant the woman who worked the front desk was probably used to one or two strange requests.
Gabrie pulled the hair tie out of her ponytail and fluffed up the dark locks. After a quick glance at herself in the rearview mirror, she pulled down her tank top until an almost embarrassing amount of cleavage showed. She opened the door, forgetting to brace herself against the blistering South Carolina summer heat. She took a deep breath of the humid air and scanned the street. Not a huge early afternoon crowd and, most importantly, no cops.
Comfortable that the coast was clear, she strode across the street. The sign over the office read Norton's Animal Care. She had no idea whether Norton was the vet's first or last name, so she'd have to wing it. The lobby was empty except for one girl who sat behind the counter. Gabrie tried to guess her age, but she could be anywhere between sixteen and twenty. Her nametag said Amy.
Gabrie planted an annoyed expression on her face and approached the girl. "I'm here to pick up some antibiotics."
Amy smiled up at her. "Sure. What's your pet's name?"
"Umm..." Gabrie blinked in confusion. "Drake sent me here for antibiotics for one of his dogs. He didn't say the name."
Amy frowned. A tinge of disapproval snuck into her expression. "You know Drake?"
"I know his dog," said Gabrie. "Do you have the antibiotics or should I call Norton?"
"Hold on." Amy sighed. "He didn't leave anything for you, but I can grab some from the back."
As the girl turned away, Gabrie smiled at her victory. Crowbar, her ass. Why go breaking and entering when she could just walk in the front door and ask for it? If Norton found out, he'd have to admit he was supplying medical supplies to Drake's dogfighting operation. If Drake found out—well, he was already wanted by the police and possibly wanted her dead anyway.
Amy set a bottle of pills on the counter. "There you go."
Gabrie turned the bottle in her hands. "So, one pill a day?"
"How big is the dog?" Amy rolled her eyes.
"I'm not sure," she said honestly. "Maybe ninety pounds."
Amy scribbled directions down on a scrap piece of paper. "One in the morning and one at night. Make sure you give it with food or it might make him nauseous."
Gabrie snatched the paper away. "Great. Thanks." She turned and walked out of Norton's, anxious to get to her car before the good vet came back and wondered who the hell she was.
She tried her best not to break any speed limits on her way back, but Tank needed these pills sooner rather than later. Right before she turned off Main Street, she remembered that Tank needed to take the medicine with food. So after a quick stop to pick up some cans of dog food, she was back on the way to Cross Falls.
As promised, a Hampton Falls squad car was parked at the end of her driveway. She wanted to drive straight past and get to caring for Tank, but she forced herself to slow down and roll down her driver's side window. The officer did the same and she frowned when she saw it was Chris. "I didn't realize I was important enough to have the sheriff watch my place."
He gave her his charming Southern smile. "I thought you'd enjoy some company."
"I've got lots of work to do and I was supposed to start hours ago. So no company for me."
The smile dropped. "Ms. Moss, do you have a problem with police?"
She tightened her lips as she stared him down. Rule number one with cops: the smart ones already knew the answers to the questions they were asking. "You looked me up," she said.
"When I heard that you used to live around these parts, I got curious. You have quite the rap sheet."
She narrowed her eyes. "I pleaded guilty to shoplifting once. I wouldn't call that a rap sheet."
"So you're telling me that's the only time you broke the law, ever?"
She stared him down, not about to admit all the times she'd narrowly avoided being caught for breaking and entering or the cons she'd become so good at pulling when she was sixteen. "I sped on the way here. You going to arrest me?"
Chris shook his head. "I'm sorry. This isn't coming out how I want it. I meant to say, Hampton Falls is a nice place. Nice views. Nice people. And, as far as I'm concerned, you have a clean slate, okay? So, even if you hate police, you don't have to hate me."
Gabrie tried to figure out whether he was bullshitting her, but could only detect sincere honesty in his words. Under different circumstances, she might've even invited him inside to give him a break from sitting in his car under the hot sun.
But she had a massive, sick dog waiting for her inside that Jack had obtained by less than legal means. So even if Chris let her start with a clean slate, she'd already scribbled all over it.
"I do appreciate all you're doing for me, but I don't need your protection," she said. "But if it makes you feel better, I have a concealed pistol—licensed, of course—and I keep it loaded."
"I'm not sure if this will make you feel better or worse, but in all honesty, I'm not here for you. We're convinced Drake is upset with Jack and is going to come after him. So we're hoping we can catch him in the act."
Gabrie scoffed. "There I go again, making everything about me."
Chris bent towards his passenger seat and then held out a card to Gabrie. "My cell phone is listed on here as well as the main lines to the department. If you hear or see anything that concerns you, just call."
She plucked the card from his hand and eyed the numbers listed on the back. "You'll be the first one I call if I feel threatened. Promise."
"Why do I feel like you're lying to me?" The corner of his mouth hooked up.
She blinked at the frank question. "Honest! I don't want a crazy drug dealer I've never met coming after me for no reason. You can deal with that shit. It's your town."
"Does that mean you're not planning on staying?"
Gabrie opened her mouth and closed it. How had the conversation turned so quickly? "After I get Cross Falls fixed up, I don't think I'll be sticking around." On the slim chance she was able to get some sort of internship or entry-level position in the home decorating business, there just wasn't enough clientele in Hampton Falls to keep her employed.
"That's a shame." Chris shrugged.
"Yeah," she muttered. "I really need to get back to work..."
He waved her on. "Don't let me hold you up. I'll be here for a few more hours if you need anything."
"Thanks for doing this." She drove up the drive to the house. Something about
the sheriff nagged her. He was just too...nice. He didn't know her. And for all she could tell, he wasn't trying to get in her pants or anything. So what was his endgame? He obviously wasn't Jack's biggest fan, so he wasn't sitting outside Cross Falls out of loyalty to a friend.
She shook off her concerns as she got out of the truck and unlocked the front door. Before doing anything else, she jogged over to the small downstairs bedroom she'd left Tank in. The dog was on the floor, right where she'd left him. His head lifted as she opened the door and his tail lightly thumped against the floor.
"Don't wag your tail at me," she said. "You're Jack's dog, understand? We're not friends."
At the sound of her voice, his tail wagged harder and she let out a sigh. She didn't want him to become too attached, but she was happy to see he looked better than he had when she found him.
Satisfied he was still alive, Gabrie quickly filled a bowl of food for him. She took out the pills and considered them for a moment. How the hell did dogs take pills?
Not sure what else to do, she dropped one in the bowl and stirred it around until it disappeared into the slop of wet food. The dog must've smelled the food, because he padded into the kitchen and sat patiently next to the counter and stared up at her. A dignified string of drool dripped from his mouth.
Gabrie grunted. "You're gross." She placed the food at his feet. "Remember, Tank. You're Jack's dog."
CHAPTER FIVE
Jack lowered himself into the chair next to Philip. He needed to get back to Cross Falls and check on Gabrie and Tank, but he couldn't forget the reason he came back home in the first place. But there would be no father-son bonding today. Philip was deep in sleep, and Jack couldn't bring himself to wake him.
He'd said a gentle hello, but Philip needed his rest. It probably didn't help that Darren agitated him so much yesterday, but for once Jack was on Darren's side. If he wanted to pay to have Cross Falls redone, and have his girlfriend do the decorating, Jack wasn't going to complain. The place was falling apart with neglect. As though the house was dead to Philip the minute Jack's mom decided she'd rather swallow two dozen sleeping pills and half a bottle of whiskey.
Cross Falls Saga - Southern Suspense Box Set Page 8