by Jade West
“I’ll hand her into the local rehoming centre. She’ll be well looked after.”
“Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“I’m just doing my job, Mrs Scott.” If looks could kill I’d be a dead woman. I held my stance, folding my arms tight across my chest, and still she didn’t respond. I took a risk, all out of options, and reached inside my bag for my phone. “I’ll make the call.”
“Fucking hell!” she seethed. “You people make me sick. Take the fucking dog. It’s a stupid, messy piece of shit anyway.” She stormed off down the hall, and my heart lurched as Casey cowered from her, flattening herself against the wall. Janine grabbed her by the scruff, yanking her forward hard enough that the dog yelped. It was only when she shoved her towards me that I saw the full extent of the neglect. The animal was skin and bone, fur matted and filthy, and almost bare to the skin in places.
“Does she have a lead? A collar?”
Janine Scott rolled her eyes, like I’d asked her for a magic beanstalk. “Jesus Christ, you’ll want the shirt from my fucking back next.”
Casey looked terrified, eyes darting around the hallway. I placed my hand on her neck to stop her running, and she froze. “It’s ok,” I whispered, as though she would understand me. “I’m getting you out.”
Janine returned with a manky old collar and a bit of twine. “Best I can do.”
I slipped it over Casey’s neck, praying to God she didn’t decide to make a run for it, the twine would cut my hand to shit. Maybe that’s what Janine wanted. “This will draw a line under the incident, I hope I don’t have reason to call again.” I turned away, pulling gently on the makeshift lead. “Come on, Casey, there’s a good girl.”
The dog responded in a flash, jerking into life and setting off down the corridor. I wrapped the twine tight around my palm, trying my best to keep her close. I waited for the lift to open, heart racing, and had only just stepped inside when I heard Janine’s angry voice calling after me.
“How the fuck do you know the name Casey? Her name’s Peaches!”
I jabbed for the ground floor like my life depended on it.
***
Casey moved like a wild thing when we got outside, lurching all over the place. Even with the twine biting my fingers I kept hold, leading her best I could back to the garages. The enormity of what I’d just done came crashing down. I’d broken every guideline. Fabricated complaints that didn’t exist to make threats I couldn’t enforce. I’d stolen a dog from a tenant, used my position as blackmail. Jesus. I was in deep.
“Casey!”
Callum Jackson’s voice thundered loud on sight of us. I don’t know who ran faster, him or the dog, but I was dragged without choice, in danger of toppling straight onto the tarmac. I let go just in time to avoid a collision, breaking to a halt as she flew into Callum’s open arms. He dropped to the floor, slamming his knees onto the ground without the slightest care as the dog jumped all over him. Her tail was wagging so hard it shook her whole body, and she whined with such happiness I felt a lump in my throat, of the kind I’d only really experienced when watching soppy videos on Facebook. But this wasn’t social media, this was a ringside seat, and it felt all the better for it. I stood and watched in silence, unashamedly voyeuristic as they lolled around in play. Maybe, just maybe, the savage had some humanity in him, after all. This was worth breaking the rules for, sure to God it must be.
When Callum Jackson finally looked up at me, the wariness in his eyes caught me totally off guard. “What happened?”
“Does it matter? They gave her to me, end of story.”
“They just handed her over? Doesn’t sound pissing likely.”
My mood was suddenly crushed like a beetle under a boot, ungrateful piece of crap.
“A thank you would be appreciated...”
“I can’t pay you anything...” he grunted.
My heart shrivelled. I’d felt a part of it—their beautiful reunion—as though in some weird way I was included in their happiness. But no. Of course not. I was nothing—just a nosey-parker estate manager, an intruder. It smarted hard, embarrassment burning.
“I didn’t do it for money,” I snapped. “I did it for the dog.”
“She’s grateful.”
“And you?”
He removed Casey’s crappy collar and cast it aside. “And me, yeah.”
I took in Callum Jackson through fresh eyes. A twenty year old thug, dishevelled and wild. Torn jeans, tight to his skin, his baggy hoodie covered in dirt and blood and all kinds of shit most likely. His jaw was swelling, dark eyes sunken into his skull, but despite all that he was still absolutely fucking gorgeous. A gorgeous monster. A savage. An ungrateful, vicious, dangerous savage.
I adjusted my jacket, smoothed down my skirt. “What are your plans now?”
He shrugged. “Carry on like before. What’s it to you?”
“How are you going to take care of her?”
He frowned. “Same as always. We stick together, me and her.”
I folded my arms. “If you care about the dog, you’ll let me take her for rehoming.”
“I’m her home,” he spat. “Ain’t no one gonna be taking her anywhere.”
“How are you going to feed her?”
“We’ll get by.”
“So, you expect me to rescue her from one bad home, and deliver her straight into another?”
“I don’t expect shit.”
“I think I should take her,” I said, irritation making me brave.
He got to his feet, stepping forward with menace. “You can fucking try.”
“You wanted the dog to be safe. I rescued her from the Scotts, and now she needs a proper home...”
“She’s got a home, with me.”
My senses reeled, neck bristling in fear, but still I couldn’t shut it. “What about vet bills? Vaccinations?”
“I’ll fucking manage.”
“And I’m supposed to take your word for it, am I?”
He took another step forward, and I fought the urge to back away. “I’m good for my word.”
“I should call it in, for the dog’s sake.”
His eyes were fierce. “Don’t push it, estate manager. You don’t know me.”
Stand-off. I held firm until my adrenaline ebbed, fading away into nothing but jitters. “I just risked my job for that dog, and for what? So you can drag her back to life on the streets without even a thank you?”
“What you after? A fucking medal?” He stared at me, shifting from one foot to the other. My cheeks burned under his scrutiny. “What do you mean you risked your job?”
“I didn’t follow procedure.”
He dropped his eyes to the floor. “Don’t normally have much to say thanks for. Not used to it.”
“Is that your way of apologising?”
He shrugged. “Not much good with sorry.”
“Nor with a decent thank you, seemingly.”
He looked beyond me, to the buildings in the distance. “If you call the pigs I’ll run, they’ll never find us.”
“So, why aren’t you running?”
“Dunno,” he said. “Maybe I don’t think you’ll call the pigs.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“You know she’s better off with me. Else you wouldn’t have rescued her.”
“I did it for the dog,” I maintained. “Nothing to do with you.”
Liar. What the hell was I doing?
“Casey wants to be with me.”
“She’s a dog, she doesn’t know what’s best for her.”
“She knows what love is. She knows better than most people.”
My phone started buzzing. Office calling. Real life fucking calling. “Shit,” I said. “I’ve got to take this.”
He paced forward, and this time I did retreat, stepping backwards until I was cornered. He loomed over me, just like earlier, but this time he was so close I could feel the heat. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will. Don’t think I won’t.
”
I breathed in his breath, skin on fire. Dangerous. I was alone, out of my depth, threatened by someone with no limits, no restraint, no fucking safe word. His eyes weren’t playing, no humanity staring back at me, not this time. I shifted against him, fighting the familiar thrill of being pinned.
“Go,” I said. “I’m done here.”
He released me in a flash, grabbing his holdall and walking away without a backwards glance. Casey followed, bounding along at his side like a different animal. Maybe he was right, maybe she did belong with him.
My phone was still ringing. I stared at the office number but it seemed so far away. Far away in a world of conformity and procedures and health and safety. I wasn’t ready to go back there, not yet.
“Wait!” I called.
He didn’t respond, didn’t even slow down. I had to run after him, grabbing at his elbow without thinking. The savage spun on his heels, wild, ready to attack until he registered it was me. His fist paused mid-air. I put an arm up to block him.
“Thought you were Jones,” he muttered. “What now?”
I don’t fucking know. “The dog... I’ll want to check up on her.”
“Check up on her?” he growled. “What does that mean?”
“Just to know she’s ok,” I said. “I’ll need your phone number.”
“Ain’t got one.”
“Do I look that fucking stupid?”
“The number’s 0791-mind-your-own-fucking-business,” he sneered.
“I got your dog back, and I’ll let you leave with her, but you will be giving me your number, or so help me God you’ll have to knock me out just to shut me up.”
He frowned for long seconds, then finally dug around in his bag. The handset was an old model, built like a brick. He scrolled through the numbers until he found his own, shoving it in my hand. I wrote it down on my clipboard, checking it once, twice, three times before I handed it back to him.
“Take care of her.”
“Always.” He pulled up his hood until his face was in shadow, and then continued away.
I watched him long enough to catch him turn back, just in earshot.
His words were simple, but they were sincere.
“I owe you, estate manager. I won’t forget this.”
Neither would I.
Chapter Three
Callum
Casey was nothing but bones, just like when I found her. I fought the red mist, ready to charge up to those cunting Scotts and make them pay, only I couldn’t risk it. Not now.
Case stuck at my side, just like old times, ears pricked up as we headed for our dinner. The bin round the side of Al’s fish and chip shop was usually packing with leftovers. I dug out some trays. Lucky haul—half a battered fish, and a couple of bits of sausage. I gave it all to Casey, every single bit. I’d feed her up again proper, just as soon as I sorted some cash. I’d have to hook up with some old acquaintances, let them know I was back in business.
My business was packages, but only the small stuff, taking them from A to B and asking no questions. They’d chuck me a bit of cash, a twenty here and there. The big money was in the harder stuff, but that wasn’t my bag, not anymore. Too much jail time. She’d be dead by the time I made it out.
There ain’t no real jobs for a guy like me, not even round the dregs in these parts. I’m too well known. Known by face and known by fists. It used to bother me, used to eat me up that nobody had a chance to give me. Got used to it, though. Life ain’t never been kind, being older don’t make no fucking difference.
“Alright, Case, easy girl.” I sank against the wall, pulling her close. Nothing left of the haul but chip papers, and I didn’t want her chewing on that. I got out my baccy, made a roll-up. Only a skinny one, had to make it last. My jaw pounded like a bastard. Tyler had got me a good one, asshole. His luck would run out one of these days.
Two of the little slags that live by Mam cruised on by, stopping to give me the eye. They laughed, all giggly and stupid, then huddled whispering. I used to be tempted, before I knew better. Dipped my wick in any tight little snatch that offered. I used to think it meant something, meant something about me, but all it ever meant was they’d fucked the bad boy, like a prize fucking medal.
They think it’s a hard act, like I threw my manners out with the trash to be a cool guy. They’re wrong. I never learned any to begin with, never learned how to be anything else. Maybe that’s why nobody has a chance to throw my way.
I’m a loser. Born a loser, raised a loser, and I’ll probably die a loser.
I just hope Casey goes before I do, so she’s not alone.
My phone bleeped with a text. For a second I thought maybe it was her, Sophie Harding. Of course it wasn’t.
“Nice lady saved you, Casey, didn’t she? She weren’t so bad for one of them.”
Casey licked my face, giving me salty kisses. My perfect girl, my loyal girl. My only girl.
Well, maybe not quite my only girl.
“You wanna go and see Vick, Case? Shall we go and see Vicki?” She jumped up at the name, pawing me to stand. Clever dog.
I got to my feet, stomach still rumbling, but it didn’t matter.
Casey was all that mattered.
***
The months hadn’t been kind to Vicki. Her red hair was flat with grease, blonde roots showing. She’d come out in blotches her make-up couldn’t hide, and she’d lost weight. She was nearly as scrawny as Case.
“You eaten?” she asked. “I could stick you a bit of pasta on. I got a few bits left.”
“I ate already,” I lied.
“It’s good to see you, Cal.” She pulled me into a hug, crushing me with bony arms. “What happened to your face?! That from the Scotts?”
I ignored her questions. “How’s Slater?”
“So so,” she shrugged. “He’s with me mam. You’ll see him in the morning, if you’re still here. He grows so bloody quick.”
“Two now?”
“Last month. Had a little party for him. Shame you weren’t around. He loves you, Cal.”
I smiled. “Love him too, little tyke.”
“Haven’t got a roll-up, have you? I’m gagging.”
I sat myself down on the step and she perched alongside me. I’d been here so many times, hanging in her poxy little back yard, amongst Slater’s scooters and charity shop cars. Case and me would bed down in her tiny little shed sometimes, when it got real cold. I handed her the roll-up.
Casey nudged her hand, looking for fuss. “How’d you get her back, then? Did you have to kick the door in?”
I shook my head. “Didn’t go up there.”
“How come?”
“Had some help.”
She frowned. “Not from the Gabb boys? They’ll want repaying big time.”
“No. A woman, estate manager. Pretty, like.”
“The blonde one?” she quizzed. “Posh old cow, with a bob haircut? She ain’t pretty, Cal!”
“She sure ain’t old.”
“She is!” Vicki smirked. “Way older than us.”
Vicki was older than me, almost twenty-five, but she didn’t like to believe it. “She ain’t even thirty, Vick.”
“Almost thirty from the looks of her. Practically middle-aged. She acts like it, too, stuck up bitch.”
“Got me my Casey back.”
“What she do that for, then? Fancy you or summat?”
I shook my head. “For the dog. Animal rights and that.”
Vicki was thinking it over, I could tell. She gave me a funny look. I can never read her funny looks. “Don’t seem right to me, Cal, she must want something.”
“I scared her.”
“Scared her?”
“Pushed her into the wall, got all fiery. Couldn’t help myself.”
“Shit, Cal, she’s gonna have the pigs right down your neck if you don’t watch it.”
“Don’t think so. Took my number, said she’ll be checking on Case.”
“She does fanc
y you, then,” she laughed. It was a funny laugh, though, one of those ones I don’t like so much. “Don’t you be shacking up with no posh bird. I need you here.” Her eyes were nervous, shifty. My stomach churned and this time it wasn’t from hunger. “I’m in some trouble...”
Wasn’t she fucking always.
***
“Why don’t you come inside? Stay tonight. We can talk in there.” Vicki was edgy. Whatever trouble she was in had got her good.
I looked away. “Can’t leave Case.”
“She could stay in the kitchen? Just for tonight. I could clean up before Slater gets home.”
I shook my head. “No, Vick. Ain’t worth it.”
Slater’s allergic to Casey, has been since he was born. The kid don’t have much luck, truth be told. He’s allergic to everything, even milk, poor little bugger. Vicki blames herself, but it weren’t her fault. Unhealthy pregnancy, she said, but she was shacked up with Tyler Jones back then, and life was even tougher. It’s a wonder the kid was born at all, given the shit that bastard put her through. Ended our friendship dead in its tracks when I found out. He used to be a mate, grew up with him. Kicking about the block, up to no good. But no mate of mine punches his pregnant girlfriend in the stomach. Even I draw the line at that.
Vicki laid her head on my shoulder. “Sorry I couldn’t keep her, Cal.”
“Not your fault. Mam should’ve looked after her. Only thing I ever asked her for.”
“Tyler probably twisted her arm. Anything to get back at you.”
I changed the subject. “You still got my stuff?”
She nodded. “Everything you left.”
“My paints?”
She smiled. “All still there. Some of them may have dried up, though, haven’t checked.”
I took a deep breath. It felt like the first in years. “Spit it out, Vick.”
She pulled her jumper down over her knees, hugged her legs to her. She looked even more scrawny, like she’d blow away with the trash. “I got short of money. Owed Ben Brown a load from when Slater was ill last winter, and he wouldn’t let it go. Didn’t have any electric. Water was on my case. Didn’t even have any clothes that fit Slay anymore.”