by A. E. Murphy
“Wasn’t expecting you to turn up today after last night.” The man grins devilishly as he eyes Dillan up and down. “Feeling delicate?”
“Thankfully, no.”
“Delicate?” I ask, giving Dillan the side eye. “You got drunk last night?”
He looks almost ashamed. “I may or may not have been under the influence between the hours of ten and one.”
“Did you have fun?”
“It wasn’t bad actually.” He shrugs and shoves his smoky friend to the side. “I’ll see you inside.”
We step into a narrow, sterile white hall and pass numerous doors. It’s not until we near the end that I hear the sound of dogs yipping and barking in the distance. A lot of dogs.
“Where are we?” I ask and Dillan rings the bell on the door at the end of the hall.
“Bouncy Bones Dog Sanctuary,” he responds nervously. “I took a chance.”
“A chance?”
“I come here as often as I can to help out, play with the dogs and walk them. I thought maybe you’d like to join me.” He chuckles nervously and inhales a sharp breath through his teeth. “Now I’m wishing I’d asked because of allergies and maybe you don’t even like dogs.”
“This is literally the best thing ever!” I grin excitedly and the door opens. An older lady welcomes us but soon rushes ahead. Clearly, she knows Dillan is capable. She vanishes through a door on the right, where the sound of a howling dog can be heard.
“Those are the more aggressive dogs that have less than happy backgrounds,” he explains, his voice quiet. “I don’t go in there.” He turns to a large set of double doors on the left and pushes one open. The barking, yipping and howling gets louder and soon comes the sight of large kennels with metal mesh gates stopping the dogs from escaping. They each have comfy beds, food, water and space to roam, though not enough to be happy. I bet the staff get overwhelmed.
“This way.” He takes my hand and pulls me past the kennels and through another door into a small room that holds many harnesses, leads and other equipment. “I won’t groom them today, not when you look so pretty.” He holds a pen in his hand and grabs a large trailer full of food, a massive jug of fresh water and a few toys and treats.
I can’t get the vision of all of the doggies’ big round eyes staring at me, hoping I’ll be the one to take them home. This visit, as fun as it will be, is going to destroy me and everything I thought about the world.
We start with a group of smaller, fluffy white dogs that share a kennel. They were brought in together according to the notes pinned to the outside of the cage. I crouch down and let them sniff me before giving them love and attention as Dillan changes their bedding, cleans their messes and fills their food. He ticks it off on the notes and we move to the next cage.
I try to remain impartial but it’s so hard. I don’t even care when this huge bulldog starts slobbering all over my hands. I’m just trying not to cry.
“Do they get put down?”
He stops pouring the food and turns to look at me. His look says it all; he doesn’t even have to explain.
“That sucks.”
“They do their best, but they get so many dogs.”
“How long do they get?”
“A year.” He finishes up and leads me away from the bulldog, locking the cage and ticking the chart off. “If they don’t get adopted and we can’t move them to another rescue…”
“That’s just awful.”
“It’s very, very rare that we have to put a healthy dog down. As barbaric as it sounds, we have to do what’s best for all of them.”
I want to hug him. I can see how deeply this affects him but I daren’t risk the rejection. “Poor babies.”
“If only more people would come and volunteer.”
I nod and then scoff, “If only more people would stop being abusive to animals and stop breeding.”
“Exactly,” he agrees, leading us to the next cage where the tiny little chihuahua cross breed wags its little tail so hard its entire body sways with it. “This is Mr T. He’s not a huge fan of other dogs, tries to fight them all.”
“But he’s so little,” I laugh, trying to picture this tiny little dog taking on the bully in the cage next door. I pick his bony little frame up and giggle when he licks my neck. “I’ve never been much of an animal lover but I think I might have found a new passion.”
“That’s what we like to hear.” The guy that was smoking outside smiles through the cage, his fingers hooking around the mesh as he observes us. “You’re always welcome to come and join us.”
I nod, appreciative of his offer.
“I don’t think I introduced myself; I’m Rabi.”
“Tyler,” I reply and place the doggy back on the ground.
“I’ll finish up here; you go around the other side. Six and Nico prefer you anyway,” Rabi tells Dillan and pulls his own trailer behind him.
“Come on, let’s go meet my best boy.” Dillan grins and we move to the end of the cages, past more dogs than I can count, and onto another row.
“Your best boy?” I ask, but soon come face to face with a huge, fluffy, brown and black German Shepherd. The poor thing has a huge scar going across one eye and no ear on that side either. Other than that, though, he looks healthy enough and when he sees Dillan he starts whining and crying in a way I’ve never heard a dog do before. He dives at him, as though relieved that he’s here. I watch them bond, cuddle and play fight and decide to do the cleaning and food filling this time.
“This is,” Dillan laughs, pushing the dog’s muzzle away from his face, “Link.”
“Link?” I grin while pouring the water. “As in Zelda?”
“Yup,” he chuckles, sitting on the ground and letting Link calm himself. “I’d adopt him if my dad would let me.”
“Why won’t he?”
“My dad is like… well he has major OCD and bringing a dog into the house would set him off.”
“Oh.” I wince and tilt my head. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Me too.” He really does look sorry. “He’s such a good boy. He deserves a happy, loving home.”
“That he does.” I hold out my hand and Link comes over, his one ear back and his head low. “What happened to him?”
“He was bait in a dog fight when he was a pup.”
“Holy fuck,” I curse and lower to a crouch so the lovely, fluffy Link can explore the new person in his temporary home. “That’s terrible.”
“It happens more often than people think. He was probably the runt of the litter. You wouldn’t know it now.”
“Jesus… how old is he?”
“Eleven months,” he responds, his eyes still on the dog. “He was a few weeks old when he was brought in by a homeless guy who almost lost a hand trying to save him.”
“There are still good people in the world.”
“Yeah.” He smiles solemnly. “It’s just a shame the bad ones are more visible.”
Amen to that. “Are they going to put him down?”
He doesn’t respond. He does, however, stand and pull the trailer out of the cage. “I’ll be back to walk you soon, Link.”
I want to cry.
I want to adopt them all.
When we leave, Dillan takes me back to this Nan’s massive apartment, which isn’t as far away from mine as I thought. She lives in a nice area of London where all of the houses cost more than two million. It’s ridiculous. Her house is amazing. She lives on the first floor in an apartment that is spacious and full of light.
Fortunately for me, she isn’t home so I don’t have to meet two of Dillan’s family members in one day. Three if you count Link, which I certainly wish I could because this boy’s love for his dog goes beyond the realm of my understanding.
“You can go first,” he offers and leads me to the bathroom.
“Do I smell that bad?” I laugh, looking at my arms. They’re a bit on the grubby side after all of the playing, cleaning and walking.
&nb
sp; “Not at all. I just need to sit down for a minute.”
My mouth drops open with a gasp. “Have I outwalked you?” When he doesn’t respond, I cackle insanely. “Oh my god, I have! Best day ever.”
“I’m hungover.”
“I wish I looked that good hungover. I’d have not even made it out of bed.”
He grins smugly and I leave him to slump on the couch.
Using the fancy shower gel in a crystal jar with a little tap on the side, I wash my arms, neck and face, trying to keep my clothing as dry as possible. Not that it matters, my clothes are grubby too.
“I can’t go to the restaurant wearing this,” I say as I exit the bathroom, feeling a lot fresher than I did before I entered it. I also smell like roses. It’s a nice smell.
Unfortunately, my words fall on deaf ears as I find Dillan passed out on the small, white, U shaped sofa, his legs hanging over the side and his head only comes to the middle.
I snort and roll my eyes, letting him have his nap. If he’s passed out that quickly then he must be exhausted. Of course, I take pictures of him before I sit close to his head and play on my phone. I also post the picture of him on Facebook and hashtag it as ‘#lightweight’.
“Dillan?” I whisper and kneel in front of him. It’s been an hour since he fell asleep and I’m officially bored. “Dillan.” I poke his bristly cheek and take a moment to burn his handsome, sleeping face to memory.
“Huh?” He blinks his eyes open and looks at me, seemingly confused. “Tyler?”
“The one and only.”
As the realisation of who I am and why I’m here sinks in, his eyes get wider and wider. “How long have I been asleep?”
“Long enough for me to molest you.” I jest and wag my eyebrows playfully. He covers his eyes and nose with his arm, leaving only his perfect lips and teeth in view as he grins and then yawns. “An hour.”
“Crap, I’m sorry. I must have been more tired than I thought.” Uncovering his eyes, he sits up, swinging his legs off the arm of the sofa. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
He doesn’t look as though he believes me. “Honest.”
“You should have woken me up.”
“I wanted to find out if you snored or not.” Now he looks panicked. “Do I?”
“No, you literally don’t move or make a noise at all.”
He sighs with relief. “I’m going to clean up. I’m sorry for bailing on you like that.”
“It’s fine, Dillan. Go, get clean and then take me home so I can get changed.”
He looks at my outfit and purses his lips in thought. “I have a better idea.” And then he’s gone. Moments later, I hear the shower running.
I sit on the couch in the spot he just vacated because it’s warm and because this place is so white and fresh I daren’t move anywhere for fear of getting any of it dirty. With my hands clasped together tightly between my knees, I listen to the water, muffled by the walls, and try not to picture Dillan naked and wet. Which is highly impossible.
Unfortunately, due to my daydreaming about Dillan naked, I don’t hear the door open and close and I don’t hear anyone enter until his grandmother is standing in front of me holding a Taser. What is it with people and Tasers in London? Suddenly they’re everywhere!
“Don’t move,” she snaps, her narrowed, chocolate brown eyes glaring at me as her hands hold a tampon shaped Taser pointing directly at my legs. “Who are you and why are you in my home?”
“I’m Dillan’s friend,” I calmly explain, keeping my hands between my knees so she doesn’t feel threatened. “He’s just in the shower.”
Her face softens. “Oh.” The Taser is tucked into the expensive light pink suit jacket that she wears. “I apologise. He doesn’t normally visit on a Saturday.”
“Yeah, we got a bit mucky at the dog shelter.” She looks me up and down. “I can see.” Wow… she’s a bit snooty tooty.
“I’m not an animal lover but they make Dillan happy.” She blinks at me and slowly assesses me again. “You’re not his usual type.”
“I’m not his type at all.” I stand and lock my fingers in front of my groin because I don’t know what else to do with my hands. “We’re just friends. I’m Tyler.”
“Tyler is an unfortunate name for a girl.” She primps her white, perfectly volumized short hair in the mirror on the wall to her left. “I’m Patricia Weston.”
“Patricia.” I nod, impressed while trying to think of something equally as insulting but I draw a blank. “Thank you for having me.”
“Good manners,” she comments quietly. “Makes a change from that foul boy Leroy.”
“Amen to that,” I mutter and she smiles. Though it’s not warm, it’s still progress.
The door clicks open and Dillan steps out of the bathroom with a towel hanging low on his waist. His toned, tan and beautiful torso is covered in droplets of water.
“Gran.” He raises his eyebrows and looks between us both. “I hope you’re being kind.”
“Of course.” Patricia places a hand over her heart. “Aren’t I always?”
“No,” he laughs and comes towards her to kiss her cheek. “We’ll be out of your hair soon.” He winks at me which makes my inner woman swoon and flop onto her bed with a vibrator. I just can’t cope with his level of sexy right now. I’m foaming at the mouth I’m so rabid for him. “Please be nice.”
“The name Theresa would have suited you a lot better,” she states as soon as Dillan vanishes into a room across the way.
“My middle name is Tia.”
“I like it,” she announces and claps her hands together. “I will call you Tia.”
I can’t help but snort at the audacity of her. I like her confidence, even if she is brutal.
“So…” She motions for me to sit and makes herself comfortable on the white and gold armchair across from the sofa. “How do you both know each other?”
“We go to school together.”
She looks impressed. “Well, that explains the Versace jump suit you wear so well.” She crosses her legs at the ankles. “And what do your parents do?”
“Dad’s a dentist, a good one, and my mum is a writer, also a good one.”
“Impressive. Are they married?”
I nod. “Twenty-two years now, I think.”
“Siblings?”
“I have an older brother who is currently in university.”
“Studying?”
This is intense. “He’s studying to be a surgeon. He wants to be a plastic surgeon one day.”
“Hmm.” She smiles a slow smile. “And you?”
“I want to be a midwife.”
Her eyes warm. “My mother was a midwife. Did Dillan tell you to say that?”
I giggle and shake my head. “No, it’s what I’ve always wanted to do.”
“It’s a wonderful profession, though not a well-paying one for the amount of work you do. I suppose that won’t matter if you marry into a wealthy family such as your own.”
Holy crap she’s so old fashioned. “Right.”
“I should like to entertain your mother and father. It’s always good to socialise with the families of Dillan’s friends. I’ve made so many connections because of it.” She doesn’t give me a chance to reply. My palms are getting sweatier by the moment. “I’m surprised our social circles haven’t clashed sooner, though. Your surname doesn’t ring any bells. What are your parents’ names?”
“Tammy and Harry Shepherd.”
“Tammy Shepherd,” she says quietly and looks away whilst thinking. “Harry Shepherd…”
“They keep to themselves usually.”
“Nonsense. I’ll extend an invitation soon.” Oh good god.
“Gran,” Dillan sighs and moves to the space beside me. “Stop.”
“Too late.” She grins. “Why haven’t you introduced me to such a delightful young lady sooner?”
I notice how she says ‘a’ instead of ‘this’ meaning she hasn’t approv
ed of the many other females he has introduced her to before.
“We’re going,” he sighs and holds out a hand for me to take.
I slip my fingers into his palm and stand.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Weston.”
“Oh goodness, I go by Patricia.” This is surprising because it’s so informal and she’s exactly the opposite. By the way she cringed, I wonder if she has bad memories tied to her surname. I’m intrigued but not enough to ask. “I shall be glad to see you soon, Tia.”
“Gran, it’s Tyler,” he corrects.
“It isn’t.” Patricia smiles pleasantly, unaffected by his tone.
She sees us out and waves us down the hall.
It isn’t until I’m outside in the fresh air that I can finally breathe again. “Fuck me, that was scary.”
“Don’t swear,” he comments and pulls me to his car. “I’m sorry about her; she’s a bit of a bitch but we have to love her for it.”
“I understand. My grandpa is exactly the same way, except he’s not as… rude.”
He laughs and stops us on the path next to his car. “She liked you, which means she will call your family and invite them over for dinner.”
“It’s fine; they won’t mind. They’re used to it.”
“Good.” He bites on his lower lip. “I’m sorry I didn’t get you out of there before she came home.”
“You’re being silly. I’ll make it up to you by introducing you to my gramps.” Then I cringe and ask, “Is your mum like that? I don’t think I can handle two Patricias. I might have to call off our wedding.”
He laughs even louder than before and pulls the passenger door open. I love it when he does that. He’s such a gentleman. “God no. My mum is ace. She’s common as muck.”
“And your dad?”
“My dad is a complex character. He’s the nicest guy I know but he’s very… intense. You’ll probably think he hates you, but he doesn’t.” He smiles warmly and tucks his hands into his pockets. “The only people he truly shows affection to are me, my sisters and Mum. Everyone else is just… he just seems disinterested.”
“Oh.” I climb into the car and decide to change the subject. “What was this epic idea you had anyway?”