Last Chances

by Jeanne Bannon

  “Careful. Go slow,” Dr. Graham cautioned and quickly added, “I’m sure he’s fine though. The sedatives will have calmed him.”

  Hayden chimed in, “What if, well … what if when the pill wears off, he gets aggressive?”

  Dr. Graham pursed his lips and shook his head. “That’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, now isn’t it? We got to wait to see how Jasper adapts to his new life. It’s not that he won’t change or can’t change, it’s that most people aren’t brave enough to give a dog with a history of behavioral problems a second chance. To be honest, I have my reservations, but Pressley is a rare breed just like your Shaun was.” Dr. Graham gulped audibly making Pressley wonder if he was just as brave a soul as she was for broaching the subject of Shaun.

  “Before you go, hon, there’s some paperwork in the office you have to fill out. It won’t take long and then you and your new baby can go home and get acquainted,” Janet said. “Wanna go do that now? You can have the rest of the day off.” She smiled sweetly but Pressley had the impression her boss wanted her, and Jasper gone. Although she could tell Janet was happy for Jasper, she seemed nervous with the dog out of its cage.

  The paperwork turned out to be legal documents, but she’d been expecting that. They were designed to absolve the Westons and the Paws and Claws Animal Shelter from any liability if ‘said dog’ became aggressive toward not just Pressley but anyone else including other animals. By this point, Pressley just wanted to sign on the many dotted lines and get home. Jasper, for his part, lay lazily at her feet, his head resting on top of her feet.

  Once she was done, Janet and Dr. Graham waved from the door of the shelter while Hayden accompanied her to the car.

  “You’re not afraid of him right now, are you?” she asked.

  “He’s doped up. Bet he’s happy as a clam.” Hayden even dared to pet the dog. “You scared? I mean, this is a big deal. Did we get everything you need? We didn’t forget anything, did we?”

  “I’ve got two beds, toys, bowls, a crate, and a bag of food. What else could I possibly need?” Pressley couldn’t hide the wobble in her voice. She was a little scared, but more than that, she was nervous to be so close to Hayden.

  Pressley opened the hatch back of the car. “Life would be boring without a challenge, right?” She patted the inside of the car and Jasper jumped up — Hayden had to give him a boost to help him the rest of the way in, then he placed the dog’s meager belongings in the back beside him and closed the door slowly, so he wouldn’t be spooked.

  “Can I see your phone?” Hayden asked.

  Pressley took it out of her back pocket and handed it to him. It was an unusual request. She already had his number, but there was something about Hayden that made her trust him wholeheartedly. He was like a dog himself, but in the best ways — his big soulful eyes, the feeling that he was loyal to a fault. She watched as he scrolled through her contacts and then handed the phone back. “Just wanted to make sure my number is on speed dial. Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything, okay?”

  She wanted to point out that Jasper would probably attack him once the pills wore off if he came anywhere near, but held her tongue and was grateful for his offer of assistance. The muzzle might come in handy after all — at least for Hayden’s visits — if that ever happened. She prayed the dog would eventually get used to men, if just for that reason alone.

  Pressley got into the car and rolled down the window.

  “Take it easy with him,” he said, leaning in on his elbows.

  “I’ll be fine.” She smiled. She was excited to show Jasper his new home, but not happy to be leaving Hayden. “You want to come over later?” If he hadn’t been there, she would have hit her forehead with her palm. Why did she blurt things out? Was there no filter, no inner editor monitoring her thoughts so that they wouldn’t become words?

  Hayden glanced at Jasper sleeping in the back. “I think it’s best if I stay away for a few days. He needs to get used to you and your house. You know how Jasper feels about me. But feel free to call later to let me know how it’s going. And, call if … well, if things don’t go as planned, okay? I’m willing to risk life and limb to help out.” He smiled.

  He kissed her on the forehead, right where she wanted to pound sense into herself. That one small act was enough to allay her fears. Hayden wasn’t lost to her, but she’d have to rein in her insecurities or he might just run away.

  Eleven

  Hayden had only gone to the shelter to help Pressley with Jasper. It was his day off though he hadn’t told Pressley that. It would have made her feel guilty, he reasoned. He had wanted to go with her to help with the dog, but like he’d told her, it really was best for her and Jasper to get to know each other without him in the way. Once the pills wore off, Jasper might not be happy to have his company.

  He considered a hike, or even staying overnight at the campgrounds just outside of town, but worry nagged at him and he thought it best to stick around in case Pressley called. So, Hayden worked in his backyard, piling up freshly cut wood into a neat stack beside the small shed, then he raked up the dead grass and leaves. Finally, he cut the lawn even though it didn’t really need it.

  Bone-tired and sweaty, Hayden showered and changed into a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt. He lay down on the couch and flicked on the television. His townhouse, though modest, was rustic and quaint — just what Shaun loved. He was surrounded by her good taste and it was a comfort to him. She’d decorated their home meticulously, doing each room until she felt it was perfect. But, the lack of Shaun, her complete and total absence, baffled him. He spoke to her all the time, sometimes even getting down on his knees and asking God to send him a sign from her. Something to let him know she was still around.

  And at times, he got mad at God. Why did he take Shaun away so soon? They were to be married. He’d thought about the children they might have had. A daughter with Shaun’s blonde hair and big green eyes, and maybe a son with a splatter of freckles across his nose.

  Those thoughts of what might have been sometimes morphed into an aching need to switch them off. He thought of the beer in the fridge: something to take off the edge. TV was useless, filled with reality shows and dumb-ass sitcoms. After Shaun’s death, he drank a lot, and not just beer. He’d hung out at the Main Street pub, alone, preferring it that way. Shutting the door on his old life. His friends didn’t know what to say or how to help. Hell, nothing could help him, and everyone knew it, including his sister and parents. He had to hit rock bottom to find his way back to the world of the living.

  His mind turned to Pressley and surprisingly, his urge to drink evaporated. Why was he was so taken with her? She looked nothing like Shaun, but there was something that reminded him of her. Maybe it was her passion for animals? Or that she left a lucrative job to do something her heart desired and to make a difference in the world? That must be it — Shaun came from a wealthy family and could have lived a life of leisure, but she chose not to. She was not the “born on third base, thinking she’d hit a home run” kind of woman, and neither was Pressley.

  He smiled when he thought of the sweet, awkward girl Pressley turned into every time he saw her, and how she blurted out whatever she was thinking. She had no filter and he loved that. Yet, despite her non-existent internal editor, Pressley still managed to remain a puzzle — made up of one-part librarian and one-part nutty professor, but with a hearty sprinkling of sexy.

  Hayden plucked up his cell phone from the coffee table. Should he call to see how she was getting along with Jasper, or wait to see if she called him? He let out a huge sigh and threw caution to the wind.

  * * * * *

  Jasper woke from his nap a bit groggy, but eager to sniff out his new surroundings. Pressley sat beside him, leaning against the wall of the family room while he snoozed in his bed. She, too, had nodded off a few times only to jerk awake whenever the dog moved or made a noise in his sleep. She kept his collar and leash on him and tied the other end to a leg of
the couch. She’d also put out a sedative-filled treat on the kitchen counter along with the muzzle, just in case.

  Being completely alone with the dog was not really scary — she didn’t think he’d bite her; the dog had been nothing but affectionate with her — but it did feel strange, and she was the cautious type. Maybe it was because she hadn’t lived with anyone, not even a pet, for a very long time. She’d learned to be self-sufficient since her mother’s death.

  Her phone buzzed and although she was tempted to answer, she ignored it. Right now, she had bigger things to attend to. She watched as the dog slowly and carefully stepped out of his bed, nose to the floor taking in the new scents around him. After circling the room, he raised a leg and peed on the wall.

  “Jasper, no!” Her voice pitched higher than she’d intended.

  Pressley grabbed him by the collar, unclipped his leash and led him to the patio door. She breathed a sigh of relief when he trotted along willingly, even looking up at her, approval shining in his eyes. How could she stay mad at him? The thought that he wasn’t housebroken hadn’t even occurred to her until now.

  When she opened the door, the dog froze, and sniffed the fresh air. His hackles bristled. She slid open the screen and took a step backwards. Jasper walked out into the yard. His nose once again turned to the ground as he sniffed his way around shrubs, trees, and the open grassy area. Pressley’s yard was large enough for a dog like Jasper to run around in, and it was fully fenced.

  After peeing on everything he sniffed, he plopped to the ground and wriggled on his back in a patch of mud.

  “NO! Stop it!” Forgetting herself, Pressley made her way to the mud-covered dog and took him by the collar. This time he snapped at her — teeth just catching the thin flesh of her wrist, but not drawing blood.

  Pressley was more astonished than afraid and as soon as she realized the dog had bitten her, Jasper had fled. She watched amazed and shocked as the dog leapt over the back fence of her yard in a single bound.

  Twelve

  When she didn’t answer her phone, or reply to his texts, Hayden hightailed it to the shelter. Janet had already left for the day. Nevertheless, he’d gone to the shelter to try to find out where Pressley lived. He pulled open desk drawers, only to discover copious amounts of paper in Janet’s, and nothing except a green felt marker and paper clips in Pressley’s.

  Next, he riffled through the files in the cabinet in the corner of the office. Maybe the legal paperwork Pressley had filled out that morning for the Westons would be in there. Again, he found nothing.

  A strange noise at the front door caught his attention — it wasn’t a knock but a rattle as if someone was shaking the glass pane. He walked over to check it out. He could hardly believe it. Jasper was on the other side of the glass door, pawing to be let in.

  There were patches of mud on his back and around his face. Hayden opened the door slowly, so he wouldn’t scare him off, and moved out of his way as Jasper walked through the door. The dog shook with hearty abandon, speckling the walls and Hayden with dirt. Hayden rolled his eyes. “Did you have to do that?” Jasper growled and sidestepped away from him.

  Hayden peeked outside for Pressley. Could she be bringing him back? But she was nowhere to be seen, and the only vehicles in the parking lot were his and Jose’s: one of the volunteers. How on earth had the dog gotten so dirty? The poor thing looked as if he’d just pulled himself out of a pit of quicksand.

  Hayden closed the door and turned to find Jasper at the end of the hall, nose pressed against the door that led to the kennels. “You wanna go home? Poor guy, you’ve been here so long you figure you belong at the shelter, don’t you, boy?” He took Jasper by the collar and with the other hand, opened the door to lead him through. There was always the chance one of the animals was out of its cage for a little exercise and a change of scenery, and there would be no telling what Jasper would do if he spotted another animal.

  When the coast was clear, Hayden tugged on Jasper’s collar. With a snarl, the dog turned and sunk his teeth into Hayden’s forearm. “Shit!” he yelled, pulling away.

  Jasper’s growl sunk an octave as he moved toward Hayden, head low, eyes trained on him. Hayden was now pinned against the steel door with no chance of escape. He thought about jumping back through to the other side of the threshold and slamming the door on the dog, but there was no way he could be quick enough; Jasper was just too close.

  His mind switched gears quickly as panic-laced adrenaline urged him on. He tried another tack. “Okay, buddy. It’s okay. You wanna cookie?” His tone was high-pitched and friendly. The dog’s ears pricked up, and his head tilted at the mention of “cookie” but he didn’t look any friendlier. Hayden glanced at his arm. It felt as if it was on fire. Blood ran in rivulets and dripped off his fingertips, polka-dotting the floor. He was certain a trip to the hospital was in his future — that is if he had a future. Right now, he had to find a way to corral Jasper into a cage and quick, but the dog kept him pinned to the wall with just a sidelong stare.

  A sudden shuffle of footsteps filled Hayden with hope — someone was coming! He moved out from his spot behind the door and Jasper’s jaws clamped down again, this time taking hold of his calf. The animal shook with all its might, its powerful neck and head helping to tear through Hayden’s jeans and into the flesh beneath. He kicked at the dog with his good leg, but lost his balance and crashed to the floor. Jasper was on him now: the animal’s large blocky body pinned Hayden in place. A tidal wave of fear had the blood pulsing in Hayden’s ears. Then he felt the dog’s nose, cold and wet against his throat. He turned away as best he could and threw a hand up for cover. This was it, he thought. The dog was going to kill him.

  As if by magic, the animal was suddenly moved up and away from him and he heard Jasper’s whimpering cries echoing in the cement-walled building. Hayden looked up to see one of the volunteers on the other end of a restraining pole, the metal loop around the struggling dog’s neck.

  “Got ’im,” Jose said as he wrangled Jasper away. “Be right back, man. Hang on. You’re gonna be okay.”

  Thirteen

  The painkillers were just kicking in when Hayden’s cell phone rang. Jose had been kind enough to not only rescue him, but also drive him to the emergency room of Quick Rivers General where his arm was stitched up, and his leg bandaged. Now, he lay in his bed at home propped up against a few pillows. Jose had offered to stay to keep him company, but he thanked him profusely and told him he needed to be alone. The meds were fogging up his mind and he was too worried about Pressley and Jasper to be good company.

  He browsed Netflix on his laptop for something to take his mind off the pain and the fact he’d eventually have to deliver terrible news to deliver to Pressley, if only he could get a hold of her. Before he left, Jose suggested they call Janet to let her know what happened and for a moment, Hayden considered this — maybe he could get Pressley’s address from her. He wanted to make sure she was okay and prayed to God that the dog had just run away and not attacked her. He’d also considered calling the police, not because the dog attacked him, but to have them check up on Pressley. But his instincts told him not to tell Janet or call the cops — at least not yet. That would ring the alarm and put Jasper back on the path to certain death. Jasper was safely in his cage at the Paws and Claws shelter, at least for the time being.

  Despite the wave of relaxation that began to flow through him courtesy of the painkillers, his heart leapt when he saw Pressley’s name light up his phone.

  “Hello?” he said quickly.

  “Jasper’s gone! I’ve looked all over and can’t find him. I’ve been walking the streets, looking for him for hours. Should I call the police, or put up posters, or—”

  “He’s safe. He came back to the shelter and he’s in his cage. Pretty smart, I guess. It’s the only real home he’s known.”

  He heard a whoosh of relief from the other end of the phone and Hayden wished he could share in that feeling. He rubbed tired
eyes with his good hand and said, “Pressley, there’s something I have to tell you.” Without waiting for a response, he continued before his courage deserted him. “First, I need to know you’re okay. The dog didn’t bite you, did he?”

  She hesitated, then said, “No, I’m fine.”

  At least he could be grateful for that. He soldiered on, “Jasper attacked me today at the shelter. I saw him at the door and let him in, then he turned on me. I’ve got ten stitches in my forearm and a couple of puncture wounds on my leg. Thank God Jose was there to help me. He got Jasper off me before he could do any more damage.”

  Silence. A seemingly never-ending silence, and then: “I’m so sorry,” followed by sniffles and sobs. “Can I come over?”

  Hayden was exhausted, but he’d never tell Pressley not to come over. He gave her his address and waited, trying not to nod off.

  * * * * *

  A knock at the door startled Hayden awake. He’d fallen asleep after all and it took a moment before he remembered what had happened and that it must be Pressley at the door. He made his way from the bedroom to let her in, giving his head a good shake to clear the cobwebs before swinging the door open.

  Her eyes widened, and her hand flew to her mouth when she saw the bandages. “Oh my God,” she whispered.

  “It’s not as bad as it looks.” He smiled. “I’ve been through worse. Come on in.” He tried to take her jacket to hang it in the closet, but she insisted on doing it herself.