by Clare James
“So, who’s this Sullivan guy?” I asked.
“Local businessman, trying to revitalize the neighborhood,” Jones told me, not bothering to look up from his own paperwork. “He’s done a lot for us, helping to clean up the rough spots in the area.”
“So he’s a good guy?”
“He’s alright. I wouldn’t say he does what he does out of the goodness of his heart. He usually has an agenda, but don’t we all?”
“Right,” I agreed, I could attest to that personally. “So we’re keeping watch on the shelter, based on his claims?”
“He hasn’t led us wrong so far. And let me tell you, we’ve never gotten so many calls after that place went viral for abusing the animals. People, nobody cares about. But fuck with the animals and the entire town will shut down.” Jones pinched the bridge of his nose.
“So we run down the compliances and make sure Top Dog is following the rules?” I clarified.
“You got it.”
And just like that, my excitement flatlined.
“It’s not all drug busts and murders, you know,” Jones said turning to me, exasperated.
Though that would’ve been nice if it was true, it wasn’t the particular assignment that shot down my enthusiasm. It was the fact that this was Jenna’s animal shelter that we might be shutting down.
Looked like I’d be seeing a lot more of her, whether she knew it or not.
6
Jenna
I did my best to ignore Michael, because screw him. He could talk to me and flirt or whatever, until Tabby was around and then avoid me like I was infested with fleas?
He was embarrassed by me?
Fine, two could play at that game. But it was easier said than done—especially when I caught him in his uniform, because damn, he made those standard-issue shirt and pants look incredible. And I’m not a badge bunny or anything, but cops are hot—even cop interns.
So yeah, I still wasn’t sleeping well. The way he looked at me the day in the courtyard invaded my brain whenever I let it. The sensation of electricity when our fingers touched was burned into my memory.
It can never happen.
I would not waste my time, or be treated like crap, just because his sister had issues with me. I took my frustration to the streets, reveling in the fact that I could run outside again. I’d picked up running after an altercation with a sorority girl on campus a few years ago. My don’t give a fuck attitude after Ben died got me into a lot of trouble that I was still making up for today.
With Sorority Girl Samantha, it was guy-related. A common theme in my life. After she heard a rumor that I was with her boyfriend, she cornered me on campus with some of her sorority sisters and made several threats. Thankfully, I had my own clique of bad girls to watch my back, but it still didn’t take away the fear that came along with the altercation. Or the uneasiness every time I ran into any of them on campus.
Now the truth was, I did sleep with her boyfriend, but he gave me the impression he was single, available, and into just one night of fun. What a douchestick.
Soon, I started seeing Samantha everywhere, so I traveled with a buddy whenever I could. But the real problem was that I had to walk by her sorority house to get to the parking lot where I stored my car. So I avoided driving, opting to run instead. It was like killing two birds with one stone because I didn’t want to take Samantha’s abuse, and after Ben’s car accident, I hated driving anyway. It wasn’t uncommon for me to have a panic attack anytime my speed reached over thirty miles an hour. So instead, I’d slip on a baseball hat and glasses and jog to the store to get food, to the shelter to work, or anyplace I used to take my car. It was a pretty wimpy way to deal with conflict, but I loved the anonymity of my new look and the freedom it provided.
Once my little army of bad girls had surpassed Samantha’s sisterhood, she’d stopped bothering me. But by then, I craved the release that running gave me and was already addicted.
Unfortunately, ever since Michael moved in, my go-to exercise wasn’t as effective in releasing stress and I remained on edge, precisely why my temper flared when I heard someone at my door.
“Go away,” I yelled, annoyed at the racket. There was a low, male voice echoing in the hallway, along with the incessant pounding on the door. Whoever was on the other side of this wall better be wearing a cup because he was going to pay for putting the dogs in a tizzy. They were running around, barking, jumping on the furniture. It was a madhouse.
God, what my life had become. If my mother could only see me now, she’d have a heart attack. Even with two kids, the words ‘wild’, ‘messy’, and ‘out of control’ would have never been used to describe our home.
The truth was, Mom didn't really like parenthood. Oh, she liked the idea of us for sure, but the reality of two kids by the time you’re twenty-four wasn’t all that exciting. She was never all that interested in our lives, even when Ben was still here. Everything we were, everything we did, was simply a reflection back on her. So anytime we made any sort of mistake, she’d taken it personally.
She never understood that we were separate from her, with our own lives to lead, our own goals and dreams. It hurt me for a long time, and I guess the way I dealt with it was looking for love in other places. But the sad reality is you don’t get that unconditional love in other places. It comes from your parents and that’s about it. That was my experience, anyway. So when I couldn’t get that love from my first boyfriend Noah, I tried with his best friend. When I couldn’t get it from my best friend Jules, I tried with her boyfriend. You see where this is going, don’t you? This is why Samantha’s judgements about me weren’t far off. It’s also why I deserved everything I got. It should’ve been me who died in the accident, not my little brother.
I guess some of my behavior could be blamed on that. Grief will make people do things that are batshit crazy. Double it, if that grief is wrapped up in guilt. But going back to when I was child, I had always been broken in some way. I’d always been missing or lacking. You can tell someone that you have to love yourself first before you can love anyone else. You have to find yourself worthy. You can’t rely on others to do it for you. But if you’re the one lacking, if you’re the one broken, that doesn’t quite compute. It took me a long time to realize that. I never wanted to be like my mom, trapped into a life that I didn’t want, and taking other innocents along with me. It all became really clear after Ben died, and after I broke up with Noah, and ruined the only real friendships I ever had.
But for so long it felt better to lash out. It felt better to be the one hurting other people so they couldn’t hurt me first. It’s like when you hear about people who were abused as kids and they end up abusing their own children. It’s a cycle. And though it doesn’t make sense cognitively, it does when you’re in the moment.
And then I found Gloria. It was self-serving at first for sure. I needed an independent study after I broke up with Noah. And it’d been too hard to face him and Tabby on my previous assignment on the university newspaper. I needed something of my own.
Gloria and I hit it off the very first day, probably because she didn't take any of my crap. She took one look at my designer outfits and shoes and laughed in my face. But she didn't say anything, she let me figure it out on my own. I destroyed an $800 outfit my first day. But I learned a lesson quick. And I liked working there, I liked Gloria’s no-nonsense way of looking at life. I liked that this rough place in this broken-down building had become my escape, packed with so much love inside. And that wasn’t even considering the animals. Watching Gloria work at something she loved was inspiring. Soon I realized it didn’t matter what I was wearing or how I did my hair or my makeup. Heck, I could even come to work without brushing my teeth and the animals wouldn’t care.
They started to give me a sense of purpose. They were so innocent and they needed someone to take care of them. That was all they needed—just the basics for survival.
I decided then and there that this is what I want
ed to do with my life. This is what made sense. Of course, my advisor at the university thought that maybe veterinarian medicine would be best, but there was no way I could take that kind of pressure. I knew that about myself. I couldn’t hold the life of another living creature in my hands. What if I couldn’t save them?
When the knock on my door reverberated through the apartment again, I suddenly realized who it must be.
Someone who was on a mission of his own.
7
Michael
I’d never been more thankful for my own place than I was in the moment. It’d been a long day, a long week, and a little more drama-filled than I was used to. All I wanted was my couch, a cold beer, and ESPN.
I was too lazy to make dinner, so I grabbed a box of dry cereal as I headed over to my recliner. I kept the volume on low, relishing in the quiet. Living with Tabby was nothing but people and talking and noise, noise, noise. This? This was bliss.
Until there was a banging sound outside my door.
Typically, this is when irritation would settle in, but instead, I was on alert. Another bang and then what sounded like a struggle outside my door. I immediately went into cop mode—sans the gun. I didn’t have my license yet and really didn’t believe in civilians having firearms in their homes, so I was waiting until I was officially on the force.
Stupid mistake.
My ears peaked like a German Shepard, and every muscle in my body coiled. I grabbed my baseball bat and looked out the peephole of my apartment door.
Nobody was in the hallway.
Another scuffle ensued.
It was definitely coming from Jenna’s apartment. Enemy or not, I wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Not on my watch.
I’d noticed a guy going inside her place when I came home earlier. Shit, what did he look like? Medium build, in my age range (early twenties) blonde hair…that’s all I had. I was trying not to notice, because I wasn’t happy with the way it made me feel that there was another man in Jenna’s apartment. I wasn’t happy with a lot of things that involved Jenna these days.
In one stride, I was on the other side of the hall, next to her door, listening. My arm that was holding the bat twitched. I was ready to strike if I needed to.
This time, after the rumbling stopped, Jenna’s light laughter filled the hallway.
I tried to make sense of what was happening.
She was talking now, her voice low, sexy.
Holy shit. The guy from earlier must’ve been her date…or booty call…or whatever it was Jenna Peterson did with her willing victims. How I wanted to know what that was.
Unfortunately, she opened the door before I had the chance to make it back to my single-guy sanctuary.
So I did the only thing I could think of.
8
Jenna
His name was Christian Cassidy. It was the name of a country singer, or maybe porn star, or would-be dog owner. We’d met at the shelter a week ago and he was interested in Ruby.
Despite his loud entrance, he seemed nice enough and had all the right credentials and the perfect place for a dog, which was more than I could say for my apartment. Yet Ruby didn’t really take to him. She was completely standoffish during the entire visit. Oscar and Molly weren’t much better.
Of course, they weren’t used to visitors, which was most likely the cause for their odd behavior. But I had this niggling feeling that maybe there was another reason.
I was probably being stupid. “We’ll try again,” I told Christian on his way out. “She might just be tired today.”
“Well, I’m willing to do whatever it takes,” he said. A perfect answer once again. He looked so hopeful, and I wasn’t ready to give up on the possibility for Ruby’s sake. Yes, I was being silly thinking that something might be off with Christian. Who was I to judge? I had no idea what constituted as normal, anyway.
And speaking of strange behavior…
When I opened the door to send Christian on his way, Michael was in the hallway, with a bat, taking some kind of imaginary batting practice. What on earth?
We exchanged a quick glance, and his face wore an expression I’d never seen before and I’m not sure I cared for it one bit. It either looked like he wanted to kill me, or bed me. Like I said, I had no idea what constituted as normal. I didn’t say anything though until Christian was out the door and out of earshot.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked him.
“Like what?” questioned, holding the bat over his head to stretch his arms. “I’m not looking at you in any particular way, Jenna.”
“More importantly, what the heck are you doing out here?”
“Stretching,” he replied, as if it was completely normal to be in the hallway, stretching out with a baseball bat. He was hiding something.
“Mmmhmm. Are you going to tell me the real reason?” I rubbed my temples; this day was giving me a headache. Either that, or I was hungry. I’d been so busy, I’d hardly eaten all week. So tonight, I was making an Italian feast.
Michael didn’t answer my question, so we commenced a staring stand-off in the hallway.
“I heard a struggle in your apartment,” Michael finally conceded.
Well, that was something I didn’t expect. “And you came out to check on me?”
He nodded.
“Seriously? You were going to save me if I was in trouble?” My heart squeezed a little.
“If I had to, but then I realized you just had a date.” He was sheepish with his reply, confusing the crap out of me. He’d been scarce the last week and I thought we were done being—well, whatever we were being. Not exactly friends, but not enemies either. I was under the impression that Tabby must’ve laid down the law.
“A date?” I couldn’t help but laugh, imagining what that date with Christian would’ve looked like with the dogs running around like lunatics. Geez, did Michael think all that racket was part of my date?
“Yes, you know, a date,” he said, his jaw clenched. “Maybe with the guy who just came out of your apartment with a smile on his face?”
“So you thought that noise was us?” My voice was harsher that I intended it to be, but what kind of crap was this? I placed my mask firmly in place—this is why I always carried it with me.
I never knew who would disappoint.
I’m sure that Tabby, and God knows who else, had told him all about my alleged slutiness to warn him off, so I guess it made sense that he thought Christian and I were having kinky monkey sex. Why was I surprised? And more concerning, why did that bother me so much? “I know I have a reputation, but God, Michael.” I blinked away the tears that pricked my eyes.
“I didn’t mean—” he began before I cut him off.
“Hey, if you’re going to get all weird about it,” I added, taking a step closer and bringing the ball over to my court, “I’ll be sure you’re the first to know before I’m about to get freaky, so you don’t accidently bash in someone’s head over it.”
His face flushed and he raked his hands through his hair, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. At. All. I freaked out a little when I heard all the noise. I was really worried about you.”
It unnerved me the way he could peel back my armor so easily. He shared his thoughts—what seemed to be his very real thoughts—without a care. But still, he was so hot and cold that I never knew what I was going to get.
“So if it wasn’t a date, who was the guy?” he pressed.
“He’s thinking about adopting Ruby,” I said, trying this conversation his way.
His brows knitted together in question at the mention of Ruby. Oh, right, they hadn’t been formally introduced. “One of the lab pups,” I offered.
“I thought she was yours.”
“Nope. Just Oscar. I’m fostering the other two until I find homes for them. I don’t think our landlord would appreciate three dogs in the building.”
“I didn’t think he’d allow one.” He smirked and I could tell Michael was
the sort of guy to have read the entire policies and procedures of the building. A rule follower, this one. I supposed that’s why he was drawn to the police force.
“Oh, Oscar’s a therapy dog,” I lied. I wasn’t ready to trust him with that important piece of info. I could handle pretty much anything, except losing Oscar.
“Really?” Michael drew out the word.
Busted.
“You’re something else, Jenna,” he said, but I could tell there was no hidden meaning to his words. I also knew he wouldn’t turn us in.
But then concern washed over his face. “Do you do that often?”
“What?”
“Give your address out at the shelter?” he asked with authority. Oh yeah, he was going to make a good cop. A hot cop. I tried not to picture him in the full police ensemble with the gun belt and handcuffs…
Crap, too late.
“This was a special situation,” I assured him, fanning my face with my hand. Was it warm in here?
“It’s not safe, you know that, right?”
“That’s what I thought at first,” I agreed. “But you know, people can surprise you. I’m trying to have faith in that for a change.”
I didn’t mean to say that last bit aloud. Thankfully, I didn’t have to expound on it, because I was saved by the bell. In this case, a beeping oven. “Okay, if there’s nothing else then, I’m going to grab my lasagna out of the oven.”
As if on command, Michael’s stomach growled, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to turn him away.
Michael
The casual way Jenna knocked herself down had my stomach in knots. Somehow I had the feeling there was more to her so-called reputation—meaning maybe there wasn’t one. Hell, even if there was some truth to it, who cares? She had as much right as the next person to—how did she put it?— get freaky whenever the hell she wanted.