by Ember Leigh
He’d never had a pet growing up, so this would be a whole new world for him. He chose an adoption shelter—something about orphaned animals spoke to him, and he figured Gen would feel the same. He walked rows of cages full of dogs with droopy faces, pointed snouts, tawny fur, different colored eyes. They had a few puppies, but Cobra knew the one he wanted the second he spotted it.
Jack Russell terrier, they told him. Named Stella. Potty trained, timid, discovered on the side of a road with some signs of neglect. When the shelter employee handed Stella over to Cobra, she fit into his hands easily, and her warm body sent a wave of recognition through him.
“Hi, Stella,” he said, bringing his face close to hers. She licked his nose tentatively, those big brown eyes making his heart wrench.
“This is the one,” he said, tucking her into the crook of his elbow. Her paw hung over the side of his forearm as if she’d been chilling there for a lifetime. “I’ll take Stella.”
Stella watched the world around her curiously as he completed the paperwork. By the end of Cobra’s visit, she was licking the side of his face, her entire butt wagging with happiness.
“She really likes you,” commented the shelter worker.
“My girlfriend is gonna go wild for her,” Cobra said, laughing as Stella traced his jaw with her puppy kisses. The word girlfriend thrummed through him. It fit. And however much the idea scared him, hopefulness showed up to balance it out.
The shelter set him up with some basics—some dog food, a leash, a pee pad, and plenty of pamphlets about caring for your new dog—and sent him on his way. In the car, Stella sat comically tiny in the passenger side seat. He tried to put a seatbelt over her, but Stella wasn’t having it.
“Ready to go meet your new mom?” Cobra asked. The grin on his face stretched from ear to ear. Fuck, he hadn’t been this giddy in…maybe ever. His forearms prickled with anticipation. He’d never, ever done anything like this, not even remotely close, for anyone.
And Gen would know how special this was. She’d see it. Immediately.
Cobra wanted to show up with the full package ready. He made a pitstop at a boutique grocery store, and carried Stella through the aisles while beautiful middle-aged women cooed at him. The attention overwhelmed him. Between the gasps and the curious questions and even one small group of Asian girls who insisted they take his picture with Stella, it took him way too long to get three new bouquets of daisies and a large gift box.
In his car, he poked practically a hundred air holes into the gift box, extra big, for his new little buddy Stella. Then he set her inside, along with the leash and the pee pad and the pamphlets, and drove the rest of the way to Gen’s house.
The gift box came with a garish red bow on top. Perfect. He popped the lid on right before he turned down Gen’s hallway. In front of the door, he hoisted the box under his arm, then arranged the daisies. No hands left, he rang the doorbell with his elbow.
Silence blossomed in the seconds after he rang. No movement from inside. He rang again.
And then he knocked with his elbow. Just for good measure. In case the doorbell had broken. In case Gen and Sophie were both in the bathroom, using hair dryers at the same time, while metal music played at high volume.
His belly knotted. A warning signal. He knocked a third time.
And then he heard it. The soft scuffle of footsteps. He wet his bottom lip, anticipation sliding cold and slick through him. It was almost too much. He couldn’t handle it.
The door swung open.
Sophie leaned against the door, rubbing at her eyes. Jet-black hair stuck up out of a loose ponytail.
“Cobra?” she asked, squinting out the door.
“Hey.” Disappointment shuddered through him. The box slipped a little so he let it slide to the floor. Stella whimpered from inside. “Is Gen home?”
Sophie blinked a few times, staring at the box. “Is something alive in there?”
“I need to talk to Gen. This is a present for her.”
“Yeah, sure looks like it.” Sophie laughed a little, then she peered up at Cobra. “Gen’s not home. She won’t be back for a while.”
His entire body deflated. His gaze fell to the box. To Stella. Waiting for her new mom. “Okay, well…when will she be back? I’ll wait for her. I don’t mind.”
Sophie cleared her throat, straightening. The air thickened between them, the barometric shift preceding bad news. “She’s actually not in LA anymore. She left the country.”
It took Cobra a few moments to process her words. And even when he did, it still didn’t make any fucking sense. “I don’t…so she’s coming back tonight?”
“No, Cobra.” Sophie smiled sadly. “I don’t know when she’s coming back.”
He blinked. The wrappers of the bouquets crinkled as he shifted them to his other hand. Sophie sighed.
“She didn’t tell you.”
“Uh…no.” Cobra sighed, looking at all the gifts he’d brought for her, like the stupid sap he’d become. His stomach wrenched so hard it damn near snapped in two. Sick heat flooded him, like the feeling that came before puking. “Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.”
“I’m sure she would have liked these gifts, though,” Sophie said, crossing her arms. Trying to find the bright side in the fact that his entire world had just bottomed out.
“Are you serious? She left?”
Sophie nodded.
“Why did she leave?”
“Because she’s always wanted to,” Sophie said.
Cobra grunted, tugging at the front of his hair. He’d combed it flat and neat, but now he could care less. Desperation boiled up inside him, threatening to spill out. “Why wouldn’t she tell me?”
“Uh, probably because you left her stranded in Fresno and didn’t answer your phone for four days?”
Sophie’s words were like a slap to the face. He shook his head, but he couldn’t argue with her.
“I know,” he finally conceded. “I’m a fuckup. I used to be, I mean.” A terse sigh escaped him. “I’m working on it. You know? I’m fucking trying.”
“Well, I’m sure she’ll be happy to know you stopped by,” Sophie said, with that tone that signaled move along now.
“How am I supposed to get ahold of her?” he asked. “I’ve been calling her for days now. Where did she go?”
A mysterious look crossed her face. “You should try e-mailing her. That will be the best way.”
Cobra got out his phone and typed in Gen’s e-mail as Sophie related it, his hands shaking. All he could think of was Stella. Was she hungry? Did she need to go for a walk? There was so much to learn and tackle. Now…he had to do it on his own.
“So where did she go?” he asked again.
“Bye, Cobra. I’ll make sure she knows you stopped by.” Sophie offered one last smile before shutting the door in his face.
He gripped the top of his head, staring down at these proclamations of love that had nowhere to go.
What the fuck now?
Cobra tore off the lid of the box. Stella’s big brown eyes swept up to him, and he picked her up, tucking her back into the crook of his elbow. In the space meant just for her.
“I gotcha, little girl,” he whispered, tossing the daisies inside the box. He pressed a kiss to the soft fur of her head, then picked up the box and stormed down the hallway.
Hurt swirled through him. Even though it had no reason to.
He had hurt Gen first, and he’d hurt her worse.
Chapter 41
Cobra snuck Stella into the apartment in his jacket, leaving the box and daisies in the car. This was risky enough; he didn’t need to draw more attention to himself than necessary.
Both Klay and Tyler were kicked out on the couches, watching a movie. Cobra nodded his greeting and went straight for his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Then he made a little nest for Stella with an extra blanket at the end of his bed, pee pad on the floor beside it.
“Well, what do you think?” Cobra stood, hands
on his hips. He frowned, looking around his dingy room. “This is home.”
The dented walls, the peeling off-white paint, the shitty brown carpet that seemed to be the perfect shade of broke loser.
“Not much to look at, huh?” he asked Stella, who curled up in a small ball. She drifted off a moment later. Poor thing was probably tired from all the car rides. He let himself out of the bedroom quietly, joining Tyler and Klay on the couches.
“Anything good on?”
Tyler shushed him, holding up a hand. From the TV, soft moans emanated. And then he spotted it—full dick, easing in and out of some girl’s very bare pussy. Cobra shook his head, pushing to stand.
“Amateur night,” Klay explained a moment later. His left hand had disappeared beneath the waistband of his shorts.
“Jesus,” Cobra muttered, heading for the kitchen. “Sick fucks.” There had been a time in his life when he’d loved spending a Saturday night like this: holed up, whacking off, doing whatever the fuck he wanted, whenever the fuck he wanted. The circle jerks weren’t fun anymore. Nothing about this place—or these guys—was fun anymore.
He searched the cupboards for a box of mac and cheese, setting water to boil. The credits were rolling when the barking started. Tyler sat up, dark brows drawn together.
“Is that barking I hear?”
Cobra’s stomach pitched to his feet. In the split second he took to figure out his game plan, Klay had leapt to his feet.
“It’s coming from Coby’s room,” he cried out, almost gleefully, and pushed into the bedroom.
Cobra bolted after him, but he didn’t get to Stella before Klay did. Klay whooped with laughter, picking up the tiny dog and holding her above his head. Like an animal toying with its food before devouring.
“Get the fuck out of here!” Tyler said, whooping. He shoved Cobra from behind, which launched him into Klay’s side. “You brought us a pet?”
“Ohhh, this little dog is gonna get soooo high,” Klay cackled.
“Give her to me,” Cobra said, grabbing Klay’s arm. “She’s a friend’s. I’m keeping her overnight.”
“You serious?” Klay looked genuinely upset. “Then we gotta get all our fun in tonight!”
“I’m hurt that you wouldn’t buy us a dog as a present,” Tyler said with feigned displeasure. Cobra’s thighs tensed as Tyler carried Stella into the living room.
“Come on, man,” Cobra said again, trying to figure out his best escape plan. It was clear to him now—Stella couldn’t live here.
For that matter, maybe Cobra couldn’t either.
“Nope. She’s ours.” Tyler plopped onto the couch with a sadistic grin. Cobra’s stomach turned. He had to do something. Now.
Cobra went back into his bedroom, surveying what little bit he had in there. From the living room, Klay and Tyler cackled. “Little puppyyyyy.”
He snagged the business card from the mirror, his phone and wallet, and then stuffed as many clothes as he could grab into his work duffel bag. He didn’t even bother to see what he grabbed, just stuffed and stuffed. He moved the mattress, snaking out the money bag, adding that to the duffel.
“Let’s get him high,” Klay said.
“All right. All right.”
Final sweep of the room. The drawing book. He scooped that up next, placing it on top of his clothes, the drawing book that had once been a library book until he loved it so much he had to buy it. Beyond this, there was nothing else of value. Whatever he lacked, he’d buy. Because he fucking could.
Cobra strode out into the living room, duffel bag slung around him. “Give me the dog.”
“Hang on. Watch. Watch.” Klay fumbled, holding Stella in one hand, while she whimpered and struggled to get out of his grip. Cobra forced his way between Tyler and Klay, reaching for Stella.
“Back off!” Klay backed.
“We’re just having some fun,” Tyler said, clamping down on Cobra’s shoulder. The pressure made him jolt. He rammed his elbow into Tyler’s side, and he doubled over, whining. “Jesus, what was that for.”
In the scuffle, Klay had leapt to his feet, heading to the other side of the living room. He had Stella scooped into his arms.
“You’re acting crazy again, Cobra.”
“Give me the fucking dog.”
Klay’s smile turned sardonic. “What do you care about this thing anyway?” He lifted the dog, squeezing his fingers around Stella’s belly until she yelped. Cobra swallowed hard, measuring his movements, keeping an eye on Tyler off to the side.
He’d fucking kill Klay to get Stella out of here safely. Everything had sharpened to a painful, diamond-cut clarity. This would be her—and his—last minute in this shit hole.
Forever.
He didn’t know what came next, but it didn’t scare him anymore. Time to say fuck you to these guys, to this part of his life. To this twisted version of family that included his mom in prison. Family didn’t have to be like this. He didn’t have to choose this.
“Give her to me,” Cobra spat.
“Oh, it’s a she?” Klay lifted the dog, peering at Stella’s belly, then said, “Tyler! Check her out!”
And then he tossed her. Stella flew through the air, but Tyler wasn’t looking, and Cobra’s stomach slammed down into his feet. He jumped, reaching, reaching, reaching as far as he could, so far his shoulder about damn popped out. His fingers brushed her fur.
And he caught her.
He slammed down onto the ground shoulder first, Stella cradled in his arms. The air whooshed out of him, leaving him a vacuum inside. His shoulder screamed, but he popped to his feet before the pain could really make sense. Stella wriggled and yelped in his arms.
“Fucking pussy,” Klay spat. Cobra rushed for his duffel bag, which Tyler kicked out of his reach. If it weren’t for Stella, he’d make sure both of these assholes never used their jaws again.
“You’re really gonna choose a dog over us?”
Cobra bolted for the bag and snatched it up. He slung it over his shoulder, keeping Stella shielded as he headed for the door.
“He’s choosing that bitch over us,” Klay said. And the way he said it, Cobra knew he wasn’t talking about Stella. This time, it was about Gen. Heat thrummed through his veins, and he fought to keep his focus. Just get out of here.
“Fucking anything is better than this,” Cobra said, flinging the door open so hard the doorknob lodged in the drywall. He raced out the door, down the short flight of steps to the ground level, and out to his car.
He didn’t breathe until he’d locked himself in his car. He turned on the engine, pulled out of the parking spot, and when he waited at the street, blinker ticking dully, he gripped the steering wheel and let that long, tense breath sidle out of him.
Stella yipped from inside the gift box.
They were free.
TO: [email protected]
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: Forgive me?
Hey Genny. It’s me, Cobra. I went to your house yesterday to drop off some surprises but you weren’t there. Sophie told me what’s going on. I’m really proud of you. Sorta wished I could ask for your forgiveness in person but this will have to do.
I’m sorry. For everything.
Let me know if you got this.
Cobra
TO: [email protected]
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: Forgive me? Part 2
Hey Genny,
You haven’t written back yet but also who the fuck knows where you are. You might be on the top of the Eiffel tower by now. Sophie wouldn’t tell me anything about your trip so I guess I just have to imagine it or wait until you write back or maybe never speak to me again. Until one of those things happens I’ll just picture you eating stir fry in China.
Things are going okay. They’d be a lot better if you were here.
But I’ll be fine.
Cobra
TO: [email protected]
FROM: [email protected]
Fuck. I never realized how much you made me love LA until you left.
I’m trying some new things out here. I opened up an account at the library, so the next time we go, your books are on me.
TO: [email protected]
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: Forgive me? Part I don’t even remember
The gym is getting in the Christmas spirit. There’s a huge tree in the front and someone put an enormous ornament up with Travis’s face on it. It’s so damn funny. A new guy started here. His name is Levi and Travis is training him for some big MMA matches coming up. Dude is nuts, though. He fights really well, could probably break records and shit. But he’s gotten arrested once since he started and you know how Travis is.
Fuck, I wish you were here. I went to Clutter’s again and sat there for like three hours. I kept trying to imagine you on one of those planes. What you were thinking about. How fucking proud you must have been.
I’ll get on a plane someday. I will.
TO: [email protected]
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: Forgive me? Still don’t know which part
I hadn’t used my e-mail in like five years until Sophie told me your e-mail. So I hope you’re happy that not only did you get me back to drawing, I also remember how to use my e-mail thanks to you. When are you coming home? I’m trying not to take it personally that you haven’t written back, just kinda hoping you’re really busy sightseeing, and hoping even harder that it’s not with some slick ass Italian dude named Fernando or something, because I would straight beat that guy up if I saw him hanging around you.