think about this... Capone is probably exhausted and he could use a good meal. If you won’t accept my help for you, how about accept it for him?”
I stare at him hard for just a moment, casually noting how the late afternoon sun makes his eyes glow. My resolve is weakening, only because I’m tired, hungry, and I’m finding my own pride may have some limits. Then my eyes go down to Capone. He’s sound asleep on his back, my fingers grazing the hair on his belly. I can’t help the dopey smile that comes to my face just by looking at the bag of fur lying there, and I’m sure my expression tells Flynn that I’ve just capitulated.
4
Rowan Page is one tough nut. If it were just her, sitting in front of her psycho ex-boyfriend’s house, wearing nothing but paper-thin scrubs and faced with spending the night in the streets, she would have never accepted my help. But it was a slam-dunk move for me to bring her dog into play. She cares more about that beast than she does about herself and I have no shame in using that against her.
“Well, let’s get going. I’m going to need to stop at a store to get some dog food.”
I hold my hand out to her to help her from the ground. She ignores it and springs up from the grass on her own. We walk silently to the car and Capone follows. Even as tired as I know she must be—even as beat-down as she must be feeling—I’m amazed that she walks with her shoulders straight and her head held high.
Rowan opens the back door and motions for Capone to jump in. He does and lies down across the seat, apparently exhausted from his all-day adventure outside. I’m going to be cleaning out dog hair for months, I can tell.
Rowan and I get in the car and we take off toward the nearest Key Food. I briefly contemplate heading to Gateway Center so I can get some clothes for Rowan, but I’m afraid she’ll bolt if I leave her alone too long.
To kill some time and try to figure out the enigma that is this woman, I glance over at her and ask, “So... what’s your story?”
She looks at me sharply. “Mind your own business. My story’s not that interesting anyway.”
I’m not deterred, and her standoffish attitude makes me even more determined. “Not interesting? You were chained to a bed and nearly burned alive by your drug-dealing ex-boyfriend, and you’re saved at the last minute by your wonder-mutt and a dashingly handsome firefighter. You seriously don’t think you’re interesting?”
Glancing back at her, I can see the corners of her mouth lift up ever so slightly but they never even come anywhere close to a real smile. I’m relieved to know, however, that this ball-busting girl has a small measure of humor inside. That is completely at odds with her tough persona, and now makes her a gazillion times more interesting.
I literally have no choice but to press on.
“Come on... tell me something to satisfy my curiosity. How old are you?”
She apparently thinks that’s safe enough and quickly answers, “Just turned twenty-three.”
I let a brief silence stretch on, waiting to see if she’ll say anything else. She doesn’t, nor does she even appear to have any curiosity about me... the strange man who she is going to be staying the night with.
“I’m twenty-six,” I tell her, just to keep the conversation going. “Where are you from originally? I hear a little bit of a southern accent, right?”
She doesn’t answer as quickly and her words are softer... more tentative than the brash way she normally talks. “I left Texas when I was eighteen and haven’t looked back.”
The silence that lays heavy after that statement tells me this is not a subject near and dear to her heart. I can tell that leaving Texas was both a blessing and a curse for her.
I ponder my next question, because while I know this girl and her dog will stay with me tonight, I can’t help but worry what will become of her tomorrow. It’s none of my business... I
“Listen... I’m not trying to pry into your business and I’m not going to tell the cops anything, but what’s the deal with this guy? Was he trying to kill you? You know the cops could protect you.”
She snorts at me and when I glance at her, she’s giving me a chastising look. “Get real. You saw that cop back at the hospital. They want me to get to Juice. They want Juice to get to his supplier. The safest thing for me would be to just get lost and hope Juice doesn’t find me.”
She’s in a tough place. I get it. I certainly don’t know anything about the drug world but the one thing I do know is that it is big money, and that type of money is always more important than a human life, which does put her at risk.
“I understand,” I tell her, and I sincerely mean it. “I’m not so sure I wouldn’t do the same thing as you.”
She doesn’t say anything and I don’t ask any further questions. The silence lays heavy between us but it doesn’t mean I’m not trying to think of a game plan. Maybe she could stay with me for a while until we could figure out how to get her out of danger. Which sounds fucking ludicrous because I know it’s not my problem.
“You really mean that?”
My thoughts are interrupted by her soft voice. “Mean what?”
“That you get why I don’t want to deal with the cops.”
“Yeah... I do. Sounds dangerous to me, and they have bigger fish to fry. I’m not saying I don’t think the cops could be of help at some point, but I do understand you not wanting to trust them. I respect it.”
She doesn’t respond and I take a quick glance at her. She’s just staring at me with bewilderment in her eyes. It’s like she’s seeing me for the first time and isn’t exactly sure what she’s looking at.
“So, you gonna share with me anything else about yourself?” I ask her, hoping that I’ve shown her I have her best interests at heart. She doesn’t even have the manners to respond, but just looks out her window, staring at the city rolling by.
“No, huh?” I decide to keep talking, even if she doesn’t want to participate. I’ve always been a chatterbox —my mom’s words, not mine—and I want her to see that she can trust me.
“I’m from New Jersey originally... Englewood. Both my parents still live there and I get over to visit as much as possible. My sister, Renner, just moved to Ireland... following her new boyfriend. He plays in a band or some shit like that and he’s on tour now.”
My heart stutters for a beat... thinking of Renner. I hope she’s okay, and I hope she’s happy. We text each other nearly every day, and she certainly seems to be both. I’m really happy for her, but damn if I don’t miss her like crazy.
The monologue continues. “I don’t have any other siblings but I have two cousins that are about as close as brothers to me. My cousin, Nix, lives across the river, near my parents and his dad. He’s a metal artist but he also builds custom motorcycles. And his brother, Linc, just moved to Phoenix. He plays—”
“Linc Caldwell? As in the former goalie for the Rangers?”
I turn and grin at her, psyched that I found something to engage her in conversation. “Yup. The one and only. Are you a fan?”
Turning my eyes back to the road, I can’t help but take one more quick peek at her. I see a wisp of a smile and her eyes look a bit livelier. “I love hockey and definitely pull for the Rangers. I was sad to see him go.”
“Yeah... he was sad to go to. I can get you an autographed picture or something if you want.”
Her voice is sharp as a razor. “And just what would I do with it? Frame it and set it on the mantel that hangs over my fireplace?”
Just when I thought I had her softened up a bit, she closes back up. Luckily, the conversation is saved from going further as I pull up to the grocer near my apartment. Putting the car in park, I leave the engine running so she and Capone will have the air conditioning.
I point to the backseat where I can see Capone is snoozing hard. “Anything in particular he likes to eat?”
