Once, Juice yelled at Capone for a solid fifteen minutes because he refused to sit for him. After he slammed out of the house in anger, I watched in amazement as Capone calmly walked into the bedroom and peed in one of Juice’s tennis shoes. Of course, I had to clean it up before Juice got home, because he would have beat Capone if he knew he did that. I tried to chastise the furry monster but I ended up giggling every time I tried to say, “Bad dog” to him. It remained our little secret.
Turning back down the street where Juice lived, I can feel my throat starting to get tight. The burned-out husk of a house is just a block away.
I call for him again.
Nothing.
Pulling back up to the curb, I lower my forehead to the wheel and try to take a deep breath. It comes out in a stuttering gasp and tears pool in my eyes. I hastily blink at them and square my shoulders. There isn’t time to grieve for my dog when I’ve only been searching for twenty minutes. When Flynn meets me back here, I’ll tell him to go on home and then I’ll keep looking.
I’ll look all night and won’t stop until I find him.
Raising my head up from the steering wheel, I look out the front window and my heart almost explodes in joy.
Flynn is standing on the sidewalk in front of Juice’s house, holding Capone by the collar. He’s giving me that one-dimpled smile, but I can’t even return it. My eyes right now are only for my dog.
Throwing the door open, I step out of the car and, as soon as Capone sees me, he bolts out of Flynn’s grip. The move almost topples Flynn over but I see that he regains his footing just as Capone barrels into me. I fall backward onto the two-foot wide patch of grass that constitutes a front yard and he lays his big body right down on top of mine, lowering his huge head to my face and licking me all over.
My hands come up to rub the silky fur just behind his ears and I can feel his fluffy tail furiously thumping against my legs. He even starts to whine a little, he’s so happy to see me.
And all of a sudden, I can’t hold it in any more. I refused to cry every time Juice tried to hurt me. Not even a drop spilled from my eyes when my escape from him was thwarted and he chained me to the bed. I refused to let the tears come when he stuck a needle in my arm, shooting me up with something that rendered me into a puddle of uselessness. I wouldn’t even weep when I gained consciousness in the hospital and learned I’d almost been burned alive.
But now... now that I have my dog back, I feel like it’s the most joyous occasion in my entire existence and I cannot stop the tears of happiness that start pouring out. No matter... Capone just licks them up as soon as they spill.
After several minutes of being wrapped up in puppy goodness, a shadow casts over us and I look up to see Flynn standing there. He has a warm smile on his face.
“I’d say the two of you are happy to see each other.”
Pushing Capone off to the side of me, I sit up but keep my arm around him, rubbing him constantly. “Yeah... I really don’t know how to thank you. Where did you find him?”
Flynn squats down next to us and points toward the west. “Just a few blocks over. He was meandering in between two houses. He came to me when I called his name.”
I focus my gaze on Capone and he looks back at me with his soft, brown eyes. My heart melts even further, and suddenly I could care less that I’m homeless and have just a set of surgical scrubs to my name. I have my best friend with me now, and with that, I can accomplish anything.
Gratitude for Flynn’s help overwhelms me and I look up at him. I hope he understands the sincerity in my voice when I say, “Thank you.”
“It was nothing.”
Reaching out, I grab a hold of his wrist. His gaze flickers down briefly to where we are touching and then back to me. “No... it was everything to me. Capone is the most important part of my life and I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t found him.”
To prove he is in puppy heaven, Capone rolls over on his back and bares his belly to me. I start to scratch him there and his eyes roll into the back of his head. Taking a moment, I grab each paw and run my fingers over the pads, checking for cuts. He seems to be good and I sigh in relief he hasn’t been hurt.
Flynn rocks backward from his squat and sits down on the grass across from us. Gazing over my shoulder to the burned-out house, he says, “I assume everything you owned was in there?”
“Yeah. Just clothes though. Nothing much.”
“What about money? Credit cards? ID?”
“Nope,” I say but I don’t elaborate further. Juice had taken all of my money except for a small, secret stash I left at a friend’s house, I’ve never had a credit card in my life and I didn’t have any ID. When I left home at the age of eighteen, I changed my name but not in a formally legal manner. As far as the real world knew, I was still Anne Marie Cleeden. As far as my world was concerned, I was Rowan Page and had been from the day I stepped foot into New York City.
I’ve never needed an ID because every job I’ve worked has always been for cash under the table. Never filed a tax return in my life, but then again, I couldn’t... Rowan Page doesn’t really exist on paper.
“So where are you going to stay? Can I give you a lift somewhere?”
While I’m gratefully appreciative of the help that Flynn has given me, it’s time to part ways. I’m a loner and I hate relying on anyone but myself. So the lie falls easily from my lips. “Sure... I have a few friends I can crash with until I can get back on my feet. You really don’t have to hang around here.”