Will returned from the mud room with a baseball cap in hand. "No, none of that is even remotely necessary to retrieve a fifteen pound dog," he said. "I needed to change out of my golf shoes."
"You don't think we need night vision goggles?" Riley asked.
Will settled the cap on his head and turned an expectant glare toward me, Patrick, and Matt. "We don't need night vision goggles," he said, "but I think these guys want to come along for the ride. Isn't that right?"
"I thought Batman worked alone," Patrick said.
Riley considered this for a moment. "Less than you'd expect," he said.
"A safe mission to you all," the Commodore said. "I'll update the women."
"Don't tell Shannon anything," Will said. "She'll want to come along and knock this asshole's lights out."
The Commodore nodded. "You're on a beer run."
"Exactly," Patrick said.
With some reluctance, we agreed to this expedition. It went without saying that we were still harboring some uncertainty when it came to Magnolia. Tiel had smoothed things over with her months ago, and Magnolia and I had shared an incredibly brief and stilted exchange not long after that, but Riley was the only one who interacted with her regularly. For us to come to her dog's rescue seemed peculiar, but she was Riley's friend and she needed help. It was the right thing to do.
"We're like the Justice League," Riley said from the front seat of Will's SUV. "That is, if we reconfigured everyone's assignments." He gestured to Will. "You can be Aquaman, obviously."
"This is where you stop talking," Will said.
The ride to Malden was quick and quiet. Where I expected Will to offer some primer on negotiating with relationship terrorists, he was silent. When we arrived at Sac Sweat's neighborhood—Riley'd indicated his name was Cole, but we were sticking with Sac Sweat—Will circled the block twice before pulling up in front of the house.
"You go to the door," he said to Riley. "Get him talking and see if he'll hand over the dog. The rest of you watch his six. Try to look intimidating. Do nothing but stand there because a substantial force speaks power. Don't engage with this douche canoe, and don't throw down unless he goes there first. I'm heading around back."
Riley gave a decisive nod. "Autobots," he yelled, and sliced his hand forward. "Roll out."
While the four of us approached the door—still dressed for the golf course, naturally—Will crouched down along the fence and darted toward the backyard.
"This is going to be exciting," Patrick grumbled as Riley rang the doorbell. The sound sent the dog into a furious barking fit, and we listened as Sac Sweat yelled at him to shut up. "Really exciting."
The door swung open, and Sac Sweat took in our clothes with a sneer. "Isn't it a little late for you guys to be out selling retirement accounts?"
He was a big guy but it wasn't hard to see that he went for the bulk over strength. He was wearing loose track pants and a deliberately tight t-shirt, and several saints' medals along with his gold crucifix.
"No curfew tonight," Riley said easily. "I'm here for Magnolia's dog."
"What dog?" Sac Sweat asked with a shrug. Gronk was still barking.
"Dude," Riley drawled. "Come on. Give me the dog and we'll call it a day."
Sac Sweat flipped him off before crossing his beefy arms over his chest. "I'm not yourdude, bro, and I don't have anyone's dog. Get the fuck off my porch."
Where the hell is Will?
Riley waved at the door. "We canallhear the dog," he said. "She doesn't even want the rest of her stuff back. Just the dog. You can keep the furniture and the flat screen television, and that's awfully generous with you being such a fucking cumstain and all."
"No dog here," Sac Sweat said with a flippant shrug. "Bitch must have me confused with some other guy she was banging."
"Oh, you mean this dog?" Will called from inside the house. He was headed straight for Sac Sweat, and had Gronk tucked under his arm. "We're taking him with us. Where are his toys?"
"Who the fuck are you?" Sac Sweat roared. "How the fuck did you get in my house?"
Will reached out and grabbed his wrist, and within an eye blink, he was falling to his knees and howling in pain.
"You like these fingers?" Will asked. He sounded casual, as if he was asking how he liked his steak cooked. "You wouldn't want these fingers broken, would you? Good, good. Now, get up, you fucking cocksucker, and find the goddamn dog toys."
