“That, and his mean right foot, are why we keep him around,” I said to Harley, who had been exceptionally quiet since we got out of the car. I snagged his hand and he let me, leaning against my side as we went into the house.
Nicky was standing in a bare living room, his mouth hanging open. He whirled around so fast that his dreads slapped him on the cheeks. There wasn’t a single piece of furniture in the room.
“This is creepy,” he said. “It wasn’t like this three days ago. What the fucking fuck? Kwan?”
From somewhere deeper in the house, a muffled sound carried out to us. There were no curtains, so it was gloomy but not dark. We walked through several more empty rooms with our shoulders pressed together like we were in a horror movie. Harley was a comforting warmth at my side. We arrived at a short hallway that ended in another tall-ceilinged white-walled room. This one wasn’t empty, however, and it contained a stripped bed, a suitcase open on the floor, and a kennel, which Nicky immediately went on his haunches near. He opened the door and reached inside but stopped short of petting the man huddled in there, and my heart crumpled as I barely recognized the sweet, energetic pup I’d met last weekend.
“Hey, buddy,” Nicky said softly, curling his body closer to the metal. “Uh, I came over because I sort of think you maybe are getting fired for no call-no showing all week.”
“You work together?” Harley asked, and his nose wrinkled. Real irritation had me swatting at his ass without thinking, and though the smack wasn’t hard, he gave me a contrite frown.
“Yeah, at Logistics Business Solutions. It’s boring as hell. We do research for mortgages. Make sure the land doesn’t have liens on it and shit….” Nicky sort of trailed off and reached inside to rest his hand on Kwan’s shoulder.
“Mark left. He said he changed his mind, was gonna stay, and fucked me. Thought we were good. The next day the moving truck showed up anyway.” Kwan didn’t lift his head from where it rested on his arms. He sounded out of it—not drunk, maybe just… fucking destroyed by being abandoned.
Getting down next to Nicky, I reached in and patted Kwan’s arm. “Do you think you can come out of there for us?”
He carefully sat up and raised his head until it almost touched the top of the cage. “I thought you said….” He glanced behind me, I assumed at Harley, and my gut twisted when his golden-brown eyes landed sadly on me.
“What’s going on here?” I asked, horror swelling in my gut. He was pale and shaky and only in a thin blue T-shirt and his boxers. “Do you… are you used to being…. Fuck , are you in a permanent domestic situation? Always a pup at home?”
He shrugged and looked away. “Mark left. Took everything, even the stuff we bought together. Said he was going home to California, and… I can’t. I’m not good alone. By myself. I’ve never been by myself.”
Nicky glanced around. “We make twelve bucks an hour on a good day at work. This place isn’t happening alone, is it?”
Harley murmured, “That’s probably why the landlord is out there. I bet your ex turned the house over. Was it only in his name?”
Kwan nodded miserably. “The landlord said yesterday I had to go, but I can’t go back to my parents. I can’t.” He hooked his fingers in the sides of his kennel and hung his head, for all the world looking broken. My heart crumpled a little more for the poor guy, especially after how perfect my Harley cat had just made my morning. No one deserved to feel the way he looked like he did.
“The world is a wonderful place, boy. Get out of that cage,” I ordered.
Nicky stood, and I did too, backing away. Kwan slid out to join us, and Harley was already digging through the suitcase nearby. He handed over clothes, and Nicky and I helped him get dressed.
“What am I going to do?” Kwan mumbled.
“My kitty, Harley,” I started, and Harley glanced away from us. “He said you can stay at my place until you get this all figured out. I’ll help you.”
He flung himself at me and I had no choice but to catch him, wouldn’t have had it in me to do anything else anyway. He was solid and warm, but he trembled in my hold. I gave him a hearty squeeze, and he burrowed his face in against my chest.
“He’s my Master,” Harley eased close to us and whispered, and I was sort of shocked to see the low-grade fury pulling his lips up into a near snarl. “He’s my owner. You remember that, canine.”
Kwan nodded, and Nicky looked totally steamrolled from where he stood nearby, his eyes staring holes in Kwan’s back.
“I can’t believe he would just… leave you here,” Nicky said furiously. “How long were you two—”
“Maybe not now,” I cut in, and Nicky nodded at me with a wince, perhaps realizing that wasn’t a good question at the moment.
“We gotta go, folks,” Madden’s bright voice cut through the room. “Mr. Lombardozzi is calling the sheriff on us as we speak. Never fear, friends, my person, Evan, is on his way with his massive truck. I can personally attest he has nothing to compensate for, so no, I don’t know why he owns the damned thing, but lucky for us, he can move….” Madden came to stand in the doorway with his arms crossed and inspected the room with raised eyebrows. “Okay, less than I thought there would be. But we can move everything.”
Kwan shrugged against me and finally stood back on his own two feet, wiping his hand under his nose. “The only things that are mine are the suitcase and this,” he said, waving at the kennel.
“We’ll bring it to Brad’s,” Madden said, and he gave me one of those concerned, friendly looks that had made me like him nearly immediately after he and Evan joined our kickball team. I nodded back at him and his smile cranked up a few notches.
“Come on, puppy.” I took one of his arms, and I was surprised when Harley slid to his other side. Kwan walked stiffly between us, and I had to wonder how many days he’d spent curled up in his kennel. Dull rage began to throb in my chest. If I ever saw that douchebag fucking shitty owner of his again, he would not enjoy it.
As we left the front door into the sunlight, I noticed a greenish bruise on the back of his neck that hadn’t really been noticeable inside. Impulsively, I lifted the back of his shirt.
“You’re covered in old bruises,” I said dumbly before I could stop myself. The greens and purples were splotched like sick artwork over his back.
