"Then let’s find a compromise, okay? I’ll suffer through the horrible pain of not having to take the bus back and forth so you guys know where I am, and I promise that I’ll let you know if anything happens or if I go anywhere else."
"I’m going to hold you to that until we know the danger is over. We’ll take you to work. We’ll pick you up. Every day, no exceptions. And if anything, and I mean fucking anything, happens, you're gonna blow up our fucking phones. Got it?" He crosses his powerful arms over his chest and glares down at me. I’m sure he’s trying to be stern, but it’s mostly just sexy.
“Cross my heart, hope to die,” I say.
He pulls me in for a hard, fast kiss that leaves me gasping. “This is a warning, honey. You have our attention, and that comes with some shit, both good and bad. You’ve seen enough to know that first hand. When it comes down to it, you might have to choose between whatever we are, and keeping your life clean of us. Trying to keep a foot in both worlds doesn’t usually go real well."
I don't even know what to say. Because, yeah, he’s probably right. Two years ago I was dead set on burying any trace of my history, and only having Nat and Clark as my last links to their world, but even before I met Beast and the others, I’d already realized that wasn’t going to work. “You’re right. But I don’t need to decide today, right?”
Piston nods. “Right. Now turn around and let me watch that ass walk away.”
Jesus, now I'm going to be thinking dirty things all day. And the way his smirk widens, he knows it.
17
SANDRA
The door isopen to Travis’s office when I walk in. He looks up from his desk. “Is this going to be a thing now?” He nods his head in the direction of Piston pulling out of the parking lot.
"You know I have family in the Eagles, remember? They're nice and they do good things." Mostly. Sometimes. So long as you don’t cross them.
He scoffs at that. "I know, but it hasn’t been an issue until now. Suddenly they seem to be showing up a lot, and you can’t tell me you honestly think they’re the good guys. They run guns and drugs. Theykillpeople."
And here he is, reminding me why I gave up on pretending to be normal.
"Well, who's better out there? There’s always going to be gangs or Mafia or biker clubs, and they're all trouble, right? Or maybe the cops? Even if they mean well, most of the time they can’t do anything but fill out paperwork. The Screaming Eagles aren’t angels, but they watch their turf." I'm more insulted than I thought I'd be at him saying bad things about the boys.
"Their turf, sure, but they don’t run the whole city. I heard a rumor that they blew up a hotel! I can’t believe you’re really defending them, but maybe I shouldn’t be surprised. Women always do seem to go for the bad boys, right?” He slaps his laptop closed. "I’ve gone to that bar of theirs. It’s disgusting how they treat women. Maybe you’re right. Maybe another group would just take over if they went away, but at least they might have some class.”
He might not be saying it out loud, but it’s hard not to hear the implication that he thought I was better than this. I want to smack him, but he’s my boss, and I don’t think he’s actually a bad guy, just judgmental. "What have you done so far?"
"I did a visual check of everybody, and have two dogs ready for transfer to a foster home. I just finished their paperwork, so I’ll drive them over now that you’re here to hold down the fort. Oh, don't forget the gala is next week. I'm going to need some extra hours for both you and Carl to help out while I get things ready."
"Sure thing. I should be free."
We head back to the kennel together. The moment we come in, the dogs are up, excited, tails wagging and happy barking. Being in the kennel can stress them out, which is why the foster homes are so important. Sometimes the only thing keeping a dog from being adopted is the fact that they can’t relax. Even spending part of their time in a normal home environment is huge. I start at the far end of the row, filling dog bowls from one of our big bags of chow.
Travis lets a couple of new arrivals that I haven't gotten to know yet out of their cages and hooks leashes on their collars. One looks like some sort of shepherd or malinois mix, and the otheris a bully like Junkyard, but bigger and older. "Come on, boys. You've got a big day ahead of you."
"You’re fostering them already?" I should be the last person to say something considering Jerry is still taking care of Junkyard. Last I heard, he and Darren were falling in love with her.
“One of my regular places had some room. I prefer to get big dogs that might have energy or aggression problems out of the kennel ASAP.”
"Yeah, I can see that. It’s great that you pay so much attention. Do we have their pictures up online yet?"
He shrugs. "The foster will take care of it. I'm going to take the van. You don’t need it, do you?"
"No, you’re good to go. I'll get started on cleaning." I start with Bigfoot, who loses his little walnut sized mind when I open the hatch into the yard for him to go crazy while I clean his kennel.
"Okay. Good. Right." Travis gives the leashes light tugs to get the dogs to follow, then takes them out the side door. A moment later I hear the van start and he’s off.
Leaving me alone.
In spite of Piston’s worrying, I'm not nervous. The shelter is tucked away and doesn’t really get any foot traffic. And even if someone does try to cause a problem, I have nearly a dozen fuzzy protectors.
“Right, Killer?” I reach through the neighboring cage to scratch the miniature poodle behind the ear. We only know the name from his collar, but his chip wasn’t up to date so we haven't managed to find his owner yet. He might not be the bestprotector, but he’ll bark up a storm. What he lacks in size, he makes up for in persistence.
I get about half the kennels done before I take a break to throw in laundry. Travis’s annoyance with the Screaming Eagles is still bugging me, and now I’m curious about this foster home. It’s not uncommon for dogs to get adopted straight from their foster spots, but I’m usually the one that updates the database when they do.
