She takes another step back, pushing the oversized glasses up her nose. “No. No, I’m sorry, I can’t do this...”
“You can’t do what?” I step forward, cuddling the soiled pup into my hold by my side. “She’s your responsibility.”
“Um, no. Actually, if you could take her back to the shelter at St. Peter’s on Fifth... I have to go.”
Her face tightens as her chin wobbles, and she stalks back to the crowd. The mutated whine of the school bells clambers out, its sound wobbled by the melted unit. It sounds more like a deranged clown laughing than the signal of the end of a productive school day.
Only in New York, folks.
Boots scuff my way, and I look up to see Owens heading over.
“Oh.” She holds her hands out for the pup. “Cap said you made an important rescue. Oh baby, you’re perfect. Look at you, sweet girl.”
“You want her, her current owner just became her previous owner,” I grunt out.
The pup wriggles in Owens’s hold, whining as she looks back at me with big brown eyes.
Ah, shit.
Owens takes one glance between the two of us and hands her back. “Looks like someone just became a father.” She winks, walking back to the crew. To spread the news, no doubt. I wish she wouldn’t. I’m not keeping the dog.
I live in a one-bedroom apartment.
No room.
No grass.
No pets allowed.
“Hammond, you’re on clean up.” Cap waves me over.
“Alright, Petal. Time to sit in the truck. Don’t eat anything you’re not supposed to.”
The dog shrinks at my tone.
Plucking up my gear, I cross the parking lot, stepping over the hoses. I open the back door, setting her in the footwell. “Stay.”
Surprisingly, she curls up on the floor, dropping her head to her paws.That felt way too easy...
I shut the door and return my helmet to my head. The mask I stow away with the other equipment in the side locker of the engine. Owens grins at me as I make my way over to the rest of the crew.
“What are you looking at?”
“Fatherhood suits you, Milo. Nice one.”
“Fuck off. Hand me the rake.”
The larger, heavier chunks of glass, I’ll clean up, leaving Owens with the industrial-sized broom.
She holds out the rake. “If it’s any consolation, the last time a girl looked at you like that, she was a psycho. Least this little lady has a pure heart.”
I roll my eyes and whack her with the handle of the rake. “Start raking, Heids, or you’re on wash-up duty for a month.”
My last relationship imploded much like the fires we attend. That’s what happens when you try to make something work that by all rights shouldn’t.
Her eyes narrow as horror etches over her face. “The betrayal.”
I chuckle, and she starts sweeping up the glass from the windows that blew out earlier. She grins up at me, and we make quick work of the parking lot while the police and Cap take statements and disperse the growing crowd.
