Chapter 19
NINETEEN
COLE
I can feel her body before I’m fully awake. And I can hear the low tap-tap-tap-tap of fingertips drumming on wood. Neither of those make me want to open my eyes, but I know it’s inevitable to face both.
When I lift my eyelids, my gaze immediately lands on Sophie. She’s fast asleep, curled up next to me, her body nestled against my chest.
A blink and a slight turn of my head later, I see Jules sitting at the table. She has her chin propped up in one hand while she makes this fucking annoying noise with the other, staring at me meaningfully.
I groan and close my eyes for a moment before carefully rolling away from Sophie and sitting up on the edge of the bed, burying my face in my hands. "Fuck," I mutter, regretting having drunk so damn much.
"I’m eager to hear your explanation."
Jules’s voice nearly makes my head explode, causing me to grimace. "Shut up."
She makes an indignant sound. "I won’t. So? How is it that I wake up to find Sophie next to you? Did you guys—"
I lift my head so abruptly that it makes her pause. "Have you lost your fucking mind?" I growl and stand. "I didn’t touch her. You really should know me better."
She contorts her face before relenting. "You’re right. I’m sorry. But I’d still like to know why she’s in your bed."
I rub my hands over my face again, then head for the coffee machine to turn it on. "She couldn’t sleep, so I offered to let her lie beside me."
"Uh-huh," Jules says, raising a brow. "And that was the only reason you did it? That she couldn’t sleep?"
"What kind of stupid question is that?" I quietly snap and turn to her after deciding not to make myself a coffee because the machine might wake Sophie. "I was wasted. How the fuck am I supposed to know what I was thinking?"
Jules returns my gaze without batting an eyelash. Then she shakes her head slowly, tilting it a little while doing so. "You’re really an idiot, Cole Walker. I’ve never come across someone as slow on the uptake as you."
"I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I beg you to shut. The fuck. Up. I can’t deal with this right now." Without giving her the chance to say more, I snatch my cigarettes and dash outside.
We spent the rest of the day chilling on the couch while Jules played one movie after another and insisted on ordering pizza. I kept dozing off because I was hungover, and Sophie ate so many slices of pizza that she almost got sick.
In the early evening, I pulled myself together to visit Buster. Neither Jules nor Sophie wanted to come, and their expression when I mentioned the dog’s name made me leave even faster.
While driving, my thoughts drift back to the previous night.
Goddamn… I know exactly what happened. Sophie stood there like an angel, asking if I was alright.
I remember how soft her skin felt beneath mine.
That I offered to let her lie down next to me, and it just wasn’t fucking enough.
I needed to feel her even though I haven’t the slightest idea what that was about.
But something like that can’t happen again.
Whatever I was thinking in my foggy, drunken brain was foolish and not fair to Sophie.
I don’t know what she thinks about all of this because she didn’t say a word.
Although I could feel her gaze on me again and again, I did not return it, being too afraid of what I would see in her amber eyes.
Because even though she lay there snuggled up to me in the morning, I can’t imagine that it didn’t confuse her.
I don’t even understand why she let it get this far in the first place.
Why didn’t she leave? Why did she actually lie down with me and even let me hold her?
My head spins, and the pounding in my skull from the damn whiskey gets worse as I cross the town line. But the feeling of her body against mine… I can’t forget that, despite everything.
When a gas station comes into view, I pull in to get cigarettes. While I wait for the customer in front of me to pay, my gaze wanders over the rack of newspapers until it lingers on one of the headlines.
KIDNAPPER AT LARGE
Local Girl Missing — Police Seek Witnesses
Kidnapper? Wow. Great. Could it get any better?
There’s no point in asking how deep in the shit I am.
Whether I bring Sophie back now or they find out she was with me three months from now, it probably doesn’t matter.
This is not going to end well if they suspect I’ve harmed a single hair on her head.
And they would. Because let’s face it: Who would believe me?
My rap sheet covers everything from theft and vandalism to bodily harm, traffic obstruction, and even suspected negligent homicide.
No, I certainly wouldn’t stand a chance in front of a jury.
They would find me guilty even before I could say my name.
But what’s done is done. Sophie’s with me now, and I can’t turn back time. If they get me with this, so be it. I’ve been waiting for three years for them to finally lock me up, so it wouldn’t be too much of a surprise.
Buster’s getting better day by day. He devours the sausage I brought, and I can’t help but smile at the mess he’s making.
"Tastes better than the canned food you get here, huh?"
He licks his lips and then sniffs at my fingers, looking for more.
Behind me, the voice of the doctor on duty reaches my ears. "We’ll discharge him the day after tomorrow."
I turn to face her. "So soon?"
"Yes. Since he finally stopped licking the stitches, the wound is healing well. Plus, we need the space, so he’s being sent to the local shelter."
I don’t like that thought. I know exactly what it feels like to be passed on simply because you’re unwanted. Not that I would compare myself to a dog, but I’ve been there too.
"He’s going to miss you." She comes closer and squats next to me to pet Buster.
Groaning, I roll my eyes but avoid her gaze. "Not you too. I get it. It’s horrible of me not to take him, but I can’t."
"Why not?"
A snide snort escapes me before I give her an angry look. "Why not? Well, because I’m not running a fucking charity."
I expect her to throw me out or at least scold me for my harsh words, but she just chuckles, shaking her head. "That’s the reason you won’t give a home to a dog you clearly care about? Because you’re not running a fucking charity?"
Is she for real?
Why does everyone think they know what’s going on inside me better than I do? "What makes you believe I—"
"Oh, please," she interrupts me with a knowing grin. "I’ve seen countless dogs like him. They were all strays, and many were never visited afterward by whoever brought them in. But the few that were visited ultimately went home with those same people. You’d be the first person in my eighteen years as a vet to bring a stray in, pay for its costs, visit him every damn day, and then act like you didn’t care about it. "
I avert my gaze. The disinfectant must have gone to her head. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be talking such bullshit.
"I don’t get why you don’t allow yourself to like Buster and admit that you care about him. But whatever might be the reason for that, let it go. It will only make your life miserable." Then she rises and leaves without another word.
If only it were that easy… but it’s not. Nothing’s ever been easy for me. And this thing she was talking about? Letting go of it seems impossible.
Just as I’m about to park in front of the warehouse, my phone rings.
I can already tell from the tone that it’s Jules, which is why I ignore it and go inside.
Before I’ve even climbed the last steps, she literally runs into me.
The look on her face makes my alarm bells go off, but I don’t get a chance to ask her what happened as she throws herself into my arms.
"My mother just called."
And just like that, everything else fades into the background as Jules bursts into tears.