Page 20 of Ripple Effect: Ep. 1

Please, God. I’m begging you. I’ll make things right. I’ll take care of her. I’ll get a job and bust my ass but please don’t take her from me. Not tonight.

I’ve already searched the entire perimeter of the Conservatory before I finally stop. Maybe they took off down the street. I’ll never catch up to them in time.

I drop our only belongings onto the sidewalk and fall into a heap, tucking my head into my knees.

For the first time, I sob.

Thick, hot tears run down my cheeks, while visuals of Charlie’s face run through my mind. Wondering why her loyal master had abandoned her. Wondering what she’d done wrong. My head torments me with images of her cornered by some asshole thinking she’s vicious and shooting first.

My head is still partially shielded by the pills, leaving me to question whether or not this is a dream—a post-traumatic hallucination or something. Maybe the guy at the factory really did slit my throat and this is all some crazy form of purgatory until I ship off to hell.

I frown at that, wipe the tears away, and rise to my feet.

At the bark of an angry voice, I jump back, my pulse hitching as the security guard accosts me. “What are you doing here?” He eyes me up and down, taking another step toward me, to which I take one step back.

“I’m … I lost my dog. And my sister.”

“White? Big? Lots of teeth? Yeah, you can find that one at animal control.”

A cold fist of panic closes over my lungs, crushing my breath at the word. “Animal control?” To me, it’s a death sentence, not a safe haven for Charlie. “But why? I’m her owner! She’s not mean.”

He lifts his hand where bright red seeps through gauze wrapped around his fingers and I gulp. Oh no. “Is that what you call not mean?”

“She was probably just … scared is all.”

“All I gotta say is that dog better not come back with rabies.”

“She’s not rabid. I left her and I shouldn’t have.” I have to choke back the tears. “You said animal control took her?”

“Yeah. And I better not see the two of you back here again or I’ll have the police make an arrest.”

“Two? What about the little girl that was with the dog?”

“I ain’t seen a little girl. Just that damn dog.”

Oh no. Layla must’ve run off, a thought that brings both relief and overwhelming guilt. I’d never intended to throw her onto the streets to fend for herself, I simply wanted to keep Randy or Hoss from touching her.

But I’ve made it worse. I’ve endangered her. Tossed her to the wolves, and after tonight, I have no doubt some bastard, perhaps twice as sick as Randy or Hoss, will find her.

“You’re … sure. You didn’t see … she has dark hair. Dark skin. Eight years old.”

“I think I’d remember seeing a little girl. All I saw was the dog. And a lot of fucking teeth.”

If I wasn’t so rattled, I’d probably say something snarky.

I back up a few steps toward the entrance. “Any idea how late they’re open?”

“Closed at nine,” he says over his shoulder, turning back toward the Conservatory.

I reach into my pocket for my pocket watch, my fingertips sliding across the emptiness within. “Shit!” Patting my jeans and my coat sends a rush of dread straight to my already churning stomach. I lost my father’s pocket watch. The only thing I have left of my family.

“It’s four in the morning. They open at seven.” The guard hasn’t yet left, and I lift my gaze to see him standing about ten yards away from me with his hands on his hips. “Time you walk there, it’ll probably kill an hour.”

I nod, wanting nothing more than to find a place to break down. Somewhere quiet where the world can’t see me lose my shit. I don’t even know if this is the worst night I’ve ever had in my life. There’ve been so many. All I know is, this is the most crushing. The most debilitating. I feel numb and all I want to do is feel number. Take what’s left of my Oxy and fall into a deep sleep.

I have to make it through the next few hours, though.

I need to get my dog back.