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“Fuck that.” Suddenly Clint had his phone out and was snapping a photo of Oscar’s collar, which had his information on it. “You’ll be hearing from me.”
“Like I told you: time for you to move along,” Darius said, stepping up beside me. “You wouldn’t want those businessmen you came with to know you hang around riffraff. They might wonder what you’re up to.”
Clint opened his mouth to speak, then promptly shut it. He turned and strode away.
I stood there blinking in shock. Had all that really happened?
“What a horrible person,” Joe said. “Glad your dog wasn’t hurt.”
Me too, Joe. Me too. It could’ve ended up way worse.
I sighed, wishing I’d walked away from the get-go before Clint grabbed me and Oscar went into protective mode. “Thanks for your support.”
Darius nodded. “We gotta watch out for each other.”
32
FOSTER
I could tell something was wrong as soon as Lachlan came through the door with wary eyes and slumped shoulders.
I’d texted him an hour ago to let him know I was on my way home, and he’d told me he was at the police station, helping other victims file assault reports. That’d surprised me but also not. Lachlan had just the right amount of charm to make a convincing argument for others to get involved. Once he’d made the decision for himself, he was all in.
Oscar was waiting for me when I got here, so I fed him while I watched the clock. I had an appointment with my therapist tonight but also wanted to be there for Lachlan when he arrived.
“Did something happen at the station?” I asked as he trudged inside, his eyes downcast, as if he couldn’t look at me.
“No…no, it went well.” He greeted Oscar with a preoccupied pat on the head. “They have plenty of eyewitnesses now.”
“Okay, good.” Maybe the whole process was too overwhelming for him, and I could certainly understand that. “Are you all right? Run out of spoons?”
“No, I…” He turned to look at me. “I’m so sorry I got you involved in my life.”
My stomach bottomed out. “What are you talking about?”
His fingers absently went to work on his bracelets. “Me living with you, the police being involved, and now maybe even more trouble.”
“Trouble?” I didn’t know what happened, but it was obviously something he felt guilty about. I reached for his hand and led him to sit beside me on the couch. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. What’s going on?”
“I was under the bridge, about to walk over to the station with the others, when I heard someone call my name. It was Clint.”
My eyes flashed to his. “Holy shit.”
“I should’ve never taken Oscar with me.” At some point he’d brought the dog home, which at first I thought it was so he could join the others inside the police station, but maybe that wasn’t at all what happened.
Panic arose in me as I bent down to look Oscar over. “Did Clint hurt Oscar?”
“No.” He grimaced. “It was the other way around.”
My breath sputtered out of me. “What do you mean?”
“Clint had raised his voice and grabbed my arm.” He demonstrated on me. “Oscar growled in warning, then lunged at his leg.”
My hand slammed against my mouth. “Oh my God, he’s never done anything like that!”
Looking at Oscar’s serene position at our feet now, there was no way you could imagine him wanting to hurt someone, no matter how much of a bastard they were.
“He was protecting me. I don’t know if he broke skin, but Clint said he would file charges.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m so sorry. I’m afraid what this will mean for you and Oscar.”
“It’s okay. Take a deep breath.” I pushed a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “Maybe he’s just full of hot air.”
He frowned. “No. He’s vindictive.”
I swallowed the boulder in my throat. “How would he know how to find you? Us?”
“He took a photo of Oscar’s collar. Even if the picture is blurry, he could still find a way.” He stared out the window. “Marcie might help him. She could ask the Rocky River salon manager for my contact information.”
“Fuck. Come here. It’s okay.” I pulled him into my arms, and he came willingly, burying his face in my neck. “No matter what happens, we’ll figure it out. Together.”
Hopefully I’d get off with a fine for a first-time offense if I agreed to muzzle my dog in public. It would suck, but also, it was better than the news stories of certain breeds of dogs being put down for being too much of a threat. Still, I wasn’t going to let Lachlan know that. It wasn’t his fault, and he felt guilty as it was.
The mood was somber as we ate leftovers and snuggled on the couch, Lachlan recounting the event for me again. Unfortunately, it overshadowed the good that happened afterward—getting three of the unhoused population to file police reports about the assaults. That was huge and something to be celebrated, but it was like Lachlan was living in the gray now, and I didn’t know if I had the strength to pull him into the light. So I just held on to him, trying to be his anchor, when really, he was mine.
