I hopped on another bus, but I didn’t go home.
I needed something to clear my head and I wanted to be closer to Kayla, even if she was pissed at me.
The bus dropped me off two blocks from Rocky’s Bar and Grill, and since it was still raining, I found an overhang from a building a good distance away to stand under. Craning my neck, I searched for her through the windows. When I finally spotted her, my guilt came back with a vengeance.
She was putting on a brave face for everyone, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes.
And it was my fault. Somehow, I’d make it up to her.
“Good place to stay dry,” a gravelly voice said next to me.
A man in ragged clothing sat on the concrete sidewalk and leaned back against the building like he did it all the time.
Then I realized, he probably did do it all the time.
Just like Kayla had described him, his graying hair and beard were untrimmed. His jeans had holes in the knees, and the faded red flannel shirt was missing several buttons.
“Paul?” I asked.
His face snapped up to mine, surprised. “Yeah.”
“My girlfriend works at Rocky’s. She’s talked about you before,” I explained, tipping my head toward the restaurant. Kayla was standing by a booth, concentration on her face as she wrote an order on her notepad.
Paul let out a relieved sigh. “I was hoping she’d be there tonight. Little lady always brings me something to eat after she’s done.”
Seeing him sitting on that concrete, damp from the rain, hit a little too close to home. Because of last night, I knew exactly what that felt like. I’d only had to endure it for eight hours, but this was how Paul lived every day.
That was unacceptable.
“I tell you what…” I grabbed my wallet and got out two twenties. “Why don’t you go in there and have dinner on me? Kayla had a rough day, and I bet seeing you would cheer her up a bit.”
Standing, his hand trembled as he accepted the money. “Thank you. Not sure if they’ll kick me out, but I can try.”
“She wouldn’t let them do that,” I said, certain. “Besides, you’re a paying customer.”
With a grateful nod, he ambled down the street and went inside. When Kayla saw him sitting at a small table along the wall, her face lit up.
I was glad that in some small way, I’d made her night better. She’d started to think of Paul as a friend, and she really needed a friend right now.
More than anything, I wanted to be that person for her. Wanted to go in there and hug her until the world felt right again. But there was a good chance seeing me would only make her more upset, and she had a job to do.
When the urge to hold her in my arms became too much, I slowly headed back to the bus stop, planning to go to my apartment and count down the minutes until she’d be off work.
By the time I got home, the rain had let up a little and I was looking forward to changing into dry clothes and resting my leg.
But as soon as I turned my key in the door and stepped inside, I could tell something was wrong.
Pierre didn’t greet me like he normally did. I was used to the sound of his claws clacking on the kitchen floor as he eagerly ran to the door.
There was an eerie stillness in the air. An emptiness. The deafening quiet and darkness made my hair stand on end.
Flipping on the kitchen light, I called out, “Pierre, ici.” Come. “Ici!”
Nothing.
I rushed down the hall to the bedroom, but he wasn’t there. I checked the bathroom, then came back to the living room.
In my state of alarm and confusion, I even found myself looking in places I knew he wouldn’t be. In the coat closet. Under the kitchen table. Behind the couch.
Turning in a full circle, I grabbed at my wet hair as my heart raced.
That was when I noticed the back door was slightly ajar and the plastic around the lock was cracked. The sliding glass panel was only open an inch, but the realization hit me like a ton of bricks.
Someone had broken in. Whether they’d taken Pierre or simply let him get out, I wasn’t sure.
Throwing the back door open, I stumbled on to the patio and yelled for him over and over again.
He wouldn’t have run away. He wouldn’t have left me, but he wasn’t in the backyard and the gate was shut.
Panic overwhelmed me as I tried to think of what to do. I couldn’t lose him; not because he was a service dog, but because he was my friend. We needed each other.
Suddenly, my phone rang in my pocket and I answered it without looking at the caller.
“Hello?”
“Ezra. It’s Jeff.” His tone was urgent. “I’m outside at the frat house. You need to get here now, bro.”
I didn’t have time for any more of their shit. “There’s nothing you can say to make me come back. I’m sorry. And right now I can’t deal with their drama.”
“No, you don’t understand. They have your dog.”
My veins turned to ice. “What the fuck did you just say?”
“Aaron lost the onion challenge, so they dared him to take your dog. They have him here and they’re trying to give him beer. I’m not an animal expert, but that shit isn’t cool.”
“Motherfuckers.” I was already taking off through the backyard, out the gate, and making a shortcut through the field. Rain pelted my arms and face, but I barely felt the cold drops.
“He’s refusing to drink it,” Jeff reassured me. “I know he’s a smart dog, but he’s not doing anything they tell him to. He won’t even sit.”
“That’s because they’re speaking the wrong language,” I gritted out.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just don’t let them hurt him.”
“I won’t. You’ve got my promise on that. Don’t worry, okay?” Jeff’s voice seemed so far away as anger flooded my system. “Just get here as soon as you can.”
I hung up and ran. I ran hard, ignoring the pain as I forced my legs to go faster than they’d ever gone before.