The Perfect Fit

I bring the SUV to a stop outside the club where four of our bouncers are shuffling impatiently, wilting in the hot July sun. I roll my window down and signal them to jump in. They file into the back seats and exclaim their gratitude for the AC pumping through the vents. While Xander and I are more than capable of handling this ourselves, it doesn’t hurt to have a little extra muscle in situations like these. They’re more than happy to tag along, knowing they’ll be well compensated for their time.

A half hour later, we arrive at the first of four puppy farms that Lily highlighted in her article. The other three are being paid a similar visit right now, but this is the biggest and most lucrative, which is why we’re handling it ourselves.

The guy sitting in the small booth outside the steel gate adjusts his Celtics cap and scratches his thick red beard. “Can I help you?”

“We’ve come for some puppies.” Xander grins.

The guard hesitates.

“Let us the fuck in,” I say with a snarl.

He leans forward and eyes the men in the backseat, then looks back at me. “I can’t.”

Removing my seatbelt and grabbing his head in one fluid motion, I smash his face into the small console in the booth. “How about now?” Blood gushing from his nose, he fumbles with a series of buttons. A few seconds later, the gates open, and I tap the side of his face. “Good boy.”

It doesn’t take long to find the owner cowering in a corner. The guard must have called ahead. “I own these premises now, and this place is no longer in business,” I tell him. When he just gapes at me, I snarl. “Do you understand me?”

He nods furiously. I motion for the bouncers to surround him, wishing I could have them beat the living shit out of him. But we don’t want the cops sniffing around, so I let him go with nothing more than a slap to the head.

Before we left the apartment, I placed a call to the local shelter. We’re longtime patrons of the charity that runs it, and Carly, the CEO, was more than happy to accept all the dogs we’re relocating today. The puppies will find new homes quickly. The older ones are unlikely to be adopted, but they’ll have a good life with Carly and her team, and our recent donation will fund the facility expansion necessary to accommodate today’s influx and then some.

This is what Lily was doing all along. I swallow a thick knot of regret that hasn’t left me since we discovered the severity of our fuckup. The one that bubbles into my throat every time I think about her. Every time I picture her face drenched with rain and tears.

My knees buckle, and I place my hand on the wall beside me to hold myself steady.

“Hey, Zeke. Look at this guy.” Xander walks toward me with a big goofy grin on his face and an equally goofy slobbering ball of dark fur in his arms.

“No. Not happening.” I shake my head. “We’re not getting a fucking puppy, Fitch. Put it back.”

“Aw, but he’s so cute,” he says, and the damn thing licks his nose. “Anyway, he’s not for me. Meet Snowflake.” The pup yawns and lets out a sound that can only be compared to a Wookie howl as Xander waves his paw at me.

My lip twitches—even I have to admit the stupid dog is adorable—but I roll my eyes. “You think a dog is going to fix what we did?”

“Not entirely.” His grin is replaced with a look of anguish. If I were a better man, I would have let him keep his fantasy a little longer, but nobody would accuse me of being a good man. Besides, the hope he found in this shithole would have been crushed eventually, and I’m of the belief that staying in reality hurts a whole lot fucking less than being bitch-slapped by it. Loving and losing Lily taught me that. She took the tiny bit of goodness and optimism I had with her. “But it’s a start, right?” Somehow, despite his own heartache, Xander still has both qualities in abundance.

Exasperated, I shake my head. “Just go make sure everything’s taken care of back there so we can get the fuck out of here.”

He clutches the puppy tighter and mutters “Fine,” before skulking off like a sullen teenager. I rub my right temple and look around the room. If only Lily had told us what she was working on. If we’d just fucking asked her. Goddamn it, we should have listened to Xander. He was the only one willing to believe the best of her. That infuriating goodness and optimism is what allowed him to see the fucking truth of her—she’s the best person the three of us have ever known, and we ruined ourselves when we ruined things with her.

I thought the cages in this room were empty, but a movement in the far corner catches my eye. Not wanting to spook whatever is in there, I approach slowly and crouch down in front of the steel frame. A big black Rottweiler glances up at me, her massive body filling the small space. She’s lying on her side and barely acknowledges my presence, but the defeated look in her eyes kills me. She looks like she’s just waiting for death to come.

“I know that feeling, girl,” I say quietly. Her ears twitch, but she doesn’t move. The door creaks when I carefully open the door, but the dog still doesn’t move. I reach inside and lightly run my fingertip across the top of her head. When she offers no resistance, I scratch behind her ear and a deep sigh leaves her body. Then she tilts her head, pushing it against my hand, and I chuckle. “You like that, huh?”

“She’s probably had at least fifty puppies in this place,” Xander says as he crouches beside me. I’m pleased to see that he’s no longer holding the furball. The Rottweiler sits up and gives a soft woof. “They take them away from their moms too early, you know. And the mamas fret for their babies.”

Her soulful brown eyes glisten like she understands what we’re saying. “Is that true, girl? Do you miss your family?”

She cocks her head to the side, and Xander chuckles. “She likes you.”

I tilt my head too, studying her as she watches us both. People have way too much fucking power over animals. “You want to come home with us?” She gives me a full bark this time.

Grinning, Xander nudges my arm. “What are we gonna call her?”

“She kinda looks like a Stella to me.”

“Stella?” He snorts a laugh, but she barks again and her stumpy tail wags once.

I give Xander a smug look. “Well, she likes it.”

Stella steps out of the crate and turns so she’s leaning against both of us. And just like that, we have ourselves a dog.