Rescue (Emily and Mason) Read online

  The first thing that catches my eye is Chevrolet Camaro painted a nice red, but there’s a weird alien chick on the hood. It’s parked right next to my red Dodge Neon with a few chips on the bumper. Whoever drives that thing must have a weird personality, or they’re very humorous. I slide in behind the wheel of the Neon and shove the key in place, starting it.

  My drive back into town is pretty eventless. I pull up into the driveway of my foster parent’s townhome and see that Jim is already home from work. I glance at the clock on the dash. No wonder Jesse was kicking me out. It’s six thirty in the evening, and I forgot to eat lunch this afternoon.

  I’m covered in hair, and there’s blood still on my jeans, so I head directly up the stairs when I come inside. Jim meets me at the top of them and gives me a hesitant smile when he sees the blood. “Got bit again?” He asks his tone light.

  “Yeah, Baby’s not happy about her new home.” Jim nods in understanding and follows me down the hall, heading into his own room.

  He’s not much of a talker, which I like. It’s not that I hate chatty people; I just like it when two people are comfortable enough to be silent when they’re around each other. Sometimes words are just not necessary. I grab a quick shower to wash out the bite on my leg and manage to get it sufficiently bandaged. This time I won’t need stitches.

  After I’ve dressed in my room, I make my way downstairs to the kitchen and root through the refrigerator for something to make for dinner. Laura will be home in about forty five minutes, and I don’t want her to have to cook for all us after a long shift at the hospital. She’s an amazing woman with a husband who gets so caught up in work he forgets that the two of them have to eat.

  I rummage around until I find a package of chicken in the freezer and chop up some onions for the homemade barbecue sauce. I roast the chicken in the oven for forty minutes with a hint of salt and pepper, and make the sauce as I roast the chicken. There’re some frozen vegetable steamers in the freezer that I pop into the microwave and get started.

  By the time I’m plating, Laura comes through the door with frazzled hair and her make up a little smeared. Jim meets her at the bottom of the stairs, and when he pulls her into a hug I realize that her makeup is smeared because she’s been crying. I want to go over and ask her what happened, but I have a feeling right now she wants to speak her husband and not me.

  Jim leads her up the stairs. I wrap both their dinners up on the plates and shove them into the fridge. The last time Laura came home like this they had lost a baby at the ER. I eat my steaming hot dinner quickly and make my way upstairs after I clean up my dishes. I tiptoe past my foster parent’s bedroom and slide into my own room.

  There, my computer waits for me. I turn it on and lean back in my chair as I prepare to start coding for one of the most complex websites I’ve ever designed. It’ll take me probably a week or more to get this up and running, but it’ll be worth it in the end. I don’t turn on my music tonight, not wanting to upset Laura any further if she happens to hear it. I design in the silence of my room, lost in my own world.

  Mason

  It’s nine thirty at night, and I can’t sleep. I roll over on my mattress and listen to my brother still playing Assassin’s Creed. I bought the brat headphones last Christmas. That was months ago. He has yet to use them while he’s playing his video games. I think it’s a passive aggressive move. Ever since he hit puberty, he’s become a nightmare.

  With a growl, I shove my pillow over my head and try to block out the sounds of him killing the enemy. Just as I’m about to get up and show him what it feels like to be beaten with a crowbar, I hear my Dad knock on his door and tell him to turn it down. The noise quiets down after a momentary verbal argument where my brother loses.

  I’m finally able to get to sleep. The next thing I know the alarm clock is blaring at me, and I have to whack it to turn it off. The sun’s shining in through my window and I feel confused for a few seconds. Then I remember the previous evening and roll my eyes as I roll off the mattress and onto the floor. This morning it’s thirty one pushups instead of thirty. When I’m finished, I shower and check my brother’s bedroom to make sure that he got to school on time today.

  I grab the coffee pot and mumble under my breath as I dump out the grounds and make myself a cup of coffee. If my father could make himself some, it would have been nice if he had left me a cup. I was never really a morning person. The scent of the coffee grains has me smiling as I put enough in for two cups. I’ll need that many to get myself moving.

  The cellphone in my pocket buzzes and I pull it out of my pocket. There’s one word on the screen from Gail, puppies. I sip on my coffee as I text her back congrats and wait for a response. She texts me saying that she will be in with them this afternoon to have them checked out, but it looks like they’re all accounted for and healthy. I’m on my second cup of coffee by the time eleven rolls around, having busied myself with making lunch.

  After I’m finished eating like a pig, I clean up the kitchen and get a load of laundry done. I’ll need to invest in some lint rollers if I’m going to keep working at the animal shelter. My clothes from the previous day are covered in hair.

  As I’m getting into my car, I check my hair twice to make sure that it’s presentable and try for a smile. Emily’s going to be there again today, and for some reason my brain won’t let me forget that. My ride to work is filled with thoughts of how I can engage her in talking again; maybe even ask her out on a lunch date before work. Lunch dates are less intrusive than dinner dates; at least, I’m hoping they are.

  It’s not that I haven’t noticed all the other good looking women who work at the shelter. There are quite a few of them, but Emily’s really dominated my thoughts for the past eighteen hours. I meant what I said the day before. She’s going to have to teach me how she can step into a cage with a biting dog like that and have it calm and collected in under half an hour. Baby isn’t ready for adoption, but if she keeps making progress like yesterday, I’m pretty sure she’ll be ready sooner than everyone thinks.

  I turn down Alien Ant Farm as I pull into the parking lot and roll my windows back up. I park in the same spot and wonder which one of the vehicles in this lot is Emily’s. If I keep thinking like this, I’m going to start sounding like a stalker to my own ears.

  The lot is quiet as I step out of my car into the dappled shade of the trees. I like where this building is located, off a main road but far enough back that the sound of traffic is severely limited. That’s why I can hear the crunch of tires on the driveway leading up to the parking lot. Curious, I glance to my right and notice a small, red car with a pretty rustic blonde behind the wheel.

  Recognizing Emily right away, I stop by the front door and wait for her to get out of her car. She’s struggling with something in her trunk when I begin to walk over to help her out. There’s a huge bag of organic dog biscuits, probably weighing almost as much as her that she’s wrestling with.

  “Here, I’ll get that,” I wait for her to move aside before I reach into her pristine trunk and drag out the bag. I hoist it over my shoulder and hold it with one hand.

  “Thanks,” she tells me quietly as she closes her trunk. I’m wondering why someone as pretty as her is so shy, usually girls like her are like that man-eating alien that I dated months ago. But Emily feels different. She reminds me of some of the animals cowering in their cages at this shelter.

  “The perfume you’re wearing, it’s nice,” I tell her nonchalantly as I open the door for her with my free hand. I see her face blush crimson as she mutters another thanks, and then I hear the mumbled ‘Jesse was right’ under her breath as she tries to walk ahead of me.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Binkley.” We both say at the same time. The gray haired receptionist looks up from her desk and smiles at both of us, her kind eyes all knowing. I can’t help the grin on my face as I follow Emily down the hall to the dog kennel.

  “You can put that over there, I’ll put them into the jars l
ater.” I set the bag down by the cabinets and watch her say good morning to Baby first before she turns around to find me still standing in the doorway of the kennel room.

  “You’re late,” I realize that sounds a little stalker like and try for a sheepish smile. “Gail said you usually get here a little earlier than when they allow volunteers in.” I try to push it off on Gail being observant, but Emily seems to see right through that.

  “I usually am, I had school.” Emily rubs one of her arms absentmindedly, and I figure I’d better get to the clock-in area before I’m too late. I check my cellphone and realize that I have one minute to get to the little machine before I’m considered late.

  “I’ll see you around,” I tell her before I leave. Her cheeks are still rosy as I leave. I meant what I said about the perfume, and I know she wasn’t wearing it yesterday. My chest tightens when I realize that maybe she’s not wearing it because I’m around. Maybe she had a date with a boyfriend tonight. I should ask Gail before I start pursuing Emily any further.

  I might still pursue her even if she did have a boyfriend.

  I meet up with Jesse at the time clock and punch in, using the ancient machine. She gives me a breezy hello before she wanders off to take care of a cat that came in last night with a broken leg. I notice that she has bags under her eyes and wonder if she’s been here all night or if she just had a late night for another reason last night.

  “Hey Jesse,” I call out to her before she can turn the corner, wondering if she knows about Emily’s relationship status. As she turns around with a little grin on her lips, I wonder if I really should be asking her. She’ll definitely go to Emily and tell her what I asked. “You should get some sleep,” I tell her, pointing at her before I turn around on my heel and walking off.

  Gail texts me on my cellphone to tell me to find Melissa, another veterinary assistant who works here on Thursdays. I text her back asking her about the puppies just as I run into a tall, blonde man with broad shoulders. I quickly give him a verbal apology and look at his nametag pinned to a white coat. Mr. Warren, my boss, gives me a wrinkled brow look before he moves on to whatever task he has at hand. He’s probably going to help Jesse with that cat.

  “Mr. Killinger,” he says before he moves along. I’ve never meant the man, but I guess the nametag on my t-shirt would tell him who I am. I watch the man in his late twenties shuffle down the hall in his lab coat with a clipboard in hand, reading as he walks. I’m not sure if he thinks I ran into him or vice versa, apparently we were both distracted.

  Chapter Four

  Emily

  I shouldn’t have worn that perfume to work today. Why did I feel the need to put on the Victoria’s Secret spray that Laura got me for Christmas? I remind myself that it was not for Mason’s benefit, but because I wanted to smell different to Baby today. I want to test her. It’s not something I’ve really read anywhere about dog training or seen on television, but I’m hoping that introducing her to new scents will open up her curious side.

  My cheeks flush again as I remember that Mason actually realized I was late today. It wasn’t because of school; it was because I had an appointment with the psychologist from the foster care system. I have one of those once a month to determine that I’m not a danger to myself; I’m just screwed up from losing my mother in a violent manner.

  I should have told Mason the truth. He wouldn’t want to speak to me then, and my jitters around him would be all over. As I walk out the dog kennel room, I run right into Taylor Warren, the head veterinarian around here. He’s a handsome man with his rugged blonde hair, five o’clock shadow, and gray eyes.

  “Taylor, I’m sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going, and I was just so lost in thought, you’re alright?” He holds me back by the shoulders and smiles down at me with perfect teeth. If I weren’t still in my senior year, I think he’d ask me on a date, but right now I seem to be off limits.

  “Am I alright? I’m fine. A little thing like you could plow into me doing ninety, and I wouldn’t feel a thing. Are you okay?” I’m struck silent by how much I’m blushing today. Taylor sounds genuinely concerned, and I just nod, giving him a quick smile before I turn on my heel to head down the hall towards the feline kennel.

  “Mr. Warren!” I hear Jesse saying breathily, letting out an unnecessary chuckle. If she would just give up on the sexy show, Taylor might ask her on a date. Apparently he doesn’t like fluttery women though. The only problem is Jesse isn’t really a fluttery woman, and I’m sure we’re going to have words later.

  As soon as I step into the cat room I’m assaulted with yowls from end to end. I immediately grab the treat bag from the cupboard and put one in each cage, mostly to keep myself sane and also because these poor guys deserve as many treats as they can get. There’s a woman already on the other side of the first row of cages, pulling Cream sickle out of his cage.

  “Oh, you have such soft fur!” She exclaims, petting him enthusiastically. It’s visiting hours, but people usually aren’t in to look at the cats until after five, after work hours.

  “He’s a love, but to keep that soft fur he needs brushed daily. Are you home a lot?” I’m a volunteer; I shouldn’t be asking personal questions like that. But if she doesn’t have the time to brush Cream sickle and give him the attention he really deserves, I don’t want him going home with this woman.

  “I’m a columnist for an online newspaper, I’m home often. Believe me; I know what it’s like having a long haired animal.” She smiles at me warmly, and I feel comforted by the way she’s open about herself to me. “I have two Shelties at home, they need brushed daily.”

  Cream sickle rubs on her chin purring madly. If the cat likes her, how can I argue? I wonder idly who put him out into the adoption area, but I assume it’s because there are more cats in from last night in the acclimation rooms. I leave the woman to walk around viewing the other cats while she’s holding Cream sickle, her mind made up about him already. She ends up choosing two more to take home with her, stating that she just can’t decide.

  I take her up front quickly to the receptionist so that she can fill out the paperwork and make my way back to the rooms to get the other cats cleaned up. Within fifteen minutes, the woman is walking back with three carriers she purchased from our little store at the front and a broad smile on her face. Jesse comes in with her to help get everyone into their carriers.

  After my goodbyes to the three lucky cats that get to find a forever home today, I finally get to scooping out litter boxes. Jesse comes back into the room after the woman has left with her three new friends and leans against the doorframe with her arms crossed. The door is closed behind her.

  “Did Taylor ask you on a date yet?” I ask her, knowing that’s exactly why she’s here.

  “No, you?” She sounds peeved about the entire debacle this morning and with a resigned sigh I turn around to look her in the eyes.

  “Of course he hasn’t asked me on a date, I’m seventeen, Jesse. Besides, I don’t think I’d like to date him.” I don’t give her a reason why. The truth is, Taylor Warren is kind of my type. It’s just that I’m not in the dating mood right now.

  “Why not? He’s hot, funny, sexy, smart, and he works with animals. Who wouldn’t want to date that?” She seems lost in her own reverie about Taylor, and I roll my eyes as I continue to scoop out the boxes, idly throwing the waste into a plastic bag. I get through two more cages before she finally pumps me for an actual response. “Well?” She asks, her eyebrows raised.

  “Well what?” I ask her innocently, wishing that she would go away. She’s the closest person I have to a friend here and I don’t want to ruin the comradery, but she’s starting to annoy me with personal questions.

  “Why don’t you want to date Taylor? He’s obviously interested, and I’m sure as soon as you turn eighteen he’s going to ask you on a date. So what’s wrong with him?” She pushes off the doorframe and grabs some cans of cat food, dumping them into dishes so she looks like she’s
actually doing something in here other than trying to pry into my personal life.

  “It’s not him,” I mumble, shoving more cat waste into a clean bag. Jesse stops popping open cans, and when I look at her she has a little grin on her lips.

  “Oh, so it’s the new eye candy walking around?” My mouth goes dry, and I feel my face flush, but I square my shoulders and look her in the eyes.

  “No, it’s me.” As soon as the words are out I go back to my business and she grows silent, as if in contemplation. I’m not going to elaborate on that statement, and she seems to understand. Jesse finishes up feeding the cats and just before she leaves the room she puts a hand on my shoulder, as if in silent comfort. Then she’s gone.

  I slam the bags into a larger waste bin a little too harshly, pop the lid back on, and decide that getting the cats out in an angry state is not going to do them any good. So I go to the small animal room and clean up the two in there, getting Bandit out and playing with him for about an hour. By the time I’m done playing with him, I feel a lot better about the fact that I almost revealed to Jesse that my mother passed away and that I’m broken.

  Bandit doesn’t want to go back into his cage, but he seems to understand that it’s time anyway and grumps in his hammock as I wash up. I spot a lint roller that must have been left out by one of the techs and almost squeal in delight as I roll myself off, feeling much cleaner and nicer looking. It won’t last when I get into the dog kennels, but for the short distance there I’ll feel more human.

  Taylor passes me in the hall and smiles at me, nodding. I try to determine whether it’s a flirtatious smile or just being friendly, but I was never good at that even before my mother died. This afternoon Baby is sitting at the front of her pen rather than at the back. Her ears perk as I come in the door. I make sure to clean up everyone else before I get to her pen, that way I can give her as much attention as possible before I leave.