Covert Identity (9 page)

A dog didn't get to choose.

I've been doing this for too long.

When he started working undercover in a past that seemed as distant as a world without cellphones, he imagined it to be like on TV. That version of him was long gone, and reality held toothless strippers, drug addicts, and deals in dilapidated trailer parks.

The puppy shrieked, as if it were aware of its impending doom.

If he didn't say something, do
something,
his soul might wither to a state where not even Sharon could bring it back, and then he would die.

"That's enough. Cut it out." His voice made the puppy fall quiet.

Rusty laughed. "What's wrong, Shaw? Are you soft? It's just a dog. Bait dog."

There's no such thing as just a dog.

The other man tossed the puppy to the side. It hit the wall and must have died instantly. He bent down to pick up the next. It was a girl, and she wagged her tiny tail.

Reasoning wouldn't do any good. The only language understood in these parts was force.

Jimmy clenched his jaw and tapped a finger on Rusty's shoulder. When the other man straightened up and turned around, Jimmy planted his fist on Rusty's jaw.

No matter how this ended it was going to hurt, probably for a long time.

––––––––

S
haron was used to Jimmy coming and going at times that seemed peculiar to her, and she wasn't too surprised when the texted, "Bad day will B L8."

She could almost see him squint at the phone, fumbling with the tiny buttons. She
was
surprised he cared enough to keep her safe from worry. Most men she'd known appeared much more stable and reliable than he on the surface, and completely missed the important details.

By now, she was pretty good at pretending she wasn't waiting. Good enough to almost fool herself. Cooking for one seemed abhorrent, so she watched a movie on TV and had popcorn for dinner. When it was almost midnight, she thought he wouldn't show up at all. Going to bed alone depressed her, so she brought a throw and curled up on the sofa for a nap. That way she could pretend she fell asleep in front of the TV.

A merry tune from her phone blended with her dreams. Once she opened her eyes and reached for it, holding it seemed nearly impossible. It wasn't
really
squirming to get away, it was just the vibration effect in her numb fingers, but only a thin veil of reality covered her dream world.

"Hello?"

"Hey babe... It's me. I'm, uh, drunk. Can you pick me up?"

This is getting old, it's the kind of call teenage parents would get. Oh well, at least he called instead of wandering off or trying to drive himself. It could be worse.

"Sure. Where are you?"

Sleep didn't want to leave her eyes, regardless of how much she rubbed them. She pulled on a jacket and shuffled out to the car.

On the bright side, the bar wasn't all that far away.

The Beer Monster. I've passed this place a million times and never even thought of going in. It looks like a place where a girl would get raped and killed. Or the other way around, I don't think they care about the order.

Jimmy's bike stood parked to the side, looking lonely. He sat on the curb, resting his head on his arms, and didn't move when she pulled up in front of him.

Maybe he just called because the place closed.

A few long seconds ticked by, and he made no sign of getting up.

Great.

The sensible part of her mind claimed it was getting time to examine her choices in life, but the rest of her didn't want to. She sighed and slammed the gear in park. He didn't move when she jumped down from the car, or look up when she stood right in front of him.

Crossing her arms over her chest she exhaled. She should
try
not to sound too irritated, alienating him would be bad, but it was in the middle of the night.

"I'm here."

He looked up slowly, and she gasped. Even in the dim light, it was impossible to not to see a long cut under his left eye and bruises all over his face.

"Have you been in a fight?" Stating the obvious was one of her big talents.

"Yeah. Shitty day."

He grimaced when he rose up, and she reached out to help. He didn't seem all that drunk; he actually didn't seem drunk at all, more in pain. Maybe it had been easier to say that than tell the truth, and he knew she'd come for him.

"Did you win?"

He smiled at her question. "It doesn't matter."

Only now did she notice a thin red leash attached to his belt. Her eyes followed it down to the ground. A cute brown and white puppy sat on the ground behind him, peeking up with big brown eyes. The leash looked brand new, and so did the collar.

"That's a dog."

How observant. She was really a genius with taking in her surroundings and speaking in complete sentences.

Jimmy fumbled out a can of dog food from a pocket.

"They were gonna use her for a bait dog, but she's so fucking cute. The bike scares the bejeezes out of her. I got her water inside, but she'll need more."

What's a bait dog? I probably don't want to know.

"You stole a dog and got into a fight over it."

"Yeah." He sent her a goofy glance, peeking out under his hair. It always seemed just long enough to fall into his eyes. "Can we keep her? I mean, I can take her to the pound, but they'll just kill her."

He said we.

The idea made her feel warm inside. They would have something together, care for a living being together. He stepped up for an innocent life in need. It confirmed what she already thought of him: in spite of the company he chose, he was a nice guy.

"Of course we'll keep her."

He bent down to lift the dog up, and held a hand against his chest. For a moment she thought he would topple over, so she grabbed the back of his jacket.

"I'm not
that
drunk. Bastard came at me with a tire iron. I think he broke a rib."

They made their way the few steps to the truck. When he opened the door, the bright compartment light shining on his face made her gasp.

"I guess you won the fight since you have the dog, but I'm sure glad I wasn't around to see it. Do you need to see a doctor?"

"Don't worry."

He cursed under his breath when he climbed into the truck. How on Earth had he managed both the bike and the dog? She wanted to ask if the bike would be okay, but it was a moot point. They couldn't bring it.

The dog on his lap yawned. Jimmy ran a hand over her and was rewarded with a lick from the small, pink tongue.

Leaning his head back, he mumbled, "She'll need a name."

"Tiffy. Because she'll be spoiled and get all sorts of bling from Tiffany's."

She expected him to laugh and say she was silly, but he just nodded. "Tiffy it is."

Now she's really ours. We named it, and once you name something, you have to keep it.

Only one problem. "I don't know anything about dogs."

He smiled, and it looked so painful with the split lip that she averted her eyes and looked at the puppy instead.

"I'll teach you, and we can go shop for her tomorrow. She needs to go out often. After she sleeps, after she eats, after she plays... Tell her she's good if she does something outside. If she has an accident, carry her outside and praise her when she does it right. Feed her, play with her, love her..."

He was drifting off, and she closed the door quietly. Neither the man nor the dog stirred as she drove home.

*****

S
haron woke from a soft whimpering. The little dog stood up against the bed and wagged her tail. "What's wrong, baby? Do you need to go out?"

Taking the puppy out didn't stop the whimpering, or the tiny paws scratching at the side of the bed. "You're a cute little thing."

She lifted Tiffy up and the puppy curled up on her pillow. "Don't tell your daddy I let you sleep in bed."

The puppy licked her hand, and she interpreted it as agreement.

You're ours. He fought for you, to bring you home.

She whispered, "I love you, Tiffy. And, I love your dad."

The next time she woke, Jimmy sat on the edge of the bed. He held his chest and muttered, "Fuck."

Good thing they didn't have human children. She could imagine their language on the first day of school.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing. I need to take the dog out. Go back to sleep."

For a moment, the thought of laying back down and closing her eyes was almost impossible to resist.

It wouldn't be right.

"I'll take her. Don't worry about it."

"Thanks."

He sat in the exact same spot when she returned.

"How are you doing?"

"Awesome. Hungover and hit by a train."

She brought him some aspirin, and a small groan escaped him when he lay back down.

Not good. He normally laughed injuries off. Healthcare wasn't her thing, but this might be one of those times when a nurse or a doctor would be useful.

"Are you sure you don't need a doctor?"

"They don't do anything about ribs anyway. I just need to man up."

She lifted the dog up to him and his eyes lit up. He waved his fingers. "Come here, Tiffy."

"Do you think she knows her name already?"

"Maybe. They're much smarter than people think." He patted the dog. "You got a pen? We need to make a shopping list for her."

Tiffy curled up with her head resting on him, and Sharon rummaged around in the nightstand. "I'm ready."

"She needs to see a vet as soon as possible, she needs vaccines. If you take her, hold her and don't let her touch anything. She hasn't had any shots, and we don't want her to get parvo or some shit like that."

Parvo? Sounds scary.

She nodded, reluctant to reveal her ignorance.

"Pet store... We should get her a crate, chewies, some toys, and some good puppy food."

"What does she need a crate for?"

He turned his head towards her.

"You've never had a dog, have you?"

"Sure I have... No. I had a goldfish as a kid, but it didn't make it."

His mouth twitched, but he refrained from laughing.

"Well, puppies do stuff. They're exploring and learning and their teeth itch."

Tiffy nibbled his finger, as if to prove the point.

"If she gets used to a crate, we can leave her home alone without worrying she might kill herself from chewing on a cable or getting into something that's toxic to dogs."

Seen from that point of view, her home was a potential death trap. There were cords and other things that shouldn't be chewed everywhere.

Jimmy sure didn't look in shape to leave bed.

She offered, "I can go to the pet store, and call a vet."

He moved a little and grimaced.

"Thanks, babe. Don't leave her in the car, it gets too hot. Carry her in the store. Ugh, I've gotta pick up the bike and go to the club."

"You're going
back
?"

"I have to. After the stunt I pulled yesterday, they'll kill me if I don't."

This has to have something to do with testosterone. The strongest one will win, or some crap like that.

She wanted to snuggle up to him just like Tiffy did and seek comfort in hiding from the strange and crazy world, but she was afraid to even touch him. Even the softest caress would cause more pain. Instead, she fluffed the pillows behind her back and reached for the dog.

"How do you know so much about puppies?"

"My mom... She loved animals more than people. We had dogs, cats, birds, raccoons, you name it." He sounded distant.

It was the first time he said
anything
about his family. She wanted to encourage him.

"It sounds nice. We didn't have any animals when I grew up, except the fish that died."

"Our house was a zoo. Anything hurt or sick, she'd take it in. My little brother did a lot of work on the dogs. We both did."

He had a brother? Interesting.

His tone of voice said much more than the words themselves; this brother wasn't in his life anymore.

"What happened to him?"

Jimmy pulled a hand over his face.

"What didn't happen? He moved to the city, got in a gang, started doing drugs, and died."

Was that why he joined? Revenge? A rescue mission? Or, had little brother followed
him
?

"Babe, would you get me some coffee?"

The conversation was clearly over and coffee was a good idea. She needed to study up on dogs too, so she didn't seem like such an idiot.

She brought her laptop to the kitchen table so she could Google and read about puppies, and found horrifying images of bait dogs.

Jimmy was getting ready to leave and paused to look over her shoulder.

"Nice, isn't it."

"Oh my God, this is horrible. It's the worst thing I've seen in my life."

Her eyes sought out their puppy playing on the rug.
Their
puppy, whom he bravely liberated and saved from living hell. Tears wanted to break free from her eyes.

"Thank you. Thank you for saving her."

He seemed a little embarrassed and rumbled, "No problem."

"No, you just got beat half to death for her."

He brushed his fingers over her cheek. "For you, I'll make it stop."

"How?" The phone interrupted her. "Oooh, it's Mona, wait until I tell her we got a dog."

"As long as she doesn't shoot me. I'm not up for that today."

She grinned. "No, we're over that."

When Sharon told her the news, Mona said, "I thought you were afraid of dogs."

"Yeah, but this one is so small, and he went through so much to save her. Besides, Tiffy isn't just any dog, she's
our
dog."

Her friend laughed. "Right. What kind is it?"

"I don't know. A puppy. Brown and white. She smiles."

Jimmy walked through the room, grimacing as he pulled on his jacket. "She's an American Pitbull Terrier."

Mona must have heard him. "They're great dogs."

––––––––

T
he city roads had never been bumpier, and Jimmy clenched his jaw when pain bloomed through his chest. It wasn't Sharon's fault, but he still wanted to snap at her to take it easy.