Off Chance (7 page)

The dog food has been purchased and the ride to my apartment was done in absolute silence. After parking in my assigned spot, I walk with Rowan and Capone up the three flights of stairs to my humble abode. I’ve got my duffel bag slung over one shoulder and I’m carrying a thirty-pound bag of dog food over the other. Rowan has her hand lightly on Capone’s collar but I don’t think she’s really afraid he’ll bolt off.

When I came out of the store carrying the huge bag of dog food, she didn’t say anything, just raised her eyebrows at me. The fact that I bought such a huge bag of food sends a clear message as well... she’s welcome to stay a few days longer if she needs to. At least I’m guessing that’s what my subconscious is telling her.

When we reach my door, I look down at her. “Can you grab my keys? They’re in my front right pocket.”

The minute I ask the question, I’m suddenly aware that could be seen as a very lewd and inappropriate request. But Rowan only says a quick, “Yup” and then her hand is disappearing into my pants. She makes quick work of grabbing my keys—which are luckily resting in the part of my pocket that lays against the outer part of my thigh—and holds them up to me.

“It’s the silver one on the end. It opens the deadbolt and the door lock.”

Rowan makes quick work of the locks and opens the door, stepping back so I can walk in first. Throwing my duffel to the floor, I walk into the kitchen and set the dog food down. I hear the front door close and the locks re-engage, and then Rowan walks in behind me with Capone on her heels.

“Do you mind if I feed him and give him some water?”

“Not at all.”

Reaching into a cupboard, I pull out two large, stainless-steel bowls. I hand her one and I take the other to the sink to fill up. I can hear Rowan ripping into the dog food and scooping some into the bowl.

Capone is in doggie heaven when we set both of the bowls down. Poor pup goes immediately for the water, and I’m not surprised with him running around outside all day. After he has his fill, he lifts that big, shaggy head and water spills out from the sides of his mouth all over my floor. Grimacing inside, I resist the urge to get a towel and mop it up. I don’t want to do anything that makes Rowan feel uncomfortable to be here, and if I have to learn to live with some dog slobber, then I’ll do it.

Capone turns to the food and starts chomping away. We both just watch him silently for a few minutes. He’s a clear multitasker because he steadily keeps his face buried in the food, all the while wagging his tail to show his happiness.

When I look at Rowan, she’s watching him with a look of worry on her face.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

She doesn’t respond at first and then she slowly drags her gaze away from the dog, but by the time her eyes meet mine, the worry is gone. “Nothing. I’m good. Just happy to have him back.”

She’s lying to me... I know it. She’s very smooth at it and makes her transition easily, but I can still see the lie in her eyes.

“Tell you what... let’s discuss a game plan for the night. I suggest we order a pizza to be delivered. I’m sure you’d like a nice shower, since you smell like the inside of a fireplace, and I’ll give you some of my clothes to wear for the night. Then we’ll discuss your next move.”

She opens her mouth as if she’s going to argue with me about discussing her next move, but then just as quickly shuts it. I’m clever enough to know that she’s not capitulating, just putting off having to engage in conversation with me.

“I’ll take you up on that,” she says. “But I need to walk Capone after he’s done eating.”

“I’ll handle that,” I tell her. “Come on back to my room... let me grab you some clothes and you can get in the shower.”

She follows me back down the short hall to my bedroom. Opening the door, I sigh inwardly at the mess. I’ve got dirty clothes strewn all over the floor and old beer bottles on the nightstand. At least I don’t keep dirty dishes back here.

Reaching into my dresser drawer, I pull out a t-shirt and a pair of workout shorts that have a drawstring that she can use to keep them up around her tiny waist. She takes them and I point across the hall. “Bathroom is right there. Clean towels are under the sink.”

She starts to walk that way but then turns around. “How are you going to walk Capone? You don’t have a leash.”

I think about it a minute and then I’m struck with an idea. Reaching into my top drawer, I pull out a tie. I don’t have many of them but I grab a hideous Donald Duck tie that Renner gave me for Christmas a few years ago.

Holding it up, I show Rowan the tie, hoping I will finally see a smile poke through. It doesn’t come but she does give me what could be considered a caustic smirk.

“That’s resourceful,” she says, her voice only a few degrees warmer than it normally is.

I will not be deterred.

I will not be deterred.

After repeating that silently twice, I give her a huge smile. “I thought so, too. Now, go take a nice, long shower. By the time you get done, I’ll have Capone taken care of and the pizza will be here.”

Rowan’s gray eyes seem to lighten a bit and she opens her mouth as if she’s going to say something. Then she just gives a slight shake of her head and turns away to head into the bathroom.

Walking Capone was pretty easy. I tied the Donald Duck tie to his collar, knotting it twice in case he tried to pull away from me. But he was well behaved and walked by my side the entire time. The only bad thing was I had to pick up his crap, which was the size of a football, and dump it in the nearest pet receptacle. Thank God Rowan had yelled out to me before I left to take a plastic bag just for that momentous event.

The pizza dude is at my apartment door when I get back with Capone. He keeps a worried eye on the big dog as I dig money out of my wallet and hand it to him.

When we step into the apartment, I see Rowan sitting on my couch, running her fingers through her wet hair. She’s swimming in my clothes but she actually looks like she has a little color back in her face. She’ll feel even better after she gets some food and has a good night’s sleep.

She looks up at me, and I’m again struck by the beauty of her gray eyes, particularly with her dark hair hanging in wet chunks around her face.

“I used your razor to shave my legs.”

Her voice is unapologetic about using my razor, but it doesn’t matter. My blood boils with sympathy and anger over the fact she was chained like an animal and roughing up my good razor is hardly worth thinking about.

“No worries,” I tell her with a smile. “Use anything you like.”

She suddenly grins at me wickedly. “In that case, I also used your toothbrush.”

Laughing, I walk into the kitchen. Her first real smile and it came with a devilish and cocky attitude. I’ve not known her long, but I bet I could safely say that is classic Rowan. “Come get some pizza. No telling when you had a good meal last, right?”

Setting the pizza down on my small kitchen table, I turn around and Rowan is right there. She smells like my spicy body wash and, up close, her gray eyes are softer, more liquid. Looking at her now, dressed in my clothes and removed from the horrendous nature of her captivity, she looks different to me.

Beautiful. Angelic. Captivating.

I didn’t notice it before, because I was looking at her strictly through the lenses of my fireman’s glasses. She was a job... a person to save.

Now that I have her safely tucked away from danger, I’m seeing her through the eyes of a man. And this man likes what he’s seeing.

But sadly, I can’t go there. I’m doing this to help Rowan out of a bad situation, because that is what I do... I help people. I don’t bring home beautiful and tragic women so I can get my rocks off.

Tearing my thoughts away from that direction, I open the box. “I got pepperoni. I figured everyone likes pepperoni.”

She leans over the box and inhales deeply. “Oh, my God. I think I could eat that whole pizza. I’m so hungry.”

Reaching into the cupboard, I pull out two plates and hand them to her. While she takes them to the table and sits down, I pull two sodas out of the fridge. Popping the tops off, I walk over and sit down across from her, handing her the drink.

She takes a deep swallow and sighs. “Thanks.”

I point to the box. “Eat up.”

Setting the can down, Rowan reaches in and grabs a slice. She doesn’t even lay it on her plate but brings it to her mouth to take a huge bite. The moan that bubbles up from her throat causes my skin to crawl. It’s not a sexual moan, but rather the sound of someone that hasn’t had food in a while. Anger bolts through me again over what has been done to her.

I just watch her. She gobbles down bite after bite of pizza, polishing the crust off quickly. She reaches for another piece and takes a bite, closing her eyes as she savors the taste. When she opens them back up, she glances my way and stops chewing.

“What?” she asks, her mouth full.

“I’m sorry for what you went through.” It’s all I can think to say, because it’s the only thing I can offer her right now.

Rowan swallows the food in her mouth and sets the remaining slice on her plate. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I’m not asking you to. I just wanted you to know I’m sorry. No one should be treated like that.”

She pins me with a hard stare for what seems like forever. I don’t waver and I don’t look away. I hold her gaze so she knows I’m saying nothing more than I have sympathy for her.

Apparently satisfied I’m not trying to worm information from her, she picks her pizza back up and starts eating again. I use that as my clue to go ahead and start. I pick up a slice and take a bite, wondering what’s going to happen to Rowan tomorrow.

I slowly come awake, pushing the covers down to my waist. It’s hot... unbearably so, and I’m sure that’s what woke me up. Bringing my hand to my face, I wipe at my brow and find it drenched in sweat.

Taking a deep breath through my mouth, I’m confused that the air itself feels hot and dry. My lungs feel compressed and I struggle to take in another breath of air, this time through my nose.

I smell smoke.

It’s getting hotter by the second and then flames erupt from the floor, starting to climb the walls on either side of the bed. I try to yell out... to Flynn... to anyone... but smoke is now overwhelming me and I can’t even make a sound. A hacking cough sneaks out, and I cover my mouth and nose with my hand, trying to filter the air.

Then I hear laughing.

Peering through the smoke, I see Juice standing by the door. He’s leaning against it casually, with his arms crossed over his chest. He just looks at me... and laughs, and laughs, and laughs.

I sit up in bed and reach down to the chain I know is wrapped around my ankle, intent on trying to pull myself free. When I reach down, I’m stunned to find my leg is free and there is no manacle keeping me in this bed.

The smoke is so thick now. I can’t see which way to the door, so I drop to the floor where I know the air quality will be better. Frantically crawling in the direction I believe the exit to be, I can only hope the flames haven’t spread enough to prevent my escape. I don’t even worry about where Juice is. My body is on autopilot and it’s working only to get away from the fire.