14. Wyatt

Our first stop was at a pet store near Anthony’s house. Neither of us liked Lily riding untethered in the car, and her seat belt had been among the items stolen by the cops. A few bucks later, she was safely clipped into the backseat of Anthony’s Land Rover.

“Okay.” I settled into the passenger seat. “Now I can breathe.”

Anthony glanced at her in the rearview. “Yeah, she’ll be fine back there.” He turned to me. “Are you good sitting separately from her, though?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I pulled on my own seat belt. “She’s still close by, and she can alert on me if she needs to.”

He nodded. “All right. If you prefer to sit back there with her, I won’t be offended.”

“Nah, I’ll be okay. Thanks, though.”

We exchanged smiles, and he backed out of the parking space.

Our next stop was the vet clinic. Dr. Green had wanted to do a follow-up on Lily after she’d been on the antibiotics for her skin infection. To my great relief, the infection had completely cleared up. Her skin looked great, and especially with a Doberman’s short fur, the small hairless patch would be gone in no time.

“Finish up the oral antibiotics,” the vet told me, “and keep the ointment in case she gets any other irritated areas. It looks great, though.” She smiled. “She’s in perfect health.”

That was a relief. One of my biggest fears out there had been Lily getting sick. Or getting hurt and then getting sick. That she’d only managed to get a mild skin infection, which had now cleared up, took a huge load off my mind. At least now I knew what to watch for, and I had some ointment in case it happened again.

I managed to pay for the visit with my account; I suspected Dr. Green was giving me a discount, but she didn’t draw any attention to it, which I appreciated. She couldn’t give away her services, but I was grateful that she seemed compassionate about my situation. My pride could just shut up and deal with it.

After we’d left the clinic, it was time for our shopping trip. While we’d eaten breakfast, Anthony and I had made a list of the things Lily and I had lost, and I’d explained the things I was most concerned about replacing. A tent, blankets, and clothing, mostly. Anthony said he knew of an outdoorsy store that would probably have almost everything, so we headed out that way.

I just hadn’t realized he meant that outdoorsy store.

I started to catch a clue when we headed into Redmond, which was swanky and expensive like a lot of the cities in this area. None of the glass skyscrapers of Bellevue or the massive houses of Medina (at least not in town), but this was the land of Microsoft and the dotcoms. Even through the dotcom bust and various recessions, money had continued to flow here, especially the old Microsoft and Boeing money from the 1980s and 1990s.

And right in the heart of one of the shopping centers was a three-story building that was clearly going for the artfully rustic aesthetic that was so popular around here: rust-colored walls, irregular lines at odd angles, enormous windows. At one end, encased in glass, was an indoor climbing wall that went all the way to the third floor.

Gazing up at the store as Anthony pulled into a parking space, I said, “Are you sure about this place? They’re expensive as hell.”

“They also have the gear that’ll actually last.” He shut off the engine. “I’d rather spend a little extra and know it won’t fall apart on you.”

I chewed my lip. I didn’t want him spending a ton of money on me, but he had a point. This was the kind of bougie place that had earned the right to sell equipment for those prices. They’d even outfitted a number of Everest and K2 expeditions—including one that had made the news a couple of years ago because a group survived thanks in large part to their gear—so this place had the good shit.

Pride be damned, I couldn’t afford to insist that we go someplace cheaper. Not when we were buying things to keep me and my dog alive through the winter.

So I nodded and got out. I let Lily out of the back, and the three of us headed inside.

In a place this big, I expected to be overwhelmed by noise and people. Especially with holiday decorations everywhere, I braced for the chaos of Christmas shopping.

But it was a Wednesday afternoon and Black Friday hadn’t yet kicked off the holiday shopping season, so the place was almost deserted. A handful of people wandered the aisles, but that was it. As I took in the almost serene atmosphere, I realized most people were either at work right now, traveling for Thanksgiving, or making last-minute runs for holiday food, none of which landed them in this place. Perfect.

“I thought it would be more crowded,” I said.

“Not on a weekday.” Anthony grabbed a shopping cart. “I usually come here in the morning if I can help it. It’s a ghost town.”

“Oh yeah?” I glanced at him as we followed the signs toward the camping gear. “You come here a lot?” My teeth snapped shut. God, that sounded like a fucking pickup line!

He didn’t seem to notice, though, and shrugged. “I snowboard, and I hike and bike a lot during the off season, so I’m either here or at one of the bike shops.”

“Really? So, like, street biking? Mountain biking?”

“All of the above.” He chuckled and pulled up his sleeve, revealing a silvery scar on his forearm. “I think my coach would prefer I didn’t do so much of the offroad shit, but…”

“Ouch. How’d you manage that?”

“They do these rides out in the mountains during the summer.” He tugged his sleeve back into place and slid his hands into his pockets. “You take the ski lift up, then ride down. They’re seriously fun, but one year I hit a bump, and… Well…”

I shuddered. “That sounds painful. Especially since going downhill usually means going fast, right?”

“Well, yeah.” He shot me a toothy grin. “That’s the whole point.”

“Okay, I get that, but…” I tapped my arm in the same spot as his scar. “It hurts more when you crash, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” he admitted. “So I just try not to crash.”

“Uh-huh. And how does that work out for you?”

“Pretty good most of the time.”

I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Is that a hockey player thing? Or a you thing?”

Anthony chuckled. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you play a high-speed sport that involves getting slammed into the wall every five seconds, and—”

“I beg your pardon.” He sniffed with mock indignance. “I sometimes slam them into the wall, thank you very much.”

“Uh-huh. Exactly my point. So you play a crazy ass sport, then during the off season, you go hurtling down a mountain on a bike and just go ‘meh’ when you rip your arm open.”

He pursed his lips, then shrugged. “Okay, yeah, that sounds like me.”

“Right. So is that just you? Or is it hockey players in general?”

He rocked his head back and forth. “Little from column A, little from column B.”

“That’s what I thought.” I laughed again. “I can’t really judge—half the reason I joined the Army was that I was an adrenaline junkie.” I paused. “Well, okay, that was probably the whole reason, technically.”

Anthony eyed me as we slowed to a stop beside some floor model tents. “Technically?”

“Let’s just say I spent more of high school doing stupid dangerous shit than I did studying, so by the time I needed to nail down a career path, my grades didn’t leave a lot of options.”

“Ah.” He nodded sharply. “Gotcha. I probably would’ve been in the same boat, but I had to keep my grades up to play hockey.”

“Parents’ rules?”

“And coaches’. Plus one of the pathways to the League is through college, and there was no guarantee I’d get any kind of scholarship. So I busted my ass even though I wasn’t that great at school.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t great at it either,” I said. “I mean, I could hold my own when I put in the effort, but there were definitely some subjects that were not my strong point.”

“Such as?”

I rolled my eyes. “Ugh. Fucking math.”

Anthony laughed and offered up his fist. “Same, my friend. Fuck math.”

Chuckling, I bumped my fist against his. “I think that’s what put me off some of the sciences, too. They sounded interesting, but…” I made a face. “Too much math.”

“Seriously,” he grumbled. “I stuck with biology all through high school. Chemistry and physics were way too…” He waved a hand. “Mathy.”

I snorted. “Agreed.” I looked over the tents arranged on the floor in front of us. “Okay. I guess this is a good place to start?”

“Sure.” Anthony smiled. “I’m following your lead.”

In the back of my mind, I’d expected this shopping trip to be an exercise in humiliation. Necessary, sure, but excruciating. Like I’d be walking around with my head hung, feeling a little lower every time we put something into the cart.

But to my surprise, shopping with Anthony was pretty damn enjoyable. Yeah, there was still that ball of lead in my stomach because being in my situation fucking sucked, and there was equal parts gratitude and humiliation over Anthony doing this for me. Mostly, though, we were just talking about whatever while we wandered the store.

As we looked at tents, he told me about a camping trip he took as a kid where his older brother was convinced there was a scorpion in their tent. They’d torn everything out of it, shaken out every pack, boot, and sleeping bag, and scoured every inch and seam, until they’d finally found it: the twig that, out of the corner of his brother’s eye, had looked like a scorpion.

In turn, I told him about the time my unit was doing some training out in the field, and before we’d even started putting up our tents, our commander had ordered all of us to roll in this giant mud puddle.

“Why the hell would he do that?” Anthony asked.

“So we’d stop trying to stay dry.” I rolled my eyes. “His philosophy was that you were going to get wet, cold, and uncomfortable sooner or later, and you were better off just getting used to it than wasting all your energy staying dry.”

Anthony’s eyebrows climbed as I spoke. “That… sounds like you just spent all your energy being wet, cold, and uncomfortable.”

“We did.” I huffed sharply. “I think he just got a kick out of being able to tell a bunch of privates to roll in the mud.”

“Nice guy.”

“Not at that rank.”

When we got into comparing the specs of a couple of tents, or figuring out which first aid kit struck the right balance of complete, compact, and lightweight, or when I was trying on some parkas, Anthony offered his opinions but never tried to override me. He really did follow my lead, and he accepted that I knew what I needed. He even reminded me a few times that it was okay to get something I liked.

“As long as both options keep you warm and dry,” he said as I tried on some sturdy, arctic-grade boots, “there’s no reason you can’t go with something that looks good too.”

He made a valid point, and he didn’t say a word when I chose the slightly more expensive boots over the equally well-made but retina-searing green-and-yellow pair.

As much as I hated needing all the things we were getting today, I actually enjoyed spending this time with Anthony. It was a nice balance of irreverent conversation and serious discussions of the pros and cons of particular products. One minute, I was laughing my head off as Anthony flamboyantly modeled a bright pink parka and a pair of neon yellow-framed sunglasses. The next, he was suggesting a different brand of insulated undershirts than the one I’d picked out.

“Those are probably fine.” He plucked another off the hanger. “But this is the same company that makes my base layer. The stuff I wear under my hockey gear.” He inspected the fabric and rubbed it between his fingers. “Feels like the same material, too.” Handing it to me, he added, “It’s seriously comfortable, and it’ll keep you warm or cool, depending on the situation.”

“Really?” I took the shirt from him and touched the smooth material. “So this is what you wear when you play?”

“More or less, yeah.” He gestured at it. “I used to wear a different kind, but it would bunch up and wrinkle in the worst places. That one—I don’t know if it’s how it’s sewn together, the material itself, or what, but it doesn’t ride up or bunch.”

That was testimony enough for me, so I tried on one of the shirts. True to his word, it was incredibly comfortable. Obviously the real test would be when I was out in the elements, but if an ice hockey player could vouch for them helping to keep him from getting too hot or cold, then that was enough for me.

I ended up getting three of the shirts, and as I put them into the cart, I said, “I never thought much about what you guys wear. Just looks like a bunch of pads under a jersey.”

Anthony laughed. “There’s a lot to it. And that time I tore up my arm mountain biking?” He tapped a knuckle against the center of his chest. “Lucky me, I was wearing my chest protector.”

“Like, the one you wear to play hockey?”

He nodded. “It was broken in and it fit me well, so I figured, why not? Good thing, too.” He grimaced. “I landed on a rock. Knocked the wind out of me, but it could’ve been a lot worse.”

I blinked. “Do I even want to know how you got the rest of the way down the mountain like that?”

“On my bike,” he said with a shrug.

“On your… With your arm bleeding and after you had the wind knocked out of you?”

“Well, yeah. My knee was scraped and bruised all to hell, too, so I wasn’t going to walk down.” He snorted. “That would’ve hurt.”

“So you… rode down.” I cocked a brow. “Why do I feel like you didn’t take it slow or easy on the way down?”

He grinned, all teeth and mischief. “The faster we went, the sooner I didn’t have to ride anymore.”

“Oh my God,” I said on a laugh, and I rolled my eyes as we kept walking. “I feel like you and my Army buddies would’ve gotten along really well.”

“Yeah?”

“Are you kidding? These are the same dumbasses who took an undercar roller—you know, the flatbed thing you use to get under a vehicle and work on it? They stood on it, held a piece of rope like they were waterskiing, and let a Humvee pull them around.”

“Ooh, that sounds fun!” Anthony’s eyes lit up. “A skateboard would be even better. Oh! Or one of those hoverboards!”

I facepalmed. “Jesus Christ.”

He snickered. “So how did that work out for them?”

“Two turned ankles—not the same person—a concussion, and a safety briefing.”

“A safety briefing?”

I nodded, making a face. “That’s when the brass calls everyone into formation and lectures us about why we can’t do some stupid shit because we’ll get hurt. They’re actually kind of funny sometimes. Like, we had one base commander who insisted on safety briefings for every-goddamned-thing. So we kept dreaming up wilder and wilder stuff just to listen to him tell us, with a completely straight face, that we couldn’t do whatever stupid shit anymore.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Oh, let’s see.” I thought about it. “The barracks hallway is not an appropriate or safe place to have races on office chairs. The chapel parking lot is not an appropriate or safe place to have races on office chairs. The flight line is not a safe place for—you get the idea.”

Anthony cackled. “That commander was no fun.”

“Right?” I tsked. “Especially the chapel parking lot. It was on a perfect slope, so you could haul some serious ass in a chair.” I paused. “Well, unless you hit a bump or the cheap-ass wheel fell off, and then…”

“Then you had a safety briefing.”

“Bingo.”

We both laughed and continued through the store. At one end cap, Anthony looked, then did a doubletake. “Are these…” He looked closer. “They make hiking boots for dogs?”

“Oh, yeah. Lily actually had a set for a while.”

“Really?”

I nodded. “Mmhmm. They’re good for hot pavement. Or cold. Or if there’s broken glass or something.”

He met my gaze. “Should we get her a couple of sets?”

“I…” I glanced at the boots. Then at my dog. She would definitely be safer out there with them. We sometimes had to stay in unsavory areas with glass and needles on the ground. And once we’d weathered the winter, summer would be along, and the pavement would be awful on her paws, and—

“Wyatt.” Anthony’s voice was gentle. “I’m serious—anything you or Lily need.”

I chewed my lip, not sure if it was pride or fear that had me hesitating to agree to it. I skimmed my gaze over the items we’d already put in the cart. “If, um… It would be a good idea. Maybe we can put back some of the—”

“No.” He said it firmly, but not unkindly. “Whatever you both need. Period.”

I held his gaze, unsure what to say or even feel.

After a moment, he softly said, “I’m serious. Money isn’t an issue. Like I told you, I remember when it was an issue, and someone helped me and my family through it. I want to pay it forward, and I wouldn’t be doing that if I pinched pennies. That means anything you need, and anything Lily needs. You want to keep your dog safe and comfortable, and so do I, so whatever you need for her”—he gestured at the dog boots—“it’s all yours.”

I slowly released a breath. “Thank you. I wish there was a way I could pay it back or forward, but I have no idea if I’ll ever—”

“It’s okay. You two will be taken care of. That’s enough for me.”

I had to swallow hard. Then, without a word, I took one of the dog boots off the rack. Crouching didn’t work very well with a prosthetic, so I found a bench, sat down, and had Lily sit. “Paw.”

She put up her front paw, and she patiently let me slide the boot onto it. Then I did the same for the other. She peered down at them. When I stood and told her to come, she took a tentative step, tapping the boot on the floor a couple of times.

“It’s okay, baby,” I said. “Come here.”

She glanced up at me. Then she took a few clumsy steps forward. I walked her in a couple of circles, and before long, she moved easily in them.

“See?” I said with a laugh. “They’re just like the ones you used to have. Good girl.”

She wagged her tail.

Anthony chuckled. “She learns quick, doesn’t she?”

“Very. Let’s see how the ones for her back paws fit.”

We found her a pair that fit comfortably on her back paws. I put two pairs of each into the cart.

“Does she need anything else?” Anthony asked. “We can make another run to the pet store if we can’t get it here.”

God, this man was amazing.

I gazed into the cart at all the things we’d already picked up, mentally tallying what Lily might need. I still had her food and water dish—those had been in my rucksack when the cops stole our shit—and we’d grabbed some waterproof blankets as well as a sleeping bag. We’d concluded that there was a better first aid kit available online than here—one that was compact, lightweight, and included a few extra items for pets—and Anthony had ordered it on his phone. Beyond that…

“I think we’re good for her?” I said. “It’s kind of surreal, being able to get what I need like this. When I was evicted, all we had was what we already owned and what I could afford from a military surplus store. Now I actually know what it’s like out there, what we need, and I can get my hands on it.” I exhaled. “I thought I knew what I’d need because I’d spent time in the field in the Army, but the first time around, I was completely unprepared.”

“I bet,” Anthony said quietly. “Seems like a miserable thing to learn the hard way.”

I grunted. “You have no idea.” The moment threatened to get unbearably awkward, so I cleared my throat and said, “I could use some socks.”

That broke us out of the awkwardness, and we headed upstairs to the clothing level.

When we’d finished raiding the store for anything and everything Lily and I could possibly need, the cart was full. Not overfull, of course—I had to be able to pack and carry everything easily—but I was almost dizzy with relief over how much better prepared we’d be this time around.

“I think that’s about it,” I said. “We could—” I chewed my lip. I really didn’t want to push my luck.

Anthony tilted his head. “We could…?”

Heat rushed into my face. “I, um…”

“Anything you need,” he said softly. “Seriously.”

“It’s… Well, it’s not much of a need.” I glanced down at Lily and swallowed. “She… When our stuff was taken, she had a couple of toys…”

His jaw fell open. “They took your dog’s toys? Seriously?”

“Are you kidding?” I laughed bitterly. “They took everything I didn’t have in my rucksack.”

“Jesus fuck.” He huffed with a startling amount of anger. “After this, we’re hitting up the pet store again.” He made an irritated noise. “Fucking cops.”

“Right? But I can’t ask you to—”

“Fuck that.” He waved a hand and shook his head. “If you were asking for a souped-up sports car or something, I’d say, ‘Hold on there.’ But a couple of toys for your dog? Pfft. We’re off to PetSmart after this.”

I stared at him. “Are you sure?”

To my surprise, he smiled. “Have you seen how much of my house is occupied by cat toys? Trust me—some squeaky toys and a bone or something is not an imposition.” He paused. “I need to pick up some catnip anyway.”

I laughed. “Okay, I definitely want to see your boys high as balls.”

His bright smile made my balance waver. “They’re a kick when they’re fucked up. Trust me.”

I wasn’t sure what intrigued me more—the thought of Moose and Bear stoned off their fluffy butts, or Anthony laughing at their antics. Either way, I couldn’t wait to see it.

We didn’t need anything else at this place, so we went downstairs and got into the checkout line. After we’d been standing for a couple of minutes, Lily pawed at my leg. I glanced down at her, and she did it again.

I knew that cue. It wasn’t urgent—she was good about waiting until we were able to get outside—but I would definitely stop as soon as we were outside. Which probably wouldn’t be long; there were only two people in front of us, and neither had much to ring up.

“Is she okay?” Anthony asked quietly.

“She’s fine. She’s just letting me know she needs to go outside.” I patted her neck. “She’s good for a little while, though.”

“Oh. Well, there’s no need to make her wait. Why don’t you go ahead and take her, and I’ll deal with all this?”

I hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Definitely. I can handle this part.”

I didn’t want to leave him with all the gear and checkout, but I did need to prioritize my dog’s needs. Even if she didn’t need to go right away, I tried not to make her wait when I didn’t need to.

“Okay. Okay, sure.” I flashed him a quick smile. “We’ll be right back.”

He nodded, and I headed outside. There was some grass right beside the doorway, but I took her to a small green belt at the edge of the parking lot. She patiently waited until we reached it, and then she took care of her business. I bagged it up and tossed it in a nearby trashcan. We didn’t go back inside right away, though. I had no idea if she got any sensory overload when she was working, but when I took her out to relieve herself, I always gave her a few minutes just to chill. She was still on duty, still focused on me rather than sniffing around like a non-working dog, but there was nothing going on around us and I was completely at ease, so I liked to think that gave her a moment to take a breather.

After a couple of minutes, I petted her head. “You ready to go back inside?”

She wagged her tail, panting happily.

I smiled. As much as I hated needing a service dog—PTSD could eat a dick, damn it—I loved this pup so much.

We went back inside, and Anthony was finishing up with checkout, signing the receipt as he exchanged some pleasantries with the cashier.

“Sorry about that,” I said. “I didn’t mean to bail while—”

“Nah, you’re fine.” He flashed me a quick smile. “It only took a minute.” He took the receipt from the cashier and slipped it into his wallet. “Ready to go?”

“When you are.”

I couldn’t even describe all the emotions rushing through me as we carried the various bags outside. The day I’d come back to our site and discovered everything we’d owned missing, I’d been sure we were done for. There was no coming back from that. Not with winter just around the corner.

And yet… here we were. A tent. A sleeping bag. Clothes. Blankets. Warm, protective shoes for both me and Lily.

Hoisting all these bags into the back of Anthony’s Land Rover, I was filled with more hope than I’d had in a long, long time. I still didn’t know if or how I could get us off the streets permanently, but we could weather it until I found a solution.

I clipped Lily into the back and got into the passenger seat. Anthony started the engine, and as it idled, he tapped his thumbs on the wheel. I watched him, trying to read his expression. His gaze was fixed on the store we’d just left, and his lips were quirked as if he were chewing the inside of his cheek.

Was he having some regrets? Had the sticker shock finally hit him? He had the receipt in his wallet, so if he wanted to return some of this—or all of it—that was still an option. My heart pounded. I wouldn’t have blamed him if he decided this was all too much, but God, I hoped he didn’t regret it. As much as I hated taking charity from anyone, I was desperate.

After a moment, he turned to me, his eyes serious but soft. “Listen, there’s always the chance your stuff could get stolen again.”

My shoulders sagged. “I know. I’ll try to avoid the cops and everyone else, but…” That whole train of thought made my stomach curdle. Half my existence on the street was trying to stay ahead of the cops. Trying to find safe, dry places to sleep where vandals and cops alike wouldn’t destroy or take what few belongings I had to my name. Now that I’d actually lost it all once, I was going to be a paranoid nervous wreck out there.

“If it happens again,” Anthony went on, “you can always get in contact with me. But if you can’t reach me, or if I’m not around, or…” He shook his head. “The point is, I don’t want you to be in a jam if someone rips you off again.” He took a small envelope out of his inside pocket and handed it to me. “Keep these on you. Maybe keep them in separate places so if something gets stolen, you still have the others.”

I studied him as I took the envelope. “What are…” The firm, flat contents of the envelope made my heart jump. So did the store’s logo on the flap. “Anthony…”

“Please,” he whispered. “Take them.”

I swallowed hard. Then I opened the envelope. My throat tightened as I slid the small stack of gift cards free. When I fanned them out, though… “Holy shit…”

There was a total of six cards, each with the same increment printed on the front: $500. Two of them were for the store we’d just left. The other four were prepaid Visa cards.

“Anthony.” I blinked my eyes into focus and turned to him. “This is so much. It’s too much. I can’t—”

“I want you to.” He held my gaze. “It isn’t right, you being out there in the first place. And having the cops rip off your stuff…” He made a face and shook his head. “You and Lily deserve better.”

I stared at him, suddenly almost overcome with the impulse to lunge across the console and kiss him. That wasn’t who we were, though. I was painfully attracted to Anthony already—last night had definitely driven that home—and his kindness only drove that deeper, but that wasn’t us.

And, hello? He has a boyfriend?

Obviously I kept my hands to myself. I wouldn’t jump on someone like that anyway, boyfriend or no. It was just overwhelming to be in the presence of someone who was willing to give so much to a complete stranger.

I hope Simon appreciates what he has.

I swallowed again and whispered, “Thank you. For everything.”

“You’re welcome.” He smiled and shifted into Reverse. “Should we go grab a late lunch?”

“Sure. Yeah. Sounds good.” I pulled on my seat belt. “I, um… I do have a little bit of money in my account. Let me at least buy lunch.”

He glanced at me, brow furrowed. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Long as we don’t go to some bougie-ass place that’s eighty bucks a head.”

Anthony laughed, which only made that attraction burn hotter. “Nah, There’s a café near here that I really like that doesn’t charge an—” His teeth snapped shut and his cheeks colored. “It’s, um, not very expensive. Especially by Eastside standards.”

“Sounds good to me.” I grinned. “I’m assuming they don’t charge an arm and a leg?”

He shot me a cautious glance. When I laughed, he did too, and his blush deepened. “Sorry. I kind of didn’t think before I spoke. Well, almost.”

“Eh, it’s okay. One of my Army buddies made that joke all the time, and he was a double amputee. Arm and leg.”

“Really? So it doesn’t bother you?”

“Me, no. I wouldn’t recommend making the same crack to another amputee unless you know them well, but I spent too long in the Army to not have a dark and twisted sense of humor.”

“Okay, fair.” He chuckled. “You’ll get along with my teammates tomorrow, then.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded. “Oh, yeah. They all have a twisted sense of humor. Not necessarily dark, but definitely twisted.”

“Sounds like fun. I can’t wait!”

He shot me a beautiful smile, and we headed out of the parking lot.

As Anthony drove and we shot the shit, the gift cards I’d slipped into my pocket may as well have been a cinderblock. I was unavoidably aware of them. Of the money this man had given me to make sure my dog and I still had what we needed to survive out there, even if thieves or cops ran off with our stuff again.

He didn’t have to. He’d been under no obligation to me from the moment we’d met in the clinic. But he’d bent over backwards for Lily and me, and I was grateful beyond words.

I wasn’t looking forward to being back out on the street. It was hell, and there was nothing that could change that.

But thanks to Anthony, I was a little more certain we could weather it.