20. Strays

twenty

Violet

Do you ever fuck up so badly that you feel like you deserve an award? 12Like "I didn't know you could say something so stupid, but here we are?"

I think I earned a gold-star for being the world's biggest asshole on Friday. Actually, scratch that. I know I earned it.

I thought about texting Cam to apologize, but the way she looked at me, I don't think she ever wants to talk to me again. I had absolutely no idea Cam's parents had died. When she said that she "got it," I assumed she meant her parents were kind of like addicts too. Overbearing, maybe, or just plain harsh.

But you know what they say about assuming.

I feel like I should have expected the conversation to end poorly. I never talk about my parents, not to anyone. Even Mallory only knew what she observed herself. Vulnerability is practically a how-to betrayal guide. And that's precisely what I did to Cam.

Hayden explained it yesterday at our session. How her mom died during birth, and her dad in an avalanche. I remembered seeing it a few years ago on the news. He was the only one on the bypass that evening, and the avalanche just fell. There was no warning, no signs. Just a sudden, arbitrary drop.

I cradle my temples between my fingers, rubbing them rapidly. Cam had absolutely every right to react the way she did. I might know what it's like to have shitty parents, but I don't know what it's like to have none at all. She was right. I had no idea what I was talking about.

I look up at the parking lot, leaning against the wall of the facility and taking a large breath. I should be in my car, on my way home. Actually, if I had left when my shift was over, I'd already be at home. But it's been a long day, and I needed to decompress a bit before driving. I needed some fresh air. I take a bite of the beef jerky in my hand.

Reese stands next to me, looking up at me with the cutest, roundest eyes the world has ever seen. I know I shouldn't, but I toss him a piece of jerky anyway.

I hear the front door close, the swing of the heavy door causing just the slightest vibration through my back around the corner. Reese stands, his tail wagging excitedly as he starts to approach the edge of the wall.

"Reese, co—" A little black snout pokes into sight, then the rest of a scruffy black-and-white body. "Oh. Hi Dawson," I say, my heart thrumming in my chest. If Dawson's here, that means—

"Dawson, let's go," Cam commands, giving the leash a slight tug. But Dawson's face is already pressed into Reese's ass, his tail swaying vigorously. Reese's body grows firm, but his tail stays wagging, which I know means he wants to play, so long as he's in charge. Cam tugs the leash again, but Dawson continues to ignore her. I could help her. Give her some tips on keeping his attention and getting him to listen. But I don't think Cam wants my help. Especially not right now.

"Hey." I wave my hand awkwardly, confused as to why anything came out of my mouth when I had already decided not to talk. Surprisingly, Cam looks up at me, but she quickly looks back down at Dawson.

"Hi."

Well, it's not much, but it's a start. I straighten my posture.

"Can we talk?" I ask. I want to apologize. No, I need to apologize. But it won't mean anything if Cam isn't ready to hear it.

"You're talking to me now, aren't you?"

Her eyes flick up to me, and if the circumstances were different, I'd think she was almost smiling. I swallow nervously.

"Yes, I know. I just mean—"

Cam laughs, and I don't think I have ever felt more relieved in my life.

"I know. I'm fucking with you," she says, stepping closer to me. "Because I'm fun, remember?"

I nod because now isn't the time to tease her back. Now is the time to grovel for holding the trophy of the world's biggest dick (with no dick).

"Look, about Friday…" I scratch behind my ear nervously. "I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have said that. None of it. I got caught up in the moment, and…you were right. I really had no idea what I was talking about."

I wait, trying to look at her and trying even harder not to stare. Cam hates being stared at, which I found out by her almost ripping my head off when I had been looking at her through the groom room window.

Literally, her text said:

Stop fucking staring at me or I'm going to rip your head off.

It isn't my fault she's so easy to stare at. Cam shakes her head, stepping closer to me. I can only imagine what she's about to say.

"Violet, you're an asshole."

"Violet, I don't give a fuck."

"Violet, take your apology and shove it up your—"

"No." She says it definitively. No hesitation, no uncertainty. I look up at her, puzzled, but she continues. "I'm sorry. Look—" She's standing next to me now, leaning against the wall alongside me. "I was hurt. What you said hurt me, and it makes sense that it hurt. It was a hurtful thing to say."

"I know," I look at her apologetically. "And I'm so sorry."

She holds her hand up, which is my cue to stop talking.

"It was hurtful. That doesn't mean it wasn't true. I know what it's like to not have parents. And you have no idea what it's like to have dead ones. But I never had to live with the idea that my parents chose something over me. When I had them, I was always put first. I mean, my mom died—" Her eyes well slightly, but she blinks the tears away. "She died so that I could exist. And my dad, he did everything he could to protect me. To love me and take care of me. So I don't have any idea either."

The tip of my nose tingles, my lip sliding between my teeth as I chew on it vigorously and listen to Cam's words. She sighs.

"What?" I ask. Cam is expressive. She doesn't try to hide how she feels or what she's thinking. It's admirable. To just walk about the world so openly. She shakes her head.

"I'm just sorry you had— have—to go through that, Violet. It's just as terrible as it is the way I had it. Maybe, from my perspective at least, worse." Her hand squeezes my arm just briefly, and all the hairs on my skin stand up. "What happened to me, with my parents? It was awful. It was a tragedy. But you?" She swallows hard, her eyes glossed over. "It's a betrayal to be put last by the ones who created you. I'm just so sorry."

I try to adjust my eyes, but no matter how hard I try, Cam stays blurry. Then I realize: they're watering.

I blink quickly, patting them dry and turning away from Cam so she doesn't see me. Please, God, do not let the first person to see me cry since first grade be Cameron frickin' Miller.*

Cam's hand rests on my shoulder. But it's quickly pulled away when thundering barks filling the air. Dawson's body stiffens as he lets out the warning, and Reese snaps himself back to my side in his perfect heel position. Cam tugs on Dawson's taut leash, trying to redirect his attention and calm him, while my eyes dart around to find what he's barking at.

Then, I see it. Only a few feet away from us, a large, off-leash dog is sniffing the ground behind a tree. He's unfazed by Dawson's relentless barking but immediately stiffens when he sees Cam and me. She finally tugs him to her side, getting him to relax just enough to be quiet.

"Look," she whispers, pointing at the dog. I nod. "He doesn't have a collar, and he looks really skinny."

My head tilts as I look at him closer. She's right. Every bone in this dog's body is peeking through the skin. Every ridge of his spine, every dip in his ribs, is completely visible. Cam hands Dawson's leash to me inconspicuously. Then, she peels the slip lead I was wearing off of me and shoots me a conspiratorial smile.

There are two types of people in this world: those who try to catch loose dogs, and those who don't. The fact that Cam is the former pleases me in a way I can't describe.

"Hey buddy," she says, crouching down near the dog. "Are you lost?"

The dog lets out a low growl, his lip lifted to reveal a set of yellow jagged teeth. Cam steps back.

"Woah."

I've seen her deal with multiple aggressive dogs in the salon. Snappy Shih Tzus and mean Malteses, rude Rottweilers and grumpy German shepherds. But those dogs are vaccinated. Those dogs are restrained. This one looks like he's lived his life outside and is completely alone. So her fear of getting bit is pretty rational.

Still, I love a challenge.

"Here," I say, motioning for her to grab Dawson's leash. She walks back over to me, her brow cocked. "Let me try."

Cam looks at me like I belong in an asylum.

"Are you crazy?" she snaps in a low tone, like the dog will hear her and get offended. "He just growled at me like he meant it. And, he looks like the literal definition of disease."

I look back at the dog. Grey, scaly skin pokes out through missing patches of fur. Half of his left ear is missing, and there's a rather large scar around his yellowed eyes. I look back at her.

"Exactly, we can't just leave him! He's not going to bite me." She continues gaping. "Oh, just take it!" I say, shoving the leash into her palm again. This time, she wraps her hand around it.

"Okay, okay," she says. I wave, motioning for her to scoot even further back. She just stares.

"Move back," I whisper. "He needs more space."

Cam mutters under her breath, crossing her arms. "Bossy."

"What was that?"

"I said you're bossy," she repeats, like I wasn't asking just to falsely intimidate her.

She's lucky I'm on a mission right now, or I'd throw her in my car, drive her home, and fuck that attitude right out of her.

"Do what I say, or I'll show you who's boss," I say in a hushed breath instead.

Cam steps back.

I crouch as low to the ground as possible and slowly move sideways. I don't walk toward the dog; I walk adjacent to him. He looks up at me with the same whale-eyed nervousness Reese gets when strangers try to touch him. This dog just tops his off with a chipped, ragged smile. I avert my eyes from his, looking down at his chest instead. If this dog is a stray, he's probably unsocialized and doesn't trust people.

I know a little something about that.

So I let him know I'm not a threat. I sit down at a comfortable distance, making sure my body is sideways. That way, he doesn't feel like I'm staring at him head-on, but I can still see any sudden movements he decides to make.

"Be careful," Cam whispers. I can tell she is genuinely nervous for me.

I'm not scared at all. I'm not going to do anything to push the dog out of his comfort zone. If he were going to attack us out of pure aggression, he would have already done it by now. He would have bit Cam instead of giving her a warning. I just shoot her a silent thumbs-up and continue my stakeout.

It only takes minutes for the dog to approach me.

He too is crouching, wearily following his nose to my path. I don't move. He gets closer, his nose now inches from my ear. I hear the quick sniffs he's taking through his nose, trying to figure me out. Another throaty growl leaves his mouth, and for that fleeting moment, I am scared. I'm scared that his nose is inches from my ear, and if he wanted to, he could rip it clean off. But like I said, the moment is fleeting.

Dogs can smell fear, y'know.

I hold as still as I can, taking shallow breaths so my lungs don't fully inflate. The slightest movement could scare him away, and he may never know the safety of a home. I close my eyes.

Then, a wet, rough tongue drags across my cheek.

Talk about spreading disease.

My eyes shoot open, but I still make sure not to move too quickly. The dog continues licking me and starts to paw at my face and chest excitedly. His stance is loose, his tail wagging, but his ears are still on guard, which is fair, given the circumstances.

I slowly reach my hand out, placing it under his chin and scratch him gently. He leans into the touch, letting out a satisfying groan.

"I've got you," I whisper, continuing to pet him. He rolls over on his back, tongue dangling out the side of his mouth. That is the ultimate sign of trust.

I smile, and lasso the leash loosely over his head, careful not to startle him. Then, I stand slowly. Once I am fully upright, he paws my legs, asking for more attention.

My eyes dart to Cam, putting my arm in the air with a victorious fist. Her mouth hangs halfway open, as she stares at me in disbelief.

"I told you."