21. As You Wish

twenty-one

Cam

"You're a fucking dog whisperer," I yell in a hushed tone, letting all the air I had been holding hostage out of my lungs. I've tamed some beasts in my job, but that was a fucking dragon. Violet looks at me all smug.

"You can say it, y'know," she says in a raspy, airy tone. I scoff at her cockiness.

"Say what, exactly?"

"That I was right," she responds.

I laugh. "Yeah. Good luck."

She shoots me a glare that isn't at all daunting.

Now that the dog has warmed up to Violet, he's starting to warm up to me as well. And even though both of our dogs are fully vaccinated, I hold them tightly to my side to avoid contact. I feel bad; from the playful stance and excited whines, I can tell the dog really wants to play. But like I said, he looks like a disease.

13"I guess we should take him to the shelter?" I suggest, scooting further to the left to avoid contact between the dogs.

Violet's brows furrow, and she frowns. "But look at him!" she says, pointing to the rugged canine. "He has nobody to love him!"

I immediately shake my head.

"Nope. Nuh-uh," I say firmly. "I do not have the space for another dog."

Violet squats, squishing his face between her hands.

"But look at this face." She says it in a baby-talk tone, and even the dog looks up at me with big sad eyes, like he's trying to work it with her.

I continue shaking my head. "Not happening. If you love him so much, you take him home."

Violet stands, crossing her arms. "I can't."

"Well then, I guess he's gonna have to go to the shelter," I respond. It isn't like I don't care about the dog. I want him to have a happy family just like the rest of them. But if I took home every stray dog I've found, I'd have like nine dogs. Violet sighs all dramatically, like her sadness about the situation will make me change my mind.

It won't.

"Can we at least show him what love is?" she pleads. Then, she starts to sing "I Want to Know What Love Is" by Foreigner. I look at her, now about four feet away because I absolutely refuse to let Dawson anywhere near him. She looks ridiculous, holding the leash of this emaciated, hyena-like dog while singing an eighties hit song. Ridiculously cute, that is.

You wouldn't think Violet is the "cute" type. She's tattooed and pierced and stands like she's taller than five foot two. People like that are usually described with words like "intimidating" and "sexy." And while she is sexy, nothing about her is scary. Maybe she can be a bit dominant during sex, but that's the furthest it goes.

I glance back up at her, listening to the absolutely terrible, off-pitched cover she's still singing. Her eyes catch mine, and I am so fucking mad because I can't help but give in.

"Fine," I grumble, making it a point to increase the distance between us. "But stop creeping over here. I don't want Dawson to catch something."

Violet breaks into a giant grin.

"But he's not going in my car," I say firmly. "I don't want any of whatever it is getting spread around."

I look down at the dog. He's actually really cute, once you look past his cracked teeth, irritated yellow eyes, and patchy body.

"Deal," Violet says. "Meet you at my place?"

I nod, gesturing to Dawson. "I'm going to drop him off at home first."

"Okay," Violet says, patting her leg to beckon Reese to her side. Reese isn't even mine, but it stresses me the fuck out that he is anywhere near that dog. "See you there."

When I get to Violet's house, which is unsurprisingly yellow by the way, I take my time looking around. Our "appointments" are usually at my place, so the only other time I've been here was that day after the tattoo. And to be honest with you, I didn't really have the opportunity or desire to look around then.

Both Reese and the stray are loose in the living room, like Violet doesn't care what objects the stray may spread his disease to.

"Would you like some?" Violet asks from the kitchen. I look at the tap water running into her glass. I wonder what microscopic things are floating around in it.

I shake my head, patting the water bottle in my backpack side pocket. "I'm set, thanks."

I look around her house cautiously, like it's a sin to get caught doing it. Picture frames decorate the wall above her couch, at least the ones that are left. Most of the wall is bare, small nails poking out where frames used to be. I wonder what they were, and I wonder what she plans to change them to.

"We should feed him," Violet says.

After locking Reese in her bedroom, we pour the stray a bowl of kibble. We don't know how long it's been since he's eaten, so we do it in sections, placing the food in a ridged feeder so he can't eat too quickly. Unsurprisingly, he scarfs it down every time.

"Good boy," Violet says, scratching behind his oily ears. Well, his ear-and-a-half. Then, she makes a face, like she just tasted something sour.

"What?" I ask. She continues scrunching her nose.

"Don't you smell that?"

"You mean the stray dog we found that looks half-dead? Yeah, I can smell him," I say.

Violet shakes her head.

"You have to give him a bath."

I furrow my brows, narrowing my gaze onto her. "What?"

"Cam," she says, with a very serious look on her face. "He reeks. Please, you have to give him a bath."

I've never been one to give in to other people's demands, so I'm unsure of how I find myself next to Violet with my knees against her bathroom floor while I run hypoallergenic shampoo through this dog's half-bare coat. His skin leaves a strange, flaky, oily residue on my hands that just about makes me vomit. I squeeze assholes for a living, but this is so much worse.

The dog shakes, and a brown soapy wave heads our way. I shield us from the blast with a towel that was luckily laying on my lap.

"I think we should name him," Violet says as we carefully pat him dry.

I look at her earnestly. "That is literally the worst idea. Don't you know anything about naming a stray?" I ask.

A sly smirk slowly spreads across her face, and she gives me a matter-of-fact look. "I named you."

Heat rises to my cheeks. I don't know if it's out of irritation at the dig or the slight innuendo in her tone. Whichever it is, it's making the warmth between my thighs pulse.

"I'm thinking Buddy," she continues.

I scoff, unimpressed.

"Buddy is like, the number one most basic dog name on the planet," I respond.

"So?"

"So don't you think he deserves a little better than that, after what he's been through?"

Violet looks back at the dog, like she's thinking very deeply about this.

"Buddy is an All-American family dog name. Everyone loves a Buddy."

"That may be true, but this dog is not a Buddy," I testify. She's won enough today.

"Fine, then what's your suggestion?" Her arms cross over her chest impatiently.

"I don't have one. I told you naming a stray is a bad idea."

"But if you had to," she pleads. "If you had to, what would you name him?"

I look at her, and I know I fucked up when I accidentally lock eyes with her again. Those demanding, desperate eyes. How the fuck do you say no to those eyes?

"Parvo," I say, dead-faced. She doesn't laugh. "Fine. Um…"

I think for a moment. What is the name of someone charming, yet kind of a wreck?

"Westley," I say finally. "Like The Princess Bride."

Violet immediately nods in agreement, her crooked smile just as bright as her eyes.

"It's perfect!"*

As our final act of showing Westley what love is, we stopped to get him a pup cup on the way to the shelter. Of course, he licked it clean in seconds and looked at us for more.

When we pull into the Pine Paws Animal Sanctuary parking lot, I actually start to feel sad. My gut churns, thinking about leaving Westley here alone.

I knew naming him was a bad idea.

"Are you sure you can't keep him?" Violet asks as we unload him from the car. I look at her sadly.

"Just about as sure as you are," I respond.

Pine Paws Animal Sanctuary is actually the best place for him, at least until he recovers. They'll make sure he gets everything he needs, and they have so many volunteers that they don't know what to do with them all. Avery stops in every week to take the animals on walks around the neighborhood. It's good for their morale. Plus, they have a behaviorist that can help with his people skills.

"It'll be good for him," I say with assurance. I can sense Violet's guilt, because I'm feeling it just the same. "They treat animals here like royalty."

Violet nods her head, but she's still upset.

"I know," she says. "I just think everyone should have a family."

I look at her solemnly before opening the front door, then nod. "Yeah. Everyone should have a family."

A bell chimes as I push the heavy oak, a sound not so different from the one at Furry Friends. Westley steps through the frame nervously, his tail tucked and ears back which breaks my heart all over again.

14"Welcome to Pine Paws, how can I help you?" a man asks. The voice is low and familiar, the contents of my stomach curdling as every hair on my body stands up. My gaze snaps over to the man behind the desk, recognition pooling in his eyes as they lock onto me. While my jaw clenches, his lips pull into an arrogant smile. "I was wondering when you'd finally come to see me."

A rock forms in the base of my throat, my grip on Westley's leash tightening so hard my knuckles turn white.

"What are you doing here?" I ask through gritted teeth, my voice quieter than I intended. I'm either overheated or freezing right now, but I'm having trouble figuring out which. Cody walks around the desk, his green eyes locked onto me as he approaches. The nails of my curled fingers sink into my palms, my heart pounding heavily inside my chest.

"Didn't Avery tell you?" he asks, his smirk growing as his head cocks to the side. "I work here now."

I try to maintain eye contact, to prove I'm not the person I was, that I don't back down anymore. But the piercing intimidation of those eyes and his supercilious grin forces my gaze to the floor.

They let you around animals?I want to ask. But I can't even get my mouth to move in the way it needs to form words.

"Well!" Violet's voice breaks the silence, and she settles herself in front of me, forcing Cody to take a reluctant step back. "Is that something she needs to know?"

I don't see it, the bitter smirk on his lips, but I know it's there by the way his voice sounds when he responds.

"And you are?"

My eyes flick up to Violet, her bold, unwavering stance a blockade between Cody and me. I don't want her to be subjected to another second of Cody's existence. Actually, I don't want her to know who he is at all.

"Violet Wolfe," she answers, firmly and professionally, sticking her hand out. My gaze focuses on Cody now, hoping to catch his reaction. I don't know why Violet's being this way, so proper yet assertive. I'd enjoy it, if I weren't afraid of what Cody is capable of.

He sticks his hand in hers, and both of their hands grow white as they squeeze overly-hard. Violet doesn't even flinch, which I have to admit is impressive. I know how strong Cody can be when he wants to.

"Cody," he says, that stupid smile still stuck to his face. Violet may walk around with a smile I know she doesn't always mean, but that's the worst thing about Cody. He means it, and not in a friendly way. "Cam's ex."

I swallow, my throat growing tighter and drier.

"Yeah, I got that." Violet smiles back, her eyes squinting in a way that tells me that, like Cody's, this smile isn't a friendly gesture either. They continue shaking each other's hands, staring into one another's eyes like whoever breaks first loses. I don't quite know what it is they'd be losing, but I do know Violet has a fiery side to her. The pair of them could be explosive.

I clear my throat.

"Cody, Violet is my boss," I clarify, which is entirely true but feels like a complete lie. I step to the side, eyeing him intently until he releases Violet's hand. She continues staring him down until I jut an elbow into her side, silently commanding her to stop. "We found this guy outside Furry Friends. No collar or tags, and I doubt he's chipped. We just came to drop him off."

Cody nods, shooting Violet an indiscernible look before walking back behind the counter. The loud clicking of the keyboard fills the awkward silence. We follow, settling uncomfortably on the other side.

"So that's where you're at now then?" he asks, his gaze fixed to the screen as his fingers continue typing.

"What?"

"Furry Friends. I stopped by The Dog Shop not too long ago, but you weren't there. I figured you finally realized you were too good for the place."

A sarcastic laugh slips through my lips, and I glance at Violet, her brows dipping. What is so ironic about that sentence is the fact that Cody was the one who said I'd never move on from The Dog Shop. He said I'd be stuck there forever. But this is what Cody does. He makes you think he'd supported you all along, so when he says something cruel, you believe him about that too. I don't believe in fate, but somehow, he convinced me I was destined for destruction.

"Well, seeing as you're her ex," Violet says, propping a hand on her hip, "I don't really understand why that's any of your business."

Cody's eyes snap up from behind the computer, an irritated glare glossing over his eyes.

"You're a pretty involved boss," he says, before breaking his stare to retrieve papers off the printer. I shoot Violet a look, one that says, "please don't push him" but she isn't looking at me. She's still staring at him, a flame burning in her eyes.

This isn't like the jealous look she gave Hayden at the bowling alley or even the envious talk of it in the days after. What Violet is holding in her gaze is something I didn't even know she possessed at all.

It's hatred.

Or extreme distaste, at least. It isn't rare for someone to feel that way about Cody, but it's completely new to me coming from Violet.

"Happy employees…" Violet grabs the paper from Cody's outstretched hand. "Happy—"

"Violet, can I talk to you for a second?" I cut in, my cheeks flushing. Violet shoots me a confused look.

"Sure?" she says hesitantly, more of a question than an answer. I look up at Cody, forcing a painful smile.

"Can you give us a minute?" I ask. Cody cocks a brow, his expression unchanging, but I can feel the curiosity washing over his face. He nods.

"Okay, I'll be back in a few."

The second the "Staff Only" door swings shut, I spin to look at Violet.

"What are you doing?" I snap, my brows knitted together. Violet still looks puzzled.

"What do you mean?"

I sigh, shaking my head. "I mean why are you trying to pick a fight?" My voice wavers at the end of the sentence, but I try to stay composed.

Violet scoffs, holding her hands out argumentatively. "I'm not! He's the one who got all up in your face like—"

"I don't need you to protect me," I say, firmly but trying not to come off too harsh. Violet could write a book on having only the best of intentions. But she doesn't know what she's up against. "Cody isn't someone you mess with, okay?"

Behind her eyes, I watch pieces of a puzzle slowly slide into place, confusion turning to concern.

"Cam, did he hit you? Because—"

"What? No!" Air hisses from my nose as I shake my head, waving my hands frantically in front of me. The sad truth is, I wouldn't think that was far-fetched. But Violet doesn't need to know that. She doesn't need to know any of this. "No it wasn't like that. He's just a dick, okay? And I want to leave. So please, please, just be nice."

Violet's eyes scan mine, her pupils dilating as they dissect every part of me. I try to take steady breaths, but they're choppy and ragged.

"Well, I hope that was long enough because I've got to get this guy," Cody scrunches his nose at Westley, and though I'd done the same only hours ago, it makes me hypocritically want to punch him in the face. "In with Dr. Robinson before she leaves."

I shoot Violet one last pleading glance, not caring about the desperation behind it. She gives me a singular nod, and all the tense muscles in my body slowly ease.

"Right, sorry about that," she says through what seems like a genuine chuckle to someone who wouldn't know any better. "Work stuff. You like it here, Cody?"

I'm almost amazed at Violet's ability to flip a switch. How easy duality comes to her, like second nature. Her tone can be so curt one second, then like sweet tea the next. Cody seems intrigued too, or maybe more confused. His brows quirk, and he glances at me, my stomach twisting under his gaze.

"Yeah, I like it alright. But it's just temporary."

Violet continues scribbling on the intake form, not looking up at him but ensuring the forced sincerity remains in her tone.

"That's a shame. How come?"

I chew furiously on the inside of my cheek as his eyes burn a hole through me, his gaze still unbroken. My chest twitches from my anxious breathing, which I swear puts a shimmer in his eye.

"I'm moving in January."

Violet's head snaps up, just about at the same exact moment that my heart sinks. It makes no sense really, why that sentence filled me with dread instead of relief.

The proof I've moved on is standing right next to me. But for some reason, my vision goes blurry.

"Oh Cool! Where are yo—"

"Why are you moving?"

I don't mean to cut Violet off. I don't even mean to say anything at all. But the breaking words flow out of me with no regard for my intentions.

"I got accepted into the music program at USC," he answers. I blink, a tear trickling down my cheek. Cody moving has no effect on me. I mean, really, I haven't even seen him since the breakup. And it surprised me, but after the first few months went by, I didn't want to. So why, in this moment, does it feel like the end of the world?

I nod, wiping my face as I sniffle.

"Oh," I say, my voice cracking. "That's great."

Cody nods, but our eye contact is broken by Violet, who waves a white sheet in the air.

"Here you go," she says, and Cody turns his attention toward her. He scans the paper, nodding in approval, then walks back around the front of the desk. The familiar allspice scent filling the air around me is almost nostalgic.

"Well, I'm going to take him back, and you two should be all set," Cody says, slipping a leash over Westley's head and returning the old one to Violet. He looks over his shoulder as he stands in front of the staff door.

"Call me, Cam," he says, then disappears behind it.

Violet grabs my hand without hesitation, squeezing softly.

"Are you okay?" she asks, the familiar roughness of her palm is strangely soothing. I nod, but her grip only tightens. "Cam, you're shaking."

"Huh?" I look down. My hand is trembling in hers. I realize now that, for some reason, I'm still crying. I take a shaky breath, my heart frozen in my stomach, yet racing in my chest at the same time.

"He really is a dick, huh?" she asks. I swallow, my shoulder shaking as I wipe my cheek against it.

"Violet please," I sniff. "Just don't." I look at her briefly through my wet lashes, and she gives me an apologetic nod. "Just take me home." *