Page 33 of Riot

“Here, babe.” Riot passes me the torch. “Shine this here so I can get him out.”

“Okay.” I try to hold onto my tears, but animals are a soft spot for me. I had a dog growing up; a little white fluffy Maltesecalled Pepper. I miss her every single day. She died a few years back but had a good life for fifteen years. I’ve never had the will to get another animal because the heartache of losing them is just too much.

She was my support and comfort for so many years, and when she was gone, a part of my heart went with her.

I want to tell him I’m scared. That I don’t know what to do. That my heart is breaking and I might have an anxiety attack, but I try to pull myself together. This poor baby needs attention immediately. Me crying and making a fuss won’t help him any.

Riot lifts him and for the life of me I’ll never know how he hauls him over his shoulder. The dog whimpers again, but he lets Riot pull him out.

“Fuck,” Riot keeps muttering. I try to help, but I know I can’t take the weight of the dog. He’s gotta be at least a hundred pounds. Somehow, Riot manages to slide over the side of the dumpster and not drop the poor thing. When he’s safely on the sidewalk again, he lays the mutt down.

Taking the torch from me, he shines it over the dog’s body. “Holy shit,” I whisper. “Riot, he’s really hurt.”

“I know, babe.”

“I’ll call Luna.”

He looks back up at me. “Luna?”

“She helps run Faux Paws. She’ll know a vet.”

“Good thinkin’. Can’t fit him on the sled. I’ll call a prospect to come get us.”

Faux Paws is a shelter that the club helped set up and Luna is heavily involved, along with some of the other club members. They also have a veterinary service right next door so it seems like the obvious choice. Even though it’s late, I’m sure they’d have an on-call number.

“An Uber or a cab would be faster.”

“Doubt they’d let us in with a dog.”

“It’s an emergency, just explain the situation, they might take pity on us.” My voice breaks on the last word.

He looks up at me. “You okay?”

I nod. “Animals, dogs especially, are my weak spot.”

He cups one side of my face. “I’ll fix this. We’ll get him to a vet.”

“Okay.”

We both glance down at the poor baby, completely helpless. So broken he doesn’t even try to run away.

Why are people so cruel? Who could do such a terrible thing?

Half an hour later, I’m in the back of a truck as we head toward Faux Paws Dog Rescue. Their resident vet is going to meet us there for emergency treatment. I wince when I think about the pain this poor baby was going through all that time. How long, we don’t know, but judging by the state of him, it must’ve been a while.

A few tears slide down my face, but I try not to make a noise. I don’t want to scare the frightened pooch any more than he already is. Riot sits next to me in the back, the dog laying across the both of us, his head in my lap as I stroke his face. Complete and utter trust. I don’t even believe that some humans deserve a second chance.

I feel Riot’s hand close over mine as I turn to meet his gaze. “Breathe,Kitten.”

I nod, no words coming out. I’m afraid if I speak, I’ll lose it, and that won’t be good for anybody.

“We should name him.”

“Careful tiger, we don’t really?—”

“He should have a name,” I insist. “If anything happens…”

His eyes are soft when he says, “He’s got a broken leg and he’s malnourished, from what I can see.”

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