Page 28 of A Little Christmas! Johnny
When I’m pretty sure I’m mostly presentable, I follow the sound of running water to the breakroom. When I get in there, I see one of the guys at the sink doing dishes, but not my Johnny. The guy turns around and ends up splashing water all over the place when he jumps.
“Holy Bejeebus! Dude, make some noise!”
He starts wiping up the mess and I can’t help but wonder sometimes just how much the old owner knew about his workers when he hired them. I’ve seen a few of them at The Devil and McKinley’s, so I know they are at least aware of the kink scene even if they aren’t in it themselves. This guy hangs out withthe crowd from Kink Manor sometimes, so I'm not as on guard around him as I would be with the others.
“Where’s Johnny?” I ask while I grab up another towel to help him get the counter wiped down. “I crashed out hard after my shift at the store and I just woke up.”
He takes my towel from me and I watch as he tosses both of them into the bin for the cleaning service. Johnny explained to me that it’s better to send everything out to professionals rather than risk an oil rag getting mixed in with regular laundry. Plus, a part of me wouldn’t trust these guys to know how to use a washing machine properly either.
“Baby Boss just stepped outside to make a call or something. Dunno who the lady was on the phone, but I kinda hope her plane crashes on the way to wherever the fuck she’s going. Bitch was nasty.”
Baby Boss? Oh, my boy might need to have a talk with his coworkers sooner rather than later if they’ve already figured it out, but...
Fuck.
I wasn’t thinking about how it might blow back onto Johnny when I texted Trent this morning. There’s no time to waste, so I run out to the shop floor to find my boy. I see him by his project car, looking through the tool box for something. Instead of waiting for him to notice me, I just go over and pull him into my arms.
“I didn’t like not having you next to me when I woke up, Baby Boy.” The words are true even if they aren’t the ones I should be saying.
“Sorry, Daddy,” he whispers, turning to give me a kiss on the cheek. “With the door being busted, I had to get up to let Jackson in, and you were so tired. I wanted to let you get a little bit more sleep.”
I notice he hasn’t said anything about his family or the dogs. Even if that’s not the reason he woke up, obviously something happened with it or else Jackson wouldn’t know about it. Johnny doesn’t hide things when they come up, but I’ve also noticed that he doesn’t volunteer information either. Getting him to ask for help with anything is like pulling teeth.
“Is that the only reason you got up?”
I watch him stick out his bottom lip – his tell when it comes to him failing to keep a secret. I nudge him with my hip as we lean against the bumper of his project car.
“What’s going on, Johnny?”
He sighs and throws a glare my way before it melts back to his neutral face.
“Did you really have to call the cops on my sister?”
Ah. I didn’t think it would come to light this quickly that it was my doing. But in all fairness, his sister shouldn’t have sent that vitriol in those texts. If she had just done the smart thing and found someone else to watch the other dogs, there would have been zero issues.
“I’m sorry, Baby.” I’m sincere in my apology to him for the stress it caused him, but no way in hell am I sorry for putting the bitch through that. “I saw her texts and got mad. I asked my friend at the station to do a welfare check on the dogs right after I knew your family left for the airport.”
“Is your friend Officer Reynolds?” Johnny asks with a smile. I’m glad to see he’s not really angry at me anymore. When I nod, he starts giggling. I’m not sure what that’s all about, but I pull him in for a proper good morning kiss.
“Get a room!”
Jackson is leaning on his tool chest clutching his coffee like it’s hispreciousin the next bay when we break apart. He takes a loud slurp of his sludge before giving us a wink. I take that as our cue to get the fuck out of here. When we get outside, both of uspause. Oh hell, my parking job was fucking awful this morning. From the open bay door, Jackson yells out, “I got pictures!”
Johnny giggles again and I decide that I don’t really care if I never live this down. He’s safe and happy. That’s all that really matters. My ego can take a few hits for the lack of parking skills displayed here if it keeps that smile on his face.
When we get to his sister’s house, Trent is there in plain clothes with the police report for the incident at the shop and a copy of the neglect complaint for our records in case Erica decides to pull some shit later. Johnny pretends to be mad at him for not telling him when he called that he was the one doing the complaint, but it is pretty obvious that he's not really upset.
All of the dogs seem to go nuts when they see my boy from the window. Did they seriously just let five dogs roam loose in the house not knowing when someone would even be by to check on them? I watch Johnny give some sort of hand signal and they all quiet down while he unlocks the door. Trent and I share a look before following him into the house.
It’s obvious to me that he’s watched and played with all of these dogs before, but his family are out of their minds if they think he has the time to be watching five dogs forty minutes away from his job for three weeks during one of the busiest times of the year. With traffic this morning, even being a Saturday, it took us almost an hour to get here because we needed to go past the shopping centers. How in the hell do they think he can manage this every day?
A dark grey pitbull nudges me in the leg while Johnny is practically buried under the rest of the menagerie. The jack russel keeps jumping over his prone body while the German shepherd and tan pitbull are competing to see who can lick him to death faster. What looks to be a husky puppy thanks to the blue eyes is crouched under the coffee table. It had been all over Johnny at first, but bolted when Trent and I walked in. Onething is for sure, none of these animals would make good guard dogs.
“I borrowed some crates from the vet last week. They’re behind the seat in my truck. Can you guys go grab them while I settle these monsters down and take them out back for a potty break before we go?”
My boy climbs to his feet and walks deeper into the house. The pack follows him with tails going ninety miles an hour. The only one that looks back is the grey one. I feel like he’s warning me not to hurt Johnny, just like Jess did in the beginning.
After some creative language, I finally mange to get all of the crates built, putting three in my car and leaving the fourth to Johnny to put in his truck. Apparently, Peanut is used to riding in the car, so he doesn’t bother with a crate for him.
