“Officer Russo. What a pleasant surprise.”
It’s a surprise to me too. “Hi, Sadie. Just came by to drop these off.”
Her eyes widen when she spots the two officers behind me, each holding two boxes as large as the ones I’m carrying. “What is all this?”
“Supplies.” I step into the shelter and lower the boxes onto the floor. “You said you were low on some things, so I wanted—we wanted to make sure you had everything you needed for the puppies we unloaded on you.”
She touches her fingertips to her lips. “Oh, my goodness. Thank you so much. This is too generous.”
I’m as much of an animal lover as the next person, but something made me want to go out of my way to make sure Sadie was able to care for the dogs. Or maybe it was someone.
My head has been all sorts of fucked up since Phoenix moved in next door. I find myself thinking about her at random times throughout my day. What she’s doing, if she needs help renovating, if she’s hungry. I tell myself not to get distracted by her, that I need to focus on Leo right now.
Yet I can’t get her off my mind.
So here I am, bringing supplies to the shelter, knowing it’ll make Phoenix happy.
“Your girlfriend was here earlier,” Sadie says. “She’s been stopping by to spend time with the puppies, and she’s been such a huge help.”
My partner, Phil, slaps me on the back. “You got a girlfriend, Russo? You’ve been holding out on me. I knew something was up with you lately.”
My head jerks back. “What do you mean, something’s up with me?”
“You’ve been acting strange. Stranger than usual. Mumbling to yourself and shit. Barely listening to anything I’ve been saying.” He shakes his head. “I should’ve known it had something to do with a female.”
Sadie waggles her eyebrows at him. “She’s very pretty.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt it. My man right here can pull just about any lady he wants.” Phil sucks his teeth. “It’s a damn shame he doesn’t take advantage of his powers.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re an idiot.”
“It’s true, and you know it.” He drapes his arm around Sadie’s shoulders. “Tell me more about this pretty girlfriend of his.”
She beams up at him, and I shake my head. Phil has enough charisma to choke a horse, and he can manipulate any conversation with a flash of his smile.
“She’s got long brown hair and pretty dark eyes. She looks a little sad until she smiles and her entire face lights up.” Sadie nudges me with her elbow. “That runt pup makes her smile. You want to be boyfriend of the year? Get her that puppy.”
I’d be lying if I said the thought hadn’t already crossed my mind.
“Yes.” Phil points his index finger at me. “I second that. Chicks love puppies. That’ll get you major pussy points.”
I cringe. “I’m so sorry about my partner, Sadie. Would you mind taking us back to see the dogs? Then we’ll be out of your hair.”
“Of course.” She waves a hand, and we follow.
Phil leans in. “Seriously, bro. Why didn’t you tell me you’re seeing someone?”
“Because I’m not. She’s just my neighbor.”
“The one that moved into the vacant house next door?”
I nod.
“So why does your pal Sadie here think she’s your girlfriend?”
“I don’t know.” Because I didn’t correct her.
He arches a brow. “But you’re into her though.”
“Didn’t say that.”
“Didn’t have to.”
I shoot him a look, and he grins.
Sadie pushes open the back door, and dozens of dogs jump at their gates, barking and wagging their tails as we pass by.
Phil winces. “Shit, it’s loud back here.”
Sadie nods and gestures to the last pen. “They’re in the back there.”
My eyes scan the litters of puppies until I spot the tiny black-and-white one with a heart-shaped nose. He’s trying to get to the water bowl, but his brothers and sisters crowd around it.
Sadie points to him. “That’s your little guy.” She swings open the gate and ushers me inside. “Take all the time you want.”
I crouch down and scoot the puppies aside to make space for the runt to drink. I stroke his back while he laps the water, feeling each bone in his tiny body. These dogs were so scared when we found them in the abandoned house. It breaks my heart knowing they were ripped away from their mother, unable to form that important bond with her before some piece of shit did God knows what with her.
Once again, I arrived too late.
“These guys are going to be monsters,” Phil says. “Look at the size of their paws.”
I scoop the runt into my arms, and he nuzzles into the crook of my neck. “Pit bulls get such a bad rap. They’re all innocent, gentle animals until someone gets his hands on them.”
“How’s the adoption event coming along?”
“Phoenix is handling it.” Her wide eyes flash through my mind. “She’s really excited about it. I hope the dogs get adopted, otherwise she’s going to be heartbroken.”
Phil sits down, and several of the puppies crawl onto his legs. “So, tell me about her. What’s going on?”
I shrug. “I don’t really know her.”
“But you’re trying to?”
I let out a sigh, and the puppy licks my cheek. “My gut tells me there’s something wrong with her.”
Phil’s eyebrows shoot up.
I shake my head. “Maybe wrong isn’t the right word. I don’t know. Something’s off. Something happened to her. Something she’s going through. I can’t put my finger on it, and it frustrates me.”
He chuckles. “You can always read people. You’re telling me you can’t read this chick?”
I don’t tell him how she cries every night before bed. I don’t tell him how she barely smiles, and that when she does, she looks so incredibly sad when it fades. I don’t tell him about the subtle comments she’s made in passing, about not having a family, about being alone, about having darkness inside her. I don’t tell him how she doesn’t think she’s worth someone’s time, how she views herself as a burden for needing the tiniest bit of help. And I definitely don’t tell him how I can feel her from all the way inside her house, like she’s calling out to me, drawing me in.
I don’t tell him any of these things because then it’d sound like I know her better than I said I did, and I can’t explain how because we’ve only just met, yet there’s something so familiar about her that it feels as if I can see into her soul.
My gut twisted when Phoenix looked up at me last week, expecting me to leave her to eat by herself. It twisted even more when I watched her cry herself to sleep later on through her bedroom window.
I shake my head at my own stupidity. As if hanging out with me would be enough to take away her sadness for a night.
“Leo likes her.”
Phil cocks his head. “Yeah? How’s he been since he came home?”
“I think he’s going to get clean. It feels different this time.”
“I hope so, for you and your father’s sake. I’d hate to see you get let down after everything you’ve been through.”
My walkie crackles on my shoulder, and Phil groans after the dispatcher finishes talking. “Really? Those punk kids at the skate park again?”
I give the puppy one last kiss on his head before setting him down with his siblings. “Let’s go scare them straight.”
When we arrive at the scene, the group of teenagers spray-painting the side of the skate ramp scatter in different directions.
“Fuck, I hate running.” Phil bolts out of the car and pounds the pavement after them.
We’ve received multiple calls about these kids for the past couple of weeks. They’re vandalizing the new skate park and terrorizing the younger kids who want to skate. They’re bored sixteen-year-olds who haven’t had proper parental supervision or discipline.
The fuckers are fast, but not fast enough to outrun me and my partner. We each grab a kid by the collar of his shirt, while the rest get away.
“Get off me.” The boy tries to squirm out of my grip but fails. “You can’t manhandle me like this. I’m a minor.”
“I’m holding your shirt, not manhandling you. And you shouldn’t have been spraying graffiti everywhere if you didn’t want to be manhandled by the police.”
He grunts. “There’s nothing wrong with art.”
“There is when it’s on public property.”
“What about the children you’ve been fucking with all month?” Phil tugs his offender’s elbow. “That part of your art too?”
He grits his teeth and says nothing.
“Oh, you the strong and silent type?” Phil snorts. “You’ll do well in jail.”
He scoffs. “Jail? I’m only sixteen. I can’t go to jail.”
“There are kids younger than you sitting in the juvenile detention center because of the dumb choices they’ve made.”
I look down at the boy in front of me. “You want to do art? Go to school. Take a class. Set up a studio in your garage.”
He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, like my parents would let me do that.”
“Have you asked?”
He looks down at his shoes and shakes his head.
“Another dumb move, assuming instead of asking. What’s your name?”
“Cory.”
“You have any plans on going to college, Cory?”
He shrugs like he hasn’t thought about it.
“There are plenty of art schools you can get into. You can start building your portfolio now and do some volunteer work to look good on your college applications. Start thinking long term about your art, and you could make this a future for yourself.”
He kicks a rock with his shoe. “I’m not that good. I just spray paint to mess around.”
I gesture to his mural on the side of the half-pipe. “That’s good. You should believe in yourself and your abilities.”
His friend pipes up. “If you’re not going to arrest us, then you have to let us go. We don’t need a lecture from you, Grandpa.”
Phil’s eyebrows shoot up. “Grandpa? Boy, I’ll run circles around your ass. Watch your mouth when you’re talking to authority and show some respect.”
I keep my focus on Cory. “You become the company you keep. You should surround yourself with people who are going places. People who will lift you up. Not the kind of people who drag you down with them.”
“Yes, sir.” He lifts his eyes to mine, and something familiar tugs at my heart. There’s an innocence in his eyes, something I once saw when I looked at Leo.
I release his wrists and cross my arms over my chest. “I’m letting you go with a warning.”
Phil’s mouth drops open. “Another warning? Come on, man. These punks will just do the same thing again tomorrow.”
“Then we’ll bring ’em in.” I shrug and glance between the boys. “This is your last chance. Don’t fuck it up.”
They take off running in the direction their friends ran before.
“You’re too nice for your own good.” Phil blows a low whistle and shakes his head. “You know you’re gonna regret this decision, right?”
“Probably.”
I pull off my shirt and toss it into the hamper before collapsing on the bed.
I slip my legs under the covers, telling myself I won’t look into Phoenix’s window even though I know I will. I can’t seem to help myself when it comes to her.
What would she think of me if she knew I spied on her every night before bed? Would she be creeped out? Angry? Would she stop speaking to me?
I crack open the book on my nightstand and settle against my headboard to read. But I keep reading the same sentence over and over again, until I toss the book onto my comforter, and lift my eyes to the window.
She’s sitting up in bed with her elbows resting on her knees. She’s staring at her phone, the glow from her screen illuminating her face in the darkness. Then she wipes her eye with the back of her hand and hangs her head between her knees.
What is she looking at that’s making her so sad?
She didn’t tell me the whole truth about what happened between her and her mother. I didn’t want to pry, but I could tell there’s more to the story than what she told me.
My heart thumps a quick rhythm as I watch her body shake with her sobs. I can’t go over there. It’s late, and I can’t let her know I was watching her. Yet it pains me to see her upset and not be able to do anything about it.
I snatch my phone off the charger, and type out a text:
Me: You up?
I watch as her head pops up to look at her phone. Her lips curve up, and my chest squeezes at the mere sight of her almost smile. I hold my breath in anticipation until my phone vibrates in my hand.
Phoenix: Yup. What are you doing up?
Me: Just got home from my shift.
Phoenix: Catch any bad guys?
Me: Not tonight. Just some punk teenagers.
Phoenix: Ever shoot somebody?
Phoenix: Wait, is that too personal?
Me: Yes, and no.
Phoenix: You killed someone?!
Me: I said I shot someone, not killed.
Phoenix: *phew* Breaking and entering is where I draw the line.
Me: Gotta have standards.
Phoenix: I bet the guy deserved it. Where did you shoot him?
Me: In the leg. He robbed the Wawa down the road.
Me: He fired first.
Phoenix: Wow. I could never be a cop. I don’t think I could shoot someone if I had to.
Me: You would if your life was on the line.
Phoenix: I don’t like that you have to put your life on the line.
Warmth spreads in my chest. My eyes flick to her window. She’s lying down now, with her phone resting on her chest as she waits for my response.
Me: Why not? I’m protecting people.
Phoenix: But who’s protecting you?
Me: I protect myself. Plus, my partner has my six.
Phoenix: Your six? Is that cop code?
Me: It means he has my back.
Phoenix: Then I have your six too.
Emotion constricts my throat. Phil has my back because it’s his duty. When was the last time someone had my back because they wanted to? I stare at the blinking cursor on the screen, unsure of what to say, until another text pops up.
Phoenix: Goodnight.
Me: Night, Phoenix
Phoenix: It’s Nix
Phoenix: N – I – X
Phoenix: Three letters. One syllable. It’s not that hard.
I chuckle as she rolls her eyes before she plugs the charger into her phone and sets it down on the nightstand. At least she’s not crying anymore. I wait until she’s asleep and then I type out one more text:
Me: I’ve got your six now too.
