“Hey wait,” I said, standing up and moving toward her. “Everything cool?”
“It’s Patch,” she whispered and her shoulders slumped. “Remember the family that’s been visiting with him? That boy that you said is too rough with him?”
“Yeah,” I said and when I glanced back at Jude, his arms were propped up and he was paying close attention.
“They had a visit in the playroom today and according to Tristan the boy got rough and Patch nipped at him.”
“Damn,” I said. “Bet the family went crazy.”
“The mother filed a formal complaint and said they weren’t going to adopt.” She shrugged. “Since this is Patch’s second incident, he’s been placed on the list.”
I knew the exact list she was referring to.
“How is it the second incident?” I asked.
“When he first came in last year, he bit a worker who had approached his bowl while eating,” she said. “He’s an abused animal; they can get territorial.”
Patch seemed like such a mild animal in comparison to a dog like Chopper. But he was skittish, too, so maybe if he felt threatened, he retaliated the only way he knew how. “Hell, Emmy, I’m sorry.”
“If they can’t find the right fit in the next few weeks, he’ll have to be euthanized.”
She bit her lip to hold back tears and I pulled her into a hug.
“Don’t worry,” I whispered, momentarily forgetting that I was in a tattoo appointment with Jude. “It’ll all work out.”
“I don’t see how,” she said, pushing back from me. “It seems like an impossible situation.”
My heart clenched. I knew how much that dog meant to her. Emmy and I were alike in a lot of ways—we had no siblings and were raised by our grandparents. The exact reason we connected on a different level.
“Maybe it’s time you started looking for a place to live on your own,” I said. “So you can adopt him.”
“As of right now, I don’t have enough money saved for a down payment as well as first and last month’s rent,” she said. “I’m working on it, but until I graduate and get a decent job, not sure I can even afford my rent.”
“Maybe you can stay with Jessie,” I said.
“We already talked about it, but her landlord doesn’t allow pets, either.”
“How about if I take him?” I said, the idea rolling off my tongue too easily. What the hell was I even saying?
Her jaw dropped open. “You’d do that for me?”
“Of course I would.”
“You’re the sweetest guy,” she said, gripping my hands. “But you already have two dogs and Chopper and Patch don’t exactly get along.”
She was right; I hadn’t exactly thought it through. “Let me think on it and finish this appointment with Jude. We’ll talk about it again later.”
I walked back to Jude’s table lost in thought.
“You like to take on others people’s problems,” he said.
My jaw ticked. “Is that how you see it?”
“You already have one dog that’s a pain in your arse.”
“Can’t help it,” I said, sighing. “She’s a good person.”
“You’re a good person, too.”
I stared at him a long while and then fired up the machine, noticing the time on the clock. “Thanks.”
The silence became deafening as I geared up to ask Jude when I could see him again. In private. But even with the situation at the Board Room the other night, he was always on edge and I needed to know if anything was ever going to be possible between us. If the answer was no, I needed to know why not. I needed to know the truth.
“Did you ever figure out what that noise was the other night at the shop?”
He shook his head. “Could’ve been nothing.”
“Either you’re paranoid or something is going down,” I said, gentling my voice. “I’d like to know what it is.”
He just stared at me.
“I’ve already been seen with you, Jude. I need to be able to decide some things for myself.”
His eyes became wide. “The club’s got your back.”
“The club?” I said, remembering Smoke outside that night and pretty much everywhere lately. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It’s just . . . you’re already under their protection,” he said. “Because of me. This is exactly why I didn’t want—”
“Damn it Jude, what are you involved in?” I said before I could tame the words busting from my lips.
He face turned red and he tightened his knuckles. “Is that what you think—that I’m doing something illegal?”
“I don’t know what to think,” I said trying to control my voice and my emotions. “You tell me your mom is dead and your stepfather had something to do with it.”
He pounded his fist into the table. “I never told you that.”
I threw up my hand in frustration. “It wasn’t hard to guess.”
He sat up suddenly, fear evident in his eyes. But we had gotten this far and I needed to know the rest.
“Is he affiliated with the Disciples in some way?”
“He’s . . . had some past dealings with them,” he swallowed roughly and shook his head, the words emerging slow and uneven. “But now, he’s more an enemy. The club doesn’t trust him.”