Rescue (Emily and Mason) (10 page)

The dog takes one hesitant step towards Emily, and I fear
for her fingers, and then I rethink that. I fear for her entire hand. It only
takes a few minutes, but it feels like a lifetime before the dog finally
reaches out with its muzzle and takes the treats. As it’s taking the last one,
Emily reaches under its chin and gives it one scratch.

She waits for the dog to back off before she takes a few
steps forward, sure steps. Then she points at an open pen, and the dog slinks
in, its tail tucked between its legs. As soon as the pen door is closed I push
open the door and stomp towards her, my breathing coming in short pants.

“What the hell were you thinking?” I roar at her, grabbing
her upper arm and spinning her around. Emily’s shocked expression infuriates me
even more.

“Get your hands off me!” She yells at me, twisting away from
my grip. Testosterone is rising in the room as Taylor steps inside, unsure of
whether to direct his anger at me or at Emily. Before he can do either, I take
her wet, slobbery hand in mine and drag her out of the room and down the hall.
Jesse is shaking on the other side of the hall as we pass her, her eyes wide.

“Mason, please, you’re hurting my fingers!” The sudden
pleading in her voice has me letting go immediately, but not before I take her
t-shirt sleeve in my other hand and pulling her out the front door.

Baby’s now standing between the two front seats, her claws
probably scratching my center console. She barks once, and I see Emily’s face
soften, but I’m not going to let that deter me. She’s gone too far with that
mastiff. That could have been her throat in its jaws rather than treats from
her hand!

Emily

I’m not sure if his eyes are shimmering with fear or rage
right now, but I think it’s border lining on rage. Baby’s lone bark lets me
know that she’s there and okay, but my attention is quickly brought back to
Mason when he lets go of my sleeve and puts his fingers on my chin, making me
look at him. I know I look pissed because I’m about to slap him if he touches
me anywhere else.

“That dog could have
killed
you!” He’s no longer
screaming, but his voice is still loud. It echoes off the building and makes my
fried nerves even more on fire.

“Baby could have killed me just as easily when she was first
brought in! She was
worse
than that dog!” I try to explain to him in a
calm tone, but I sound defensive. I know that dog could have killed me, but it
didn’t. I’ve been bitten more times than I can count in this facility, and I’m
not afraid to be bitten again. It comes with the territory. Even humans lash
out when they’re frightened or in pain.

Then it hits me. He’s afraid. Mason is petrified that that
dog will one day rip my throat out or maim me in some awful way. I wish that
was enough to make me back down, but it’s not.

“Baby doesn’t weigh three hundred pounds!” Mason spits out,
pointing at her.

“It doesn’t matter what the size of the dog is, it’s what’s
on the inside. That dog is
afraid
, not murderous.” Mason splutters, his
fingers falling away from my chin as he runs his hand through his hair. Taylor
chooses that moment to come out the front door with Jesse in tow, his eyes
flashing. He makes a show of locking the front door, and as he gets closer he
points in my face, his lips curled up.

“You’re not allowed to step foot in this facility again!” He
says in a heated voice, tugging Jesse along behind him to his car. I watch with
an open mouth as they get inside and feel the shock entangling around my heart.

“W-what?” I ask in a quiet voice, to no one in particular.
Mason looks just as shocked as me, his attitude focusing on something else.

“If it weren’t for the fact that it’s you, I’d say he was
right.” Mason says bluntly. I see him pull a set of keys out of his pocket, and
I pull mine out. We were supposed to clean his house today, but I don’t think
I’m up to it. In fact, I’m starting to choke tears back already. This place has
been my home since my mother passed, having it taken away from me for trying to
help out a frightened dog is like someone ripping out my still beating heart
and stomping on it in front of me.

“I,” I don’t know what to say. My eyes are blinking rapidly
to hold back my tears, and it’s like the world has grown very small around me
as if I’m suffocating. I’ll have to find somewhere else to volunteer. I had no
future ahead of this place. I realize that now. I relied on this place to help
me heal and keep me sane, and now that it’s gone I don’t know what I’m going to
do.

Taylor Warren isn’t the only person in this facility with a
say in the matter, but the way he’ll twist it will turn everyone against me. I
don’t have friends here. Even Mason agrees with Taylor. That’s what I heard. My
bottom lip trembles as I pull my keys from my pocket and turn towards my car.
There’s a strong arm wrapping around my shoulders, and suddenly my face is
planted into a very delicious smelling t-shirt.

In the parking lot of the place that I called home for
months now,  I cry. Mason doesn’t make a sound as he holds me tightly, his
heart beat racing under my ear. When I’m finally done getting all my
frustrations out, Mason loosens his hold, and I slip out of it. I turn away
from him as I wipe at my eyes and see the black from my mascara on my fingers.

“I have to go home,” I tell him in a croaky voice. Baby’s
sitting patiently in the back of his Camaro with her tongue lolling out, but I
can tell by the way her shoulders are tensed that she’s not happy.

“So you’re going to let Taylor ruin the rest of your day
because of something he said out of fear?” I shrug one shoulder, unable to take
those last few steps between me and my vehicle. I’m going home because I look
like a raccoon. “Taylor doesn’t have a say in who volunteers here. I’ll get you
in touch with the person who owns the place. I’m sure that everyone else here
will back me up when I say that you’re the best volunteer here.”

“You really think so?” I hate the fact that my voice wavers
and my hands tremble at my side. I know that Taylor’s opinion of me is going to
weigh heavily on the decision as to whether or not I can come back because his
step-father is the man who owns this place.

“I know you are,” Mason sounds sure of himself and I let him
put an arm around my shoulders. “You can clean up at my place, the one I’m
currently living in and not cleaning up. Then we can go out and get some lunch
if you feel like it, and if you’re up to it then you can come over to clean
with me or I’ll take you home.” I glance at my car. He can’t take me home without
leaving my car somewhere.

“What about my car?” I’m not leaving it behind here, not for
someone to call a tow company and have it disappear. Taylor might be angry
enough to do just that.

“You can leave it at my place, and I’ll come get you
tomorrow so you can pick it up, alright?” I fumble with my keys and nod once,
wondering if I should drive home and leave Mason behind. Maybe I should just
leave this entire fiasco behind and sit at home with my laptop. I’m not
friendship material.

Mason’s fingers tighten on my shoulders before he lets me
go, getting out his own keys. Baby looks upset that I’m not getting in the car
with her, but as soon as Mason is inside she settles down. I slide in behind
the steering wheel of my own vehicle and start it. After I fiddle with my
makeup and make myself presentable again, at least from afar, Mason backs out
of his parking space and waits for me to back out of mine.

The drive to his house is surprisingly not long, but it’s in
the opposite direction of my home. He lives on a cul-de-sac surrounded by
woods, which I find endearing. I look up at the white house with blue shutters
and wonder if Mason’s father and brother are home. It is a Sunday.

Baby jumps up on my driver’s side, and barks at me once, her
ears perked forward and her tail swishing back and forth. She’s an entirely
different dog from the one that was penned up in that facility. I never did
like the cages. I take her hint and finally step out of my vehicle, letting her
lead me up the sidewalk to Mason.

“I’ll sneak you upstairs so you can clean up and then I’ll
introduce you to my Dad, sound good?” I nod gratefully and as soon as he opens
up the door I slide in behind him and close it. He quietly takes me up the
stairs and points me in the direction of a bathroom. Baby follows me inside and
refuses to leave; making me shut her in the bathroom with me.

I hear someone else’s footsteps down the hall from the
opposite end of the stairs and click the lock shut. A man’s deep voice greets
Mason. I can only assume that is Mason’s father, his brother is younger than
him, and it would shock me if he had a mature voice like that. Someone leans
against the outside of the door. I can hear the fabric rustle against the wood.

Before I can get kicked out and meet the entire family with
raccoon eyes, I start washing my face and reapplying my makeup. Baby watches me
intently as she lies against the door, panting. She looks content to the naked
eye, but I can tell that something in this house bothers her just a little.
Maybe it’s the deep voice of Mason’s father or just the fact that she’s in a
new home. When I’m finished cleaning up, I lean down and give her a kiss on her
snoot.

“It’s going to be alright. You’ll love it at your new home
with Mason. I promise.” Baby thumps her tail once and when I open up the door,
there’s no one in front of it. I can hear voices downstairs and try not to let
my stomach knot up at the prospect of meeting Mason’s father.

Mason

“What do you mean there’s a girl in the bathroom?” My father
looks worried over the fact that I’ve brought a girl home. I shrug my shoulders
as if it means nothing, and just as he’s about to lay it on me thick Baby comes
bounding through the kitchen doorway. Emily is a close second looking refreshed
from her previous breakdown. I feel ashamed that I was part of that.

“You must be Emily.” I’m shocked by my father’s reaction to
the girl he was just going to reprimand me about bringing home. He holds out
his hand to her, and Emily takes it hesitantly.

“I am, and you must be Mason’s father.”

“It’s Hank, not Mr. Killinger.” My father never tells
someone to call him Hank. All of my brother’s friends have to call him Mr.
Killinger. He believes it instills respect for elders.

“Mr. Killinger, I really appreciate you allowing me to use
your bathroom.” I clear my throat before any more of this awkwardness can go
on.

“Emily and I were going to clean out the old house. Are you
ready Emily?” I’m not sure why it bothers me so much that she’s actually
meeting my father. It might be because I’m afraid he’ll tell Emily about my
mother, or maybe he thinks I’ve already told her. Maybe it’s because I want to
meet her folks before she meets my entire family. In fact, if we don’t leave
within the next few minutes my brother might actually come home.

“I, uh, sure. Why not?” She sounds like there are a lot of
reasons why she shouldn’t be coming with me to the old house, but I think
moving on with the plan for the rest of the day will make some of the hurt from
this morning disappear. She adjusts the purse on her shoulder, and I lead her
and Baby out of the kitchen.

“Mason!” My father calls out to me. I turn around just as
Baby and Emily are walking through the front doorway to outside. “You be
careful, Mason.” It takes me a second to get his meaning. When I finally do, my
cheeks heat and I feel my fingers gripping the door unnecessarily hard.

“Right, Dad, I’ll be careful.” Before he can make me even
more embarrassed over his implications that I’m having sex with Emily, I manage
to make it out the front door and into my vehicle. Emily slides into the
passenger side after she puts Baby in the back.

“You’re Dad’s nice.” I snort at her statement and start the
car. “No,  really, he seems like a nice person.” I put the car in reverse and
don’t answer her for a long time.

“He’s an alright father.” I say grudgingly. This wasn’t
exactly what I wanted to talk about today. Then again, today doesn’t seem to be
going as planned at all.

Emily seems to understand that she’s stepped over an
invisible line, but she keeps plowing on. “Why isn’t he a nice father?” I snort
and shift the Camaro into third gear as I get onto the highway. I busy myself
with turning up the air conditioner, and then finally I have no more excuses to
avoid her question.

“I think by now you realize that my mother isn’t exactly in
the picture. She died when I was two,” Emily opens her mouth to say something
and shake my head gently. “Don’t, it’s in the past. After she died, my father
lost his mind. He started disappearing from my life, and my brother’s more
often. I never asked him where he went, but he reeked of alcohol and cigars
when he would get home. Those are some of my first bad memories.” I glance over
at Emily to see the look on her face. I’m shocked to find understanding there
as if she’s been through something like this too.

“He lost the love of his life, and while it was wrong I
think I can understand.” I finish off my little life history. But it only seems
to have dredged up more questions from Emily.

“How did she die?” Usually people say the word pass or go,
not the actual word die. Her frank question takes me off guard but comforts me
at the same time. I’m tired of tiptoeing around what happened.

“She died giving birth to my brother.” A silence falls over
the entire car. Even Baby does not make a sound in the back. I have to glance
in the rearview mirror to make sure that she’s alright.

My hand is on the gear shifter, and suddenly there’s
something warm over the top of it. I’m doing seventy five on the highway with
minimal traffic around, but I still shouldn’t glance down. I do anyway. Emily’s
hand is overtop of mine, and when I glance up at her face I see that there’s a
feint hint of a blush on her cheeks. She doesn’t voice an apology.

I can tell that she doesn’t want me to ask about her
parents, so I keep my mouth shut. The rest of the ride we listen to old
eighties and nineties music on the radio with Baby howling along with a few of
the songs. It takes forty minutes total to get the town where I spent the first
two years of my life.

Emily turns down the radio as we take the exit off the
highway and I take a left at the end of the ramp. She hasn’t said a word since
I told her that my mother died giving birth to my brother, and I’m beginning to
wonder what’s going on in her mind right now. Baby slinks into the space
between my seat and the back seat, onto the floor, when an eighteen wheeler
blows past us.

“Well, this is it. The town of Benfield.” I cruise down Main
Street, and then I take a right onto what used to be my old street. It’s about
four miles outside of town, but the eighteen acres of land with the house smack
dab in the middle still remains.

The mailbox at the end of the driveway is hanging off its
post by one nail. “We’ll fix that,” Emily says as we pass it by. Part of me is
wondering if this was a good idea. But it’s too late now. I’ve already jumped
in and made the decision.

The house is hidden by a few rows of trees, and as we pass
through them I realize that I bit off more than I can chew with this. My father
never kept the house maintained, and it’s been eighteen years since someone has
stepped foot in it. There are probably all manner of animals living in the
basement and attic, not to mention in the rest of the house. The shutters are
hanging off at odd angles, and a few of the windows have been blown out by bad
weather.