Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
I smiled. “That would be lovely.”
She walked with me and we discussed her children, where they worked, and what they did.
A weird niggling feeling started to roll through me when she started talking about her sets of twins.
But before I could ask her if she happened to be related to a certain set of twins that I knew, she got a call.
“Oh, shoot,” she said. “Yeah, I can get him off the bus. Love you, Atlas.”
“That’s my son, Atlas,” she explained. “His son, Forest, gets dropped off here from daycare.”
I nodded. “I really appreciate your help,” I said. “Thank you so much. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’ll be sending a ride for you,” she said. “He’ll be there around eight. I’ll have him buzz up to your apartment, however, so you won’t have to worry about spotting him.”
After saying our goodbyes, I started walking back toward the sidewalk.
I had a spring in my step as I went, and likely a goofy smile on my face.
I felt really, really good about this job.
Like, it was the perfect one and I could spend the rest of my life here.
“Listen,” I heard someone say in Spanish. “I don’t care if you’re Jesus or Mother Mary. You don’t get to speed, get pulled over, and run from the cops. You’ll find that it’s easier to just pull over next time. If there even is a next time. Dumbass.”
I kept walking, keeping my head down, despite the grin curving up my lips.
It was a good five-minute walk, almost at the same spot that Rooster had stopped earlier, that I heard the whispers start up.
“Think there’s a dog inside. Look,” I heard someone say.
“I’d say something, but then they’d tell me to freakin’ leave, and I just got here,” a man replied. “I may be homeless, but I ain’t…”
I missed whatever else he was going to say when someone stopped me with a hand on my arm.
“Miss?”
I swallowed hard, trying to bury my nerves behind a pleasant smile. “Yes?”
I almost took a step back due to the smell of body odor that assaulted my nose.
“There’s a dog in this car right here,” the man said. “Look.”
I winced, hating the feeling of having my belly drop out at the reminder of how impaired I was. “I can’t. I’m blind.”
“Oh,” he sounded defeated.
Rooster started to whine and sat down, refusing to get off of my feet when I urged him to move forward.
That’s when I realized that there was actually something wrong.
Trance had told me that if he felt something was unsafe, or that I needed to know about something, Rooster would let me know. And I knew that firsthand to be true because he’d stopped me in a very similar way twice.
Once when I’d been about to step out in front of a car that was speeding, and another time when there was a missing board that would’ve likely broken my leg if I’d stepped on it.
Meaning, there truly was something wrong.
“Can you explain what’s going on?” I asked, my belly now filled with butterflies.
“Sure,” the man who was apparently homeless, said. “Dog’s in the back. If you’re quiet, you can hear him whimpering. Feel the car, put your hand right here.”
I did.
“Hot,” I said quietly. “How far away are we from the police station?”
“A good half a mile,” he said. “This is where all the officers park. Overflow.”
“Oh,” I said, patting my pocket for my phone, and realizing…I didn’t have it.
Shit!
“You got a phone?” I asked hopefully.
I’d have to go back to get my phone.
I remembered vaguely putting it on the corner of Mrs. Carter’s desk when she’d asked me if she could input a few numbers in case I ever needed any help.
“Yeah, I can’t even afford a sandwich, let alone a phone,” the closest man said. “And no one’s around.”
“I think he’s gonna die,” the other man said. “He just started to throw up, and it looks like he’s kinda foaming at the mouth.”
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“You got a rock handy?” I asked.
I mean, what else could I do?
This dog needed some air.
If inside the car was anything like outside the car, it had to be excruciating.
“Here,” the man said as he handed me what felt like a brick.
Close enough.
I reached forward and pressed my hand to the window.
“Is he in the front or the back?” I asked.
“Back,” he said. “You’re standing in front of the front window.”
I nodded. “Any places nearby that you can go to call the police?”
“Yeah,” he said.
I nodded. “Then go.”
That’s when I broke the window.
I hope you fall down with your hands in your pockets.
—Garrett to Atlas
GARRETT
I missed seeing her every day.
I knew Boss missed seeing her every day.
He looked at the door longingly every morning, as if he could stare at it and it might morph him back out to the balcony where she would slip him pieces of bacon from the balcony below him.