Page 56 of Interference

I hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Definitely. I can handle this part.”

I didn’t want to leave him with all the gear and checkout, but I did need to prioritize my dog’s needs. Even if she didn’t need to go right away, I tried not to make her wait when I didn’t need to.

“Okay. Okay, sure.” I flashed him a quick smile. “We’ll be right back.”

He nodded, and I headed outside. There was some grass right beside the doorway, but I took her to a small green belt at the edge of the parking lot. She patiently waited until we reached it, and then she took care of her business. I bagged it up and tossed it in a nearby trashcan. We didn’t go back inside right away, though. I had no idea if she got any sensory overload when she was working, but when I took her out to relieve herself, I always gave her a few minutes just to chill. She was still on duty, still focused on me rather than sniffing around like a non-working dog, but there was nothing going on around us and I was completely at ease, so I liked to think that gave her a moment to take a breather.

After a couple of minutes, I petted her head. “You ready to go back inside?”

She wagged her tail, panting happily.

I smiled. As much as I hated needing a service dog—PTSD could eat a dick, damn it—I loved this pup so much.

We went back inside, and Anthony was finishing up with checkout, signing the receipt as he exchanged some pleasantries with the cashier.

“Sorry about that,” I said. “I didn’t mean to bail while—”

“Nah, you’re fine.” He flashed me a quick smile. “It only took a minute.” He took the receipt from the cashier and slipped it into his wallet. “Ready to go?”

“When you are.”

I couldn’t even describe all the emotions rushing through me as we carried the various bags outside. The day I’d come back to our site and discovered everything we’d owned missing, I’d been sure we were done for. There was no coming back from that. Not with winter just around the corner.

And yet… here we were. A tent. A sleeping bag. Clothes. Blankets. Warm, protective shoes for both me and Lily.

Hoisting all these bags into the back of Anthony’s Land Rover, I was filled with more hope than I’d had in a long, long time. I still didn’t know if or how I could get us off the streets permanently, but we could weather it until I found a solution.

I clipped Lily into the back and got into the passenger seat. Anthony started the engine, and as it idled, he tapped his thumbs on the wheel. I watched him, trying to read his expression. His gaze was fixed on the store we’d just left, and his lips were quirked as if he were chewing the inside of his cheek.

Was he having some regrets? Had the sticker shock finally hit him? He had the receipt in his wallet, so if he wanted to return some of this—or all of it—that was still an option. My heart pounded. I wouldn’t have blamed him if he decided this was all too much, but God, I hoped he didn’t regret it. As much as I hated taking charity from anyone, I was desperate.

After a moment, he turned to me, his eyes serious but soft. “Listen, there’s always the chance your stuff could get stolen again.”

My shoulders sagged. “I know. I’ll try to avoid the cops and everyone else, but…” That whole train of thought made my stomach curdle. Half my existence on the street was trying to stay ahead of the cops. Trying to find safe, dry places to sleep where vandals and cops alike wouldn’t destroy or take what few belongings I had to my name. Now that I’d actually lost it all once, I was going to be a paranoid nervous wreck out there.

“If it happens again,” Anthony went on, “you can always get in contact with me. But if you can’t reach me, or if I’m not around, or…” He shook his head. “The point is, I don’t want you to be in a jam if someone rips you off again.” He took a small envelope out of his inside pocket and handed it to me. “Keep these on you. Maybe keep them in separate places so if something gets stolen, you still have the others.”

I studied him as I took the envelope. “What are…” The firm, flat contents of the envelope made my heart jump. So did the store’s logo on the flap. “Anthony…”

“Please,” he whispered. “Take them.”

I swallowed hard. Then I opened the envelope. My throat tightened as I slid the small stack of gift cards free. When I fanned them out, though… “Holy shit…”

There was a total of six cards, each with the same increment printed on the front: $500. Two of them were for the store we’d just left. The other four were prepaid Visa cards.

“Anthony.” I blinked my eyes into focus and turned to him. “This is so much. It’s too much. I can’t—”

“I want you to.” He held my gaze. “It isn’t right, you being out there in the first place. And having the cops rip off your stuff…” He made a face and shook his head. “You and Lily deserve better.”

I stared at him, suddenly almost overcome with the impulse to lunge across the console and kiss him. That wasn’t who we were, though. I was painfully attracted to Anthony already—last night had definitely driven that home—and his kindness only drove that deeper, but that wasn’t us.

And, hello? He has a boyfriend?

Obviously I kept my hands to myself. I wouldn’t jump on someone like that anyway, boyfriend or no. It was just overwhelming to be in the presence of someone who was willing to give so much to a complete stranger.

I hope Simon appreciates what he has.

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