Page 41 of Vendetta

“Landry, get in the fucking car. It’s already dark and you’re not walking back to campus in this rain.”

“Why would you even care? You hate me, remember?” she spat back at me. Of course she had to be complicated. She wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t about her. I wouldn’t like seeing any woman stuck walking home in this storm. For some reason, the fact that it was Landry unsettled me even more.

“You’re clearly soaked and freezing, you’ll get a cold if you walk all the way back to campus like that. Besides, the guys and Olivia would kill me if I left you out here like this. Get. In. The car.”

She hesitated, coming to a halt beside my car as she considered.

“You promise not to be a dick?” she finally asked, turning to look at me through the long strands of wet hair.

I smirked. “No promises.”

Rolling her eyes, she grunted, yet still walked towards me and opened the car door. “You’re the worst.”

“I try,” I joked, letting her slip inside as she turned on the heater and I took off down the road.

“What were you doing out in this weather anyways? And this late?” I knew she occasionally volunteered at the shelter, but it was nearly ten in the evening.

“I was doing rounds at the shelter. I had my evening class tonight until eight so I wasn’t able to come earlier.”

“Why didn’t you just drive? Especially if you knew it might rain?”

She hesitated, her eyes going distant for a brief moment, like she had been watching something play out in her mind.

“I don’t drive unless I absolutely need to. It scares me.”

I didn’t say anything, unsure how to respond to that. I was tempted to push further, but the last thing I needed was a sob story that would make me feel any sympathy towards her. It would make it so much harder to do what I needed to do when the time came if I let myself feel bad for her in any way. I had already caught myself thinking about her way too often for my liking.

“Why do you volunteer at the shelter? I figured someone like you would have better things to do in her free time.”

She turned to offer me a scowl, which did nothing except make her look even more adorable with her arms still crossed in front of her like a petulant child.

“Easy. It’s because I love being around the animals. My parents would never let me have any growing up, so I used to volunteer back home whenever I could so that I could be around them. Especially the shelter animals.”

“Why the shelter animals specifically?”

“Because they deserve to have somebody to love them and care for them as much as any other animal. You should see some of the conditions these animals are in. Most of them take so long to trust because all they’ve ever known is living in cages their whole lives. Especially the ones who used to have owners and were surrendered to the shelter, they go from being cherished and loved to not understanding why they were left behind by their humans. It’s heartbreaking. That’s why I try my best to spend a bit of time with each of them, even if it’s just spending time studying in their enclosures so they can learn to be more comfortable around me, or giving cuddles to the ones who love snuggling. Cats and dogs need companionship. And getting to witness terrified animals learning to trust again is one of the most rewarding things I have ever experienced.”

Damn. I had to admit, it wasn’t something I had ever really thought about. Adoption wasn’t big around here. I didn’t even know we had a shelter around here until I had intercepted the message that Landry was going there that night during the games.

“Bexley and Olivia both convinced their families to make generous contributions, and I try to help out as much as I can as well. But at the end of the day, they could have all the treats and toys and quality food, but they’re still living in cages instead of somebody’s home. It’s not money that the shelter needs right now, it’s awareness.”

“You really feel passionate about this, huh?” I asked, genuinely curious. I hadn’t pegged her as the charitable type.

“Yes. I actually made my entire Communications midterm about BSL, which stands for Breed Specific Legislation. Even though I never got to present it…”

A small pang of guilt hit me as I remembered why that was so.

“What’s that?”

She leaned back, getting more comfortable as the heater continued to dry her wet clothes.

“The easiest way to explain it is that some states have laws or restrictions on certain dogs based on their breeds. So it can be anything like German Shepherds, to rottweilers, Dobermans, and most of all Pit Bulls. They believe that those breeds of dogs are inherently dangerous and shouldn’t be allowed as pets.”

“And that’s wrong because?” I asked, not understanding why this was such a big deal that she had decided to make her entire research project on the topic.

She turned to look at me as if I had lost my mind, a fire lighting in her eyes. Not out of anger, I realized, but out of passion for the subject.

“Because thosescarybreeds aren’t bad dogs, they just have bad reputations and it isn’t fair to discriminate against them. There have been accidents, yes, but most of those were due to a case of irresponsible owners. And due to those laws, millions of dogs are killed in shelters each year. I would even be willing to understand some compromises, like maybe requiring professional training for those breeds or making leashes a state requirement in public places, but to sentence that many innocent animals to their death just because of their breed? It’s depressing and inhumane.”

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