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“Fuck,” Alex muttered under his breath and went to a crouch. There, tied to the post outside, was a dog—a mutt that looked as if it had run through a patchwork of breeds and landed on scruffy, brown, and skinny. Alex exhaled a sigh that seemed to carry a mix of resignation and compassion before he held out a hand for the dog to sniff and unhitched the leash. The mutt wagged its tail hesitantly, as if unsure of its fate, but hopeful all the same.

I know the feeling.

“Is this one of the dogs from inside?” I asked, but Alex shook his head.

“Abandoned,” he murmured, “left somewhere safe for us to find. We’re a no-kill shelter, and when people know that…” He didn’t have to finish.

There was a note in his hands, pulled from where it had been stapled to the dog’s collar. The message was simple: the dog had been left for the shelter to take in. I watched as Alex scanned the words.

“His name is Bugsy,” he whispered, and the dog’s ears pricked. “Hey, Bugsy.” Then, he offered the leash to me, and I took it, taking some time to scratch Bugsy’s ears and coo at him. I might have lost communication skills over the past few months, but even I knew how to ask a dog if he was a good boy.

Bugsy wagged his tail, then pressed himself against me—the same as Alex had done.

It felt nice.

Together, Bugsy and I stepped inside the gate. As soon as the door opened, a cacophony of barks enveloped us. The shelter was alive with noise, and the unmistakable smell of animals filled the air.

A slim woman with a riot of red hair scurried over to us, ignoring Alex and me and crouching instantly, the same as Alex had done before.

“Who is this sweetie?” she asked us.

I waited for Alex to answer, but he didn’t, so I went to a crouch, my muscles aching. “This is Bugsy. Someone left him.”

She kissed his head and scratched his ears. “Oh baby,” she murmured, and when Bugsy laid down and offered his belly, she petted him until he fell in love with her one rub at a time.

“This is my friend, Abbie,” Alex introduced. “She’s my… friend.”

I caught the hesitation and the repeat of the wordfriend, which seemed weighed down with other meanings. Was Abbie his partner? Alex had always said he was gay, but maybe he’d found his space as bi. Good for him.

I wasn’t bitter.

“More like I’m his caregiver,” Abbie deadpanned, and Alex fake-growled at her. Then, she stood, wiping her hands on her jeans and offering me a hand to shake. “Hi,” she said with a smile.

“I’m Jazz,” I answered and shook her hand.

Her eyes widened a little, and she glanced at Alex, but then smiled.

“You like dogs, Jazz?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Sure. I mean, yes, I love dogs. I used to have a dog, and… you don’t need to know that.” I tripped over the words.

“You’re hired,” she said with a snap of her fingers.

Hired? Just like that? I glanced at Alex, but he was petting Bugsy. “Thank you.”

“Four hours a day, five days a week, longer if you want it, as and when it fits in with the Guardian program. There’s an hourly wage, it’s not much, but Carl can explain all that as to how it fits in with benefits.”

“I want to earn my own money,” I blurted, catching Alex staring at me and feeling ashamed at the anger. “Thank you,” I said again.

“Welcome to Guardian Shelter,” Abbie said and grinned. “You want to help me get Bugsy settled?”

“Yes, please,” I said, and this spark of joy lit inside me. It was a tiny thing, but it was there.

Chapter Fourteen

Alex

The shelter received mostof its funding from the Guardian coffers—what remained of my inheritance—but after the whole my-family-hates-me legal mess cost me nearly everything I had left; I didn’t have an endless amount of money anymore. So, we raised the rest for this satellite to Guardian Hall through fundraising. The shelter was my baby and, although it was rare for me to step away from the administrative side of Guardian Hall, to immerse myself in the hands-on work at the shelter, when I did, it was the best kind of day.