Honored (City Series Book 4)(3)

I had shit to take care of.





Chapter Two: Ellie


I was exhausted. I never thought I'd work with fourth graders, let alone fourth graders at an inner city public school. But there I was, day in and day out, and I couldn't have been happier.

Life wasn't perfect, but it was pretty close. I loved teaching, loved going to work every day, and loved my neighborhood. I had a great dog named Petey and a perfect best friend. No boyfriend, though. No real prospects, either. My job wasn't exactly conducive to meeting new men, unless you considered the dads of my students.

There was one guy I was interested in, but it would never happen. He was the older brother of one of my students and was more or less the kid's caretaker. He was gruff and sexy, all ripped muscles and cocky smiles, but it wouldn't have been appropriate. Plus, there were rumors about him, rumors I didn't want to get involved with.

Still, the way he looked at me. It was hard not to fantasize about him, at least a little bit. I had never met another guy remotely like him.

The day was warm, only a few weeks into the school year, and I felt good walking back to my apartment. That was another amazing perk: easy commute. I passed by Sarcone's bakery, the smell of fresh bread overwhelming the sidewalk, and I breathed it deep. I moved south, away from the school, and turned right at the corner ahead.

I briefly wondered what Chelsea was up to but decided against calling her. Chelsea had just moved into my neighborhood and was also starting a new job at a law firm downtown. She wasn't a lawyer, at least not yet, but she was working as a legal research assistant and was doing pretty well. I loved Chelsea more than anyone in my life. Even a few years ago, when things were pretty dark and I was struggling to make it through the day, she was there for me. When other people from those days slowly drifted away, she stuck around, no matter what. There was only one other person like that, but I hadn't talked to him in a while.

Yawning, I climbed my stoop, unlocked the front door, and walked upstairs to my apartment. At the sound of my keys in the lock, I heard Petey run up to the door excitedly.

"Okay, Petey, don't jump on me," I said, pushing the door open.

Petey was a big black lab, three years old, and a rescue. When I got him from the pound, he was a skinny little thing, but over the last year I had rehabilitated him back into shape. He wagged his tail, excited to see me, sniffing my body and running around me.

"Hi, Petey," I said, petting his shoulder and moving into the apartment. I pushed my door shut behind me and looked around, sighing.

My place was small but comfortable, the best I could afford on a new teacher's salary. Clothes were draped over almost every surface, and I was thankful that Petey hadn't ripped anything up. I felt bad leaving him alone all day, but I stopped by the apartment on my lunch break to take him for a quick walk. I ruffled the hair on his side and patted him as I walked farther into the room.

"Okay, Petey, feeling bored?" I asked him. He sniffed at me in response, running around in circles. He knew it was almost time for his nightly walk.

"Just a second, bud, let me get settled," I said.

Living alone could be hard sometimes, but Petey made it better. Anyway, it definitely beat finding some strangers on Craigslist, or living with Chelsea. I loved her to death, but she was a slob, and that said a lot coming from me. Plus, she was allergic to dogs, and I couldn't imagine living without Petey.

I dropped my bag on the couch and walked into the small bedroom, Petey nipping at my knees. I changed into more comfortable clothes, yoga pants and a loose-fitting sweatshirt. I went back out into the kitchen and grabbed a yogurt, pulling off the tab and taking big mouthfuls. Petey was practically having a seizure from anticipation, his tail wagging like crazy. I grinned at him as I finished my small meal.

"Okay, bud, walk time," I said, and he went nuts.

I picked up two plastic bags from the small container I had on the kitchen counter and pushed them into my sweatshirt pouch. I grabbed his leash from the small wooden pegs I had nailed up next to the front door and looked at him.   





 

"Sit down," I said. He obeyed, tail wagging like mad. I knelt down next to him and fastened the leash onto his collar.

"Okay," I said as I opened the front door. He excitedly went out into the hallway and stood there, tail wagging, as I locked the door. I grinned down at him.

"Let's go over to the art museum today," I said.

We walked down the steps and pushed out into the cool evening air. I looked down the empty block and started to walk north toward the river.

As we moved along the sidewalk, my thoughts drifted back toward college and the friends I'd lost. I wasn't sure why, probably because Richie's older brother reminded me so much of the guy I hadn't spoken to since we graduated. There was something about the way he held himself, with such easy confidence and grace, and how quickly his cocky smile appeared on his face. Even when that guy Liam was trying to do his best parent impression, he still seemed like an arrogant, caged animal. But like my old friend from school, there was something more to him, something I didn't really understand.

Back then, I was an addict. Well, I was still an addict, but I was recovering one day at a time. I was two years clean, and although I had slipped a little on going to meetings regularly, I still made it a point to get there at least twice a month. Without AA, I don't know where I would have been. More importantly, without my friends encouraging me to get help, I would never have even found the courage and the desperation to get help. I was a mess, popping pills and snorting coke and who knew what else, barely sleeping and failing all of my classes. It took one horrible night, one blacked-out and dark moment to force me to turn my shit around, but I did and I never looked back.

It all felt so long ago, but talking with Liam had dredged those memories back up. They weren't all bad, though they mostly were. More importantly, I had made it, I had survived those awful years. I had been on the path to self-destruction, but I took control of my life and surrendered myself to the program.

Petey squatted down next to a tree and did his business, pulling me out of my memories. I made a face.

"Must be nice, having a human pick up your poop."

He looked at me and seemed almost guilty. I cleaned up the mess and dropped the bag off in a nearby trashcan, and then I looked around. We were a block away from the art museum, and although Petey had already done his nightly duty, I decided we might as well finish my planned walk. I started moving again, with Petey right next to me, his tail wagging, sniffing every random spot he saw.

Sometimes, I imagined the world through a dog's eyes. There was the regular layer of everything we usually saw-shadows thrown from a flagpole, heavy green grass, granite shimmering slightly in sunlight, the scarlet red of the sunset-but there was also the smell world. Dogs existed in an entirely different place than we did.

I needed to get out more.

We hugged the sidewalk that curved around the art museum and took a left and headed up toward the river. Statues dotted the walk, but I didn't bother to look at them. I'd read their plaques a hundred times already, at least. Petey wanted to smell them, but it was getting late and I didn't want to let him pause for too long.

The place was surprisingly abandoned as we made it down toward the old water company. The sunset looked gorgeous reflected off the water, and the grass and bushes blew softly in the breeze. I shivered for some reason, although I wasn't very cold. Something felt weird about the scene, but I had no clue why. I glanced around, noting how empty it was, as I made my way up to the railing that overlooked the Schuylkill River.

I stopped and leaned against its cool, smooth metal and looked out at the water moving lazily to the south. The buildings across the way looked huge and dark as the sun began to slowly dip below the horizon. Petey sniffed at a particularly interesting spot next to me.

"Found something good?" I asked him, and he wagged his tail.

That's when I heard it. Down by the river, almost directly below me, there was a loud splash. Surprised, I leaned over the railing, letting it dig into my stomach as I dipped my head downward, my hair spilling all around me.

There, standing in the shadows of some small trees, were two big guys in black sweatshirts. Floating in the water, half submerged, was what looked like a black package, wrapped in plastic and duct tape. It was slowly sinking, and the two men were rolling another package after it.

I had no clue what they were doing. As far as I knew, dumping trash into the river was illegal, but that was probably why they were doing it quickly and quietly. I watched as they stood together, rolling the second package along the dirt and stones, and heaved, tossing it into the water after the first. There was another loud splash, and the first package dipped down below the water, with the second package not far behind it. I heard the one man grunt and say something, but I couldn't make it out at my distance.   





 

Suddenly, Petey started barking and jerked at the leash. I looked back at him, and he was staring across the lawn at a squirrel, barking like crazy.

"Petey, no," I said firmly.

"Hey," I heard someone call out, and I looked back over the rail.

The two men were standing directly below, staring up at me. I stared back, shocked at the expressions on their faces. One man was handsome and gruff with a thick beard, and the other was shorter and heavier, and was wearing a black wool cap. Both of them looked shocked but furious, as if I had walked in on them doing something terrible.