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“What news?”
“About Dalton Moore?”
The name rang a bell. She was crouching near the cages when it suddenly came to her. How could it not? Dalton Moore was a guy she remembered from high school. A bully. He’d been in the same grade as her, but he’d been three years older. He’d ended up repeating some years because he’d failed them or missed too much time. She wasn’t even sure if he ever graduated.
She’d tried not to think about him for a very long time. He’d been cruel. Not only had he constantly called her fat, and every other word associated with being overweight, he just liked to humiliate her. She remembered one time in senior year, finding a brown paper bag in her locker with eyes cut out, no hole for the mouth. Dalton had been there. He’d wrapped his arm around her neck, not too tight, almost friendly, and told her as loud as he could, that if she wanted him to fuck her, that was the only way it would happen. The laughter had rung out.
Emily was used to it and simply pressed the bag into his chest, not caring as it fell to the floor, then grabbed her books and left. She learned long ago not to cry in public or show any kind of weakness. The moment she did, it all got worse.
She waited until she got home to allow the tears. Her mother was useless when it came to emotions. Growing up at the trailer park, her mother had been a selfish person. She liked nice things, but she didn’t like to work for them. Emily had lost count of the number of boyfriends her mother had, all of them seeming to come from wealth. Her mother had been a gorgeous woman, but her looks had slowly faded, and as they did, the men didn’t want to come around as much either.
“I remember him,” Emily said.
“Yeah, that’s right, didn’t you two go to school together?” Casey asked.
She nodded her head.
“I wonder why he’s back. I heard the news from Diane, who says he’s looking so fine. Like, melt-your-panties fine.”
Dalton had always been a good-looking guy in a nontraditional sense. He’d been a rebel from the wrong side of the tracks, but Dalton didn’t know that she knew he had a hard life. With her years of rescuing, she had seen and heard some of what Dalton had gone through. She’d even tried to call Social Services to help him from time to time, but no one ever took the calls seriously—either that, or they were afraid. It was a secret she was going to take to her grave.
“Do you think this little guy is ever going to get rescued?”
“Emily, baby, I’m surprised any of these dogs want to be rescued from you. You love them too much.”
She laughed. “Thanks.”
“Besides, Bernie is a cutie. There will be someone out there who’s going to love him. Come on, I know you. Rachel told me I’ve got to make you leave on time tonight. She doesn’t want you burning out. She knows how bad this job is.”
Reluctantly, Emily left.
She spent most nights at the shelter, so she was there in case any of the dogs needed her. It’s not like she had much to do at home anyway.
Casey insisted on escorting her out of the animal shelter and waited until she was safely in her car. She turned over the ignition, and just as she was about to pull out of the parking lot, her cell phone rang.
She was tempted to ignore it, but if it was her mother needing groceries, she would hate herself for not responding sooner. Emily didn’t have much cash, but she did what she could.
Pulling her cell phone out of her tote bag, she saw it was indeed from her mother.
“Hey, Mom, what’s up? Do you need groceries again? I’m heading to the store now. I can pick something up for you.”
“Hello, Emily.”
She’d recognize that voice anywhere. It didn’t matter how long it had been since she last heard it, Dalton Moore’s voice was etched on her brain.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“It’s simple. Come to my house immediately, or I’ll have your mother arrested for theft.”
With that, he hung up. The next thing she received was a text with his address.
****
Dalton waited for Emily to arrive.
Everything was moving nicely. For the past eleven years, he’d been waiting for this exact moment. He always planned to come back to his old town, to where all the shit began, as a fucking king. Not only was he a king, but he knew the underbelly of this supposedly sweet town hid a drug ring—one that had nothing to do with him—and he was going to fix that.
This town belonged to him now.
