Off Chance (Off 5)

I focus my gaze on Capone and he looks back at me with his soft, brown eyes. My heart melts even further, and suddenly I could care less that I'm homeless and have just a set of surgical scrubs to my name. I have my best friend with me now, and with that, I can accomplish anything.

Gratitude for Flynn's help overwhelms me and I look up at him. I hope he understands the sincerity in my voice when I say, "Thank you."

"It was nothing."

Reaching out, I grab a hold of his wrist. His gaze flickers down briefly to where we are touching and then back to me. "No... it was everything to me. Capone is the most important part of my life and I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't found him."

To prove he is in puppy heaven, Capone rolls over on his back and bares his belly to me. I start to scratch him there and his eyes roll into the back of his head. Taking a moment, I grab each paw and run my fingers over the pads, checking for cuts. He seems to be good and I sigh in relief he hasn't been hurt.

Flynn rocks backward from his squat and sits down on the grass across from us. Gazing over my shoulder to the burned-out house, he says, "I assume everything you owned was in there?"

"Yeah. Just clothes though. Nothing much."

"What about money? Credit cards? ID?"

"Nope," I say but I don't elaborate further. Juice had taken all of my money except for a small, secret stash I left at a friend's house, I've never had a credit card in my life and I didn't have any ID. When I left home at the age of eighteen, I changed my name but not in a formally legal manner. As far as the real world knew, I was still Anne Marie Cleeden. As far as my world was concerned, I was Rowan Page and had been from the day I stepped foot into New York City.

I've never needed an ID because every job I've worked has always been for cash under the table. Never filed a tax return in my life, but then again, I couldn't... Rowan Page doesn't really exist on paper.

"So where are you going to stay? Can I give you a lift somewhere?"

While I'm gratefully appreciative of the help that Flynn has given me, it's time to part ways. I'm a loner and I hate relying on anyone but myself. So the lie falls easily from my lips. "Sure... I have a few friends I can crash with until I can get back on my feet. You really don't have to hang around here."

Flynn gives me a smile. "Well, at least let me give you and Capone a ride."

I shoot him back an equally nice smile so he doesn't sense my lies. "Oh, no need. I'll just call one of them to pick me up."

Reaching into his pocket, Flynn pulls out his cell phone and hands it to me. "Here... give them a call and I'll wait with you."

When you've lived on your own the way I have, and when you've had to scrape, scrabble, and lie just to survive, I never even hesitate in carrying out my duplicity. Taking the phone, I punch in a fake number and hold it to my ear. I wait a sufficient time for my "friend" to answer and then I carry on a conversation purely for Flynn's benefit.

"Hey Lori! What's up, girl?"

I wait a few moments, pretending to listen to my "friend". I even glance at Flynn and motion with my free hand that she's a chatterbox.

"So listen... I need a place to crash for a few nights. Can you take Capone and me in?" Glancing down at Capone, I give his belly a pat. "That's great. I knew I could count on you. I'm at Juice's house. Okay... see you in about twenty minutes."

I pretend to listen to my "friend" chatter for a few more minutes, rolling my eyes at Flynn. Then I give a fake goodbye and hang up.

Handing the phone back to Flynn, I say, "All taken care of. Lori will come get me. You can go ahead and head home now. No sense in waiting."

Flynn just holds the phone in his hand and watches me for a moment. His perusal makes me a little nervous but then he stands from the ground. "You're sure you don't want me to wait with you?"

Shaking my head and giving him a reassuring smile, I tell him, "No. Honestly, we're good. Capone and I will just hang here and wait for Lauren."

Something flickers in Flynn's hazel eyes and he says, "I thought you said her name was Lori."

Shrugging my shoulders, I don't miss a beat. "It is... Lauren's her full name. I call her Lori sometimes though."

Flynn shoots me a grin that pulls his dimple out in full force. He punches something on his phone and then holds it out to me. I can see from the face of the phone that he's redialed the number I called and then pushed the speakerphone button so I could hear.

The recording comes through loud and clear. "We're sorry but you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please hang up and try your call again."

Fuck. Busted.

But I don't even have the grace to be embarrassed. I shrug my shoulders and smirk at him. "So what? You caught me in a lie. Not the first I've told."

He doesn't even bother to chastise me. "So where will you stay tonight?"

"I'll figure something out. I always do."

Flynn stares down at me, his eyes flicking from me to Capone. When they land back on me, he says, "Come on. You can stay at my apartment tonight and we'll figure out something to do."

"No. No way. I appreciate it but not going to happen."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't like owing people and I don't go home with strange men."

"I'm not a strange man. I just saved your life this morning."

Shrugging my shoulders to tell him I don't care, I say, "I don't need any help."

Flynn gives me a wry laugh. "First, you do need help, and second, you won't owe me a thing. Just consider this something I want to do out of the goodness of my heart."

Anger surges through me for a split second, and my voice is cold. "I'm not a fucking charity case."

I expect Flynn to back away from my wrath, because I can be a mean bitch when I want to, but he just offers me another smirk. "I don't consider you a charity case. I have no doubt you can take care of yourself. But think about this... Capone is probably exhausted and he could use a good meal. If you won't accept my help for you, how about accept it for him?"

I stare at him hard for just a moment, casually noting how the late afternoon sun makes his eyes glow. My resolve is weakening, only because I'm tired, hungry, and I'm finding my own pride may have some limits. Then my eyes go down to Capone. He's sound asleep on his back, my fingers grazing the hair on his belly. I can't help the dopey smile that comes to my face just by looking at the bag of fur lying there, and I'm sure my expression tells Flynn that I've just capitulated.

Rowan Page is one tough nut. If it were just her, sitting in front of her psycho ex-boyfriend's house, wearing nothing but paper-thin scrubs and faced with spending the night in the streets, she would have never accepted my help. But it was a slam-dunk move for me to bring her dog into play. She cares more about that beast than she does about herself and I have no shame in using that against her.

"Well, let's get going. I'm going to need to stop at a store to get some dog food."

I hold my hand out to her to help her from the ground. She ignores it and springs up from the grass on her own. We walk silently to the car and Capone follows. Even as tired as I know she must be--even as beat-down as she must be feeling--I'm amazed that she walks with her shoulders straight and her head held high.

Rowan opens the back door and motions for Capone to jump in. He does and lies down across the seat, apparently exhausted from his all-day adventure outside. I'm going to be cleaning out dog hair for months, I can tell.

Rowan and I get in the car and we take off toward the nearest Key Food. I briefly contemplate heading to Gateway Center so I can get some clothes for Rowan, but I'm afraid she'll bolt if I leave her alone too long.

To kill some time and try to figure out the enigma that is this woman, I glance over at her and ask, "So... what's your story?"

She looks at me sharply. "Mind your own business. My story's not that interesting anyway."

I'm not deterred, and her sta

ndoffish attitude makes me even more determined. "Not interesting? You were chained to a bed and nearly burned alive by your drug-dealing ex-boyfriend, and you're saved at the last minute by your wonder-mutt and a dashingly handsome firefighter. You seriously don't think you're interesting?"

Glancing back at her, I can see the corners of her mouth lift up ever so slightly but they never even come anywhere close to a real smile. I'm relieved to know, however, that this ball-busting girl has a small measure of humor inside. That is completely at odds with her tough persona, and now makes her a gazillion times more interesting.

I literally have no choice but to press on.

"Come on... tell me something to satisfy my curiosity. How old are you?"

She apparently thinks that's safe enough and quickly answers, "Just turned twenty-three."