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capacity. I’m worried, you know, one person concerned about another. I may not be in the line of fire, but I deal with fallout of days like this. I have some understanding that we’re both going to have trouble sleeping tonight.”
    His eyes narrowed, and the air between them suddenly crackled to life. “Are you suggesting we distract each other?” He paused, taking a lazy step closer. “Again.”
    And just that fast, all the walls she’d built between them these past five months crumbled. That one reckless night was right there as vividly as if someone had turned their memories into a movie, replaying in explicit, body-melting detail.
    Her skin went tight, her body aching. She swallowed hard, not having a clue how to make this stop but knowing she had to try to regain level ground between them. “AJ—”
    He held up his hands. “Forget I said that. This isn’t the time or place. We both do need to call this day over. I need to get things moving all the faster at the department in hopes of clearing away the legal paperwork keeping these animals here. The sooner I drop you off, the sooner I can go to the station.”
    The roots of her hair tingled. “Drop
me
off?”
    â€œDidn’t I tell you? Wyatt called right after Lacey left here to go home and check on dinner. He asked me to make sure you get home safe and sound. He even had my car sent over from the station.”
    AJ hadn’t been waiting around to talk to her after all. He’d been here because he was asked to escort her home. That shouldn’t sting, damn it.
    But it did. “Don’t you have to leave for the station right away?”
    â€œWyatt’s handling our report until I get there.” He spread his arms wide, inflatable dog glowing behind him. “So for now, I’m all yours.”

Three
    I’d always dreamed my first car ride would be like
Cash Cab
and I’d make it to my home, rolling in dough. But my ride got cut short . . .
    â€”FEMALE BOXER, FOUR YEARS OLD, SHELTER #S75230
    A LL MY LIFE I’d wondered what the world looked like beyond my chain. I’d fantasized that the places on television were real and I might get to experience running through a forest or sleeping in a clean home.
    Never in my wildest fantasies did I imagine I would get stuck in a Sarah McLachlan commercial of save the shelter animals—for real. Yes, I was now officially the cowering animal inside a kennel run.
    Roll the cameras.
    I’d let my guard down with the peppermint lady that the policeman called Mary Hannah. She did something worse than loop a chain around my neck. I was stuck with a needle. Then they dragged me outside and stuffed me inside a crate. I felt betrayed.
    Terrified.
    Even with the knockout drugs they pumped in my system, I couldn’t stop trembling because I’d never left the cabin or yard before. The shelter was technically better—cleaner—than my old home and no one yelled at me. But it was so foreign. I didn’t understand the rules.
    How strange that there had been a comfort in the monotonous routine of my awful past life. A talk-show psychiatrist would have said I was suffering from battered-woman syndrome.
    I just knew I was scared shitless. Literally. I pooped in fear when one of the workers put a bowl of kibble in my kennel.
    Even with the Christmas music playing, I could hear the dogs from the cabin in the other kennel runs. But they kept us separated—something about detoxing and temperament tests. I knew from my TV watching that answering quiz-show questions incorrectly meant failure. Booted off the show. No prize. Huge disappointment.
    What would that mean for me? I knew it couldn’t be good. Except there wasn’t anything for me to study, even if I could have stopped shaking long enough to ask. My heart pounded so hard it made me too ill to eat. Not that I could crawl out of my corner.
    My eyes were closed,