Budapest » [Clintasha]

Chapter Forty-Nine: Lucky

"You stole a dog?" Kate tapped her foot impatiently, her face planted in her hands. I could see the frustration in the taut lines of her body - she was probably envisioning the disarray and noise a young pup brought with it. And she already had one overgrown baby to clean up after.

"No! No! You're not listening!" I cried. "I rescued the dog!" I was petting the injured retriever huddled in my arms, stroking it from head to tail. It had two bandaged up legs and a shaved midsection where it bad been stitched up and sealed with a gauze. The dog even had a black eye to match mine; what a roguish pair we must've looked.

She poured herself another mug of coffee and sipped at the bitter brew. "Explain to me again how you rescued a dog?" The cup cradled in her hands, she blew the steaming broth, wisps of steam hitting my face.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "So outside the pizza shop-"

"I got that bit! Skip to the part where you actually have the dog..." She saved me the introduction, slurping at her drink, her undivided attention on me.

"The Russian dude hits the pup, the pup bites the Russian dude for acting like a dick and he drop kicks it into the road. The pup gets hit by the car, I rescue it and take it to the nearest vet-" I omitted a great deal; but she didn't seem to notice. "And then I gave it a better home!" I rubbed the injured dog on the head affectionately, careful not to put pressure on any of the bruises of cuts it had picked up. It didn't deserve what it got; poor pooch.

Kate winced. "Still sounds like stealing a dog to me. Clint, in different cultures, certain things are more acceptable - and if this guy was foreign, as you say - he may have thought it was normal to treat dogs like that..." Kate reasoned.

"And being part of a different culture makes abusing an innocent creature alright, does it?" I ground my jaw at her, vitriol flowing through my veins. "Let me tell you, Katherine-" She knew she was in my bad books, she paled and her mouth snapped shut. "-I don't care where you come from, what's happened to you or who you are, abusing anyone is never okay." I pressed a kiss to the puppy's head and cuddled it a little tighter. I was grateful the animal had no idea what she was saying. I understood the pup, what it had been through; I'd had my fair share of near fatal hospital visits, courtesy of the thug my ma' married.

Kate's resolve faltered. She shook her head and gulped her hot drink. "You know this comes at a really inconvenient time, don't you?" She gave a weak smile at the tired dog sprawled out in my lap. "It's my sister's wedding tomorrow, and you can't just leave a puppy cooped up in a flat. It would tear the place to pieces with its freneticism." Her smile saddened. "Who's going to look after it whilst we're upstate?"

Freudian slip. "I was thinking me," I blurted in a hurry, but then went back on my words. "What do you mean we? I'm not invited." I had a feeling I knew what was coming.

Kate seethed and picked up the posh invitation off the side, slipping it to me. The cornflour coloured parchment with the silver embossing and floral etching stated in bold letters that Kate was entitled to a plus one. I had a nasty feeling I was said plus one.

"I've gotta find someone to make the occasion a little more cheerful..." Kate looked crestfallen and her fingers flexed uncomfortably on the hot porcelain mug. "It's going to be horrendous. My sister's gonna be pissed because I refused to be her bridesmaid-"

"What? Why?" I interjected, not willing to let such a poignant point slide by.

"The guy she's marrying is a total dick. He's after my dad's money, I'm sure of it, the sick son of a bitch." She contemptuously slurped at her coffee. "Not to mention my dad's going to leave the apartment for the first time in months and my sister decided to have the wedding at the church where my mom's buried..." She shook her head solemnly, her eyes glazed with tears.