Out on the street, Jack looked back up at the building. He shook his head as he turned back to the street, hoping he wouldn't have to wait too long. In front of him was a bus stop with a metal bench and an inch of untouched snow. He had nothing to fidget with apart from his phone, and he was in the wrong neighborhood to be distracted. At least he'd been smart enough to grab his coat when taking out the trash.

"I'm sticking you in my pocket so I can dust off a bench," he said.

"Be quick."

Jack huffed at the terse reply. Why was Sam mad at him? He didn't ask to get kidnapped. He shoved his phone into his pocket as he rounded the bench and busied himself with dusting off a spot. A soft snuffling drew his attention, and he looked up, expecting someone walking their dog. Instead, he saw a large black stray sniffing along the edge of the building. Around its neck was a reflective yellow collar with a phone number written in black and a little red heart tag dangling in front. Maybe not a feral stray, but he wasn't about to get close enough to call the number on the collar.

The dog snorted and looked up sharply, meeting Jack's eyes. Its ears flicked, and its attention went to the alley. Teeth bared and growling, it stalked toward the alley and disappeared around the corner. A pair of startled shouts erupted, and Jack took a step back, stumbling off the curb.

He was going to be mauled by a stray dog. Who should he send his farewell text to? It was getting to the point where he was going to need to set up an automated message to send out en masse the next time something happened. With a shaking hand, he raised his phone to his ear.

"So… There's a dog out here."

"I'm almost there."

The dog exited the alley and stared at Jack.

It wasn't immediately pouncing on him, so that had to be a good thing. If it came down to it, he might be able to distract the dog by throwing his phone at it. Either they'd play a little fetch, or he'd just piss it off even more.

He flinched at the sudden warning chirp of a police siren, and the dog trotted off. Sam was currently his savior in more ways than one, and he was looking forward to the mini interrogation he was about to undergo. He stepped back onto the curb and watched as the unmarked cop car slowed to a stop in front of him. He gave an awkward wave before letting himself in and brushing the snow from his hair.

"I'm gonna go out on a limb here and guess that you aren't pressing charges," Sam said through gritted teeth.

Jack stared at his lap. There was no denying the annoyance in Sam's voice. "It's just relationship drama," he said with a shrug. "One of Kieran's exes, I think? He doesn't want me seeing Kieran. Or Augie. Did I walk into some weirdo threesome thing? I don't think he's a stalker."

"Professionally and personally, I'm going to suggest you get off your ass and do something about this." Sam threw a glare at Jack and rolled his eyes at the lack of response. "I'm taking you to the station with me, so you can file a report."

Jack looked up as his stomach dropped. "I really don't think he meant anything by it. I'm gonna see what Kieran knows about him."

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

He opened his texts, keeping an eye on the tightening of Sam's knuckles. A petty part of him wanted to bring up Tara's failed camping trip with Tanned Sex God Shane and get some of the attention off himself. Why couldn't Tara have gotten in contact with him first?

If only he'd been conscious for any of her attempts to call and text, then he wouldn't have Sam worrying over him. He scrolled through the missed texts and sighed to himself. Tara had given up and declared she was on the hunt after only half an hour of trying. He shot a quick text to her, letting her know he was alive and well for however long Sam was willing to put up with him.

He moved on to text Kieran.

hey u remebr a redhed?

very chicago gangster

I know a Thomas who matches that description. He's dead. Lindsey saw his spirit pass on.

Please do not tell me he's lingering about. You may hide in the bedroom if needed.

Apparently no one had told Kieran about the fun little kidnapping Jack had been subjected to. At least Sam hadn't harassed Kieran over it. Yet.

k so hes not rely ded

kinda kidnap me

from the aly

prolly on camra

we shud watc latr

There was a long pause before Kieran called. Jack glanced at Sam and declined the call.

w sam, don't call, im safe

I see. Did this just happen?

no hour ago

was kinda wierd

I am left to believe some claims Thomas had previously made that I presumed to be drunken delusions.

tom dosnt like me seing u

said this was a intrventin

I'll take care of this misunderstanding.

You may wish to tell Mrs. Fairchild that her reading was nearly spot on, but Thomas is neither malicious nor mischievous. He is simply foolish.

k dont tell him i talkd 2u

i dont think hes all ther

His ability to function greatly depends on how inebriated he is, and it is a rare occasion that he is sober. He's prone to overdosing.

There was something about the statement that left Jack wondering what he was forgetting. "So… The guy that kinda kidnapped me—"

"Kinda?" Sam scoffed. He pulled to a stop and shot Jack an incredulous stare. "Seriously? Jack, this is not—"

"Kieran says he's pretty much a druggie and makes bad decisions when he's fucked up," Jack rushed to say. A little exaggeration to downplay the truth wouldn't hurt anyone. "So maybe he should just be sent to rehab? Can I put that in my report thing?"

"Put whatever you like, just make the report."

Jack swallowed and ducked his head in response to the grumble. His afternoon was supposed to be boring due to cleaning, not embarrassing due to paperwork. He didn't have his wallet on him. He wasn't looking forward to asking Sam to fill in the blanks.

sam makn me file report w polic

sorry

It would not be the first time.

that maks me feel gud thnx

tht wuz sarcasm

I do apologize for this, my sweet siren. I will make this up to you. I promise.

image [https://i.imgur.com/eZY0YUq.png]