Over the years, they lost funding, and it became really rundown, with very few animals and only a small handful of employees. About three months ago, an anonymous donor put a hefty amount of money into it, and word on the street is, they are making some big improvements and changes. I’ve worked with the people there a lot over the last year when we come across animals that need a temporary place to live, and they are all really wonderful and very easy to work with. I haven’t stopped by since the remodeling started, so it will be nice to check in with everyone and take a look around.
A piece of cake case with zero drama is exactly what I need right now. For the first time in a long time, I actually don’t feel stressed.
“Make sure you pay attention to all the sniffling in between the screams. Kills me every time.” Davidson laughs with a shake of his head.
CHAPTER 3
Why Does Crazy Have to be so Hot?
Harley
“Pull your head out of your ass and do your goddamn job!”
Davidson snorts as we start moving at a faster pace down the main walkway of The Backyard, when we continue to hear shouting. We’ve been hearing this same commotion coming from up by the farmhouse that now serves as a visitor center for The Backyard, since we got out of the car in the parking lot out front a few minutes ago.
“Whatever happens, just make sure you don’t get in front of my shot. This is gonna be Instagram gold,” Davidson states as I glance over at him when we get to the side of the farmhouse to see him holding his phone up in front of him as we walk.
“I only agreed to let you come with me, because you promised you would help if this guy gets out of hand. Not to become Insta-famous with your two followers.”
Reaching over, I smack Davidson’s hands so hard his phone goes flying out of them. He juggles it up in the air a few times before finally getting a hold of it then shoots me the finger.
When 9-1-1 realized this wasn’t the child endangerment case they initially thought it was and found out it was just some guy at The Backyard who supposedly lost his otters, that’s when they forwarded the recording to us to see if we could help. I haven’t heard of The Backyard adding otters to their sanctuary recently, but I also haven’t been here in a while. It still needs to be treated as a legitimate case for now. The police sent a cruiser over ahead of us to make sure the situation was under control before we got here, but going by the shouting, it’s still not under control.
“You lazy motherfuckers haven’t even set up a field command yet!” we hear in the distance.
“It’s him! Oh shit, it’s the girly man!” Davidson whispers excitedly, scrambling with his phone. “Fucking hell, Harley! You’re the reason we can’t have nice things. I totally missed getting that on video.”
Looking away from him before I’m tempted to stick my foot out and trip him, I see The Backyard has added at least fifty new employees since the last time I was here, and they’re all standing around in a group at the side of the house, by the trail that leads to the dog kennels. Along with one rookie cop named Josh I worked with a few weeks ago, when an exotic parrot was taken from a pet shop. They’re all staring at a man standing a few feet away from them, flailing his arms around and losing his shit all over them.
My feet stutter to a stop about twenty feet away when I get my first look at the man from the phone call. Well, the back of him at least. After that recording Davidson made me listen to a million times before we left to drive over here, I assumed the man we’d be dealing with would be giving off more of a… I don’t know… crazy-dude-who’s-off-his-meds vibe. Skinny with gangly limbs, wild hair sticking up all over the place, possibly gross, wiry facial hair with some food stuck in it, bouncing around like he just did a line of coke, scratching at invisible itches on his skin, while he rants about his babies.
What I’m currently staring at with my mouth open is the greatest ass in a pair of jeans I have ever, or will ever, see in my lifetime. This is not some little man with an otter fetish. From the back, this is a goddamn work of art, standing at least six feet and a couple inches tall, with a broad, muscular back and tapered waist, all of it hugged tightly by a long-sleeved black T-shirt.
“You’re just standing around with your thumb up your ass during a fucking emergency!” Great Ass yells angrily again as he widens his stance and crosses his arms in front of him.
Neither Josh nor any of the employees move. They continue standing around in a cluster, eyes wide and scared as hell.
“Why does crazy have to be so hot?” I mutter with a shake of my head, the damn voice on this guy doing things to me again.
I can’t even say it started doing things to me seconds ago when I found out it was attached to someone so… impressive from the back. When the shrieking and crying stopped on the recording back at the office, and the voice was just deep and masculine, the more I heard that voice, the more the sound of it made me want to punch my fist through a wall and hump the closest object equally. It was weird and unprofessional, especially sitting directly across from my dad and brother.
“If you could just calm down for a minute….” Josh trails off as Davidson and I both groan, while a collective gasp comes from the workers.
Poor Josh. He’s young and eager to learn, and I know he’s going to be one of the best cops Franklin County has ever hired someday, but today is not that day. You just never tell a crazy person to “calm down.” Even my idiot brother knows that rule.
Crazy, Great Ass takes an intimidating step toward Josh, and I leap into action, my cop instincts still sharp as a tack. There are too many innocent bystanders, and Josh is just standing there like a deer in headlights with his hands up in the air. It leaves his service weapon wide open for the taking, and there’s no telling what this guy is about to do. Since he’s in the process of moving, I use the same tactic I was going to use if I went through with my earlier fantasy of tripping Davidson while we walked. I rush up next to the guy, crouched down as low as I can get, then kick my leg out, and connect it with his shin.
For the first time since I got out of the car, the rage is shocked out of this guy as he pitches forward without a sound, his big body slamming into the ground like a downed tree. Since I still have the element of surprise on my side, I immediately jump onto his back and straddle his waist. Quickly grabbing both his hands and yanking them back behind him, I pull the pair of cuffs I still carry everywhere with me out of my back pocket, slapping them on him.
“Boo-yah! Got that shit on video!” Davidson shouts from somewhere.
Everything happened in a matter of seconds, and seconds is all it takes for the shock to wear off and the crazy to come back out as the man starts jerking and twisting around underneath me, letting out a streak of curses.
“Get the fuck off me, and get these goddamn fucking cuffs off me!” he shouts, craning his neck to try to look back at me as he continues struggling beneath me, which gives me a quick view of his profile.
No gross, wiry facial hair with food stuck in it here. Just a neatly trimmed, thick, short, lumberjack beard surrounding some nice, full lips, with matching dark-brown hair a little on the longer side, hanging down messily over this half of his face.
Such a waste of good looks and proper facial grooming.