True to his word, Kieran had immediately retreated to his bedroom. There was no sound of furniture moving around, so Jack hoped it was a sign that Kieran trusted him enough to not intrude.

Or to leave.

He went about making the promised Irish coffee then poured himself more than enough vodka before looking through the fridge. He was fairly certain he'd bought some cranberry juice. He pulled out the bottle and looked again, just in case.

"Whatever," he mumbled to himself as he filled the rest of the glass with the cranberry-strawberry juice. It was just there to cut the vodka anyway.

Settling on the couch, Jack pulled out his phone and turned on the TV. He found an old samurai film and figured it would be a safe choice if and when he tuned in. He set the volume just loud enough to drown out his voice and hoped it wouldn't be a bother to Kieran.

He tapped on Tara's name and held his breath.

"Hey," Tara answered, hesitant and with more than enough suspicion dropping from her voice.

Jack went for as much apologetic uncertainty as he could. "Hey… So I'm planning on being hungover tomorrow. So, uh, sorry if I log in late?"

Tara snorted. "That's what you get for getting your loser ass kidnapped."

That was not his fault. Being the drugs in a drug raid didn't mean he went looking for trouble. Besides the inconvenience, the whole scenario had been fairly pleasant compared to dealing with Augie.

He picked at the edge of his blanket that lay over the back of the couch. "No, that was fine." He ignored her incredulous echo. "This is something else."

Tara sighed, and Jack could hear her dropping heavily onto a couch or chair. "Don't tell me you broke up again."

"No, we're good," he insisted. He shot a look to the hallway. Dark and silent. He pulled his eyes away to settle on his drink sitting on the coffee table. "Augie's finally been dealt with. It's kinda Misery Farm over here. I got the wrong cranberry juice, so even my drink's miserable."

"Good. Tell Candy, so she can gloat and get her off my back."

"Yeah, no, thanks."

"She's all 'I keep pulling these cards for you, but it doesn't make sense! Waah!' And I'm all 'Girl, it makes perfect sense. I just ain't telling you why. Just know you were right. I didn't pay attention, and things are good now. That's what those damn Tower and Ace of Cups cards were for.' Like, seriously," Tara said, ending her mini tirade with an offended huff. "Change and go with the flow. I went with the flow and it's fucking awesome. Like, I was preparing myself for some really messed up shit and needing to take up meditation again, but things are great."

Jack tried to piece together what Tara was talking about. Going with the flow with someone trying to sexually assault you? He prayed to whoever was listening that she was talking about something else. But it had sounded like Shane was the one that got in over his head. He didn't want to fish for a solid answer. Tara was behaving like her normal self and not like any of the people he'd met in a couple group therapy sessions.

On the possibly positive side, Candace's witchy insight was proving itself as a force to be reckoned with. He'd gotten his own changes for better or worse reading, and he was doing alright for himself. "Yeah, same… I mean, not with the flow stuff, but, uh, I've adjusted. I think I'm getting better at…stuff?"

"Hell, yeah. You're way less of a space cadet. It's almost like before…" She tailed off, and the sound of her moving a glass back and forth along a hard surface drifted over the phone. "Well, before. I'm seriously happy this is all working out for you."

"Yeah, me, too."

They fell into a brief silence before Tara spoke up with an extra bit of perkiness.

"Hey, you wanna dog sit my dog?"

"No, 'cuz I'll accidentally kill it." Cat-sitting for Sam and Candace once in a blue moon was fine, but a dog? Those required more than cleaning a litterbox and making sure there was food and water. "Why the fuck did you even get a dog?"

"It wouldn't even be for long. Just an hour or two," she argued. "For walkies on the beach or something. I just can't take her walking when she wants to go."

A midmorning walk during one of Tara's classes would be doable, and it would serve to get him out of the house more often. He vaguely recall a therapist suggesting regular walks, and having a dog as an excuse would make him feel less awkward walking alone. "What kinda dog, and what's her name?"

"Huh? Oh, uh… Fluffy. Her name's Fluffy. 'Cuz she's a big fluffy fluffster. Some sorta husky-mutt thing. Very well-trained. Fluffy's a good girl." Tara paused then picked right back up. "But don't call her a 'good girl.' She doesn't like it."

Jack didn't believe it for a second. He glared at the TV and the black and white samurai fighting across the screen. Everyone always said their dog was trained, then acted surprised when it tore up their house or the neighbor. Even Candace's perfect fallen angel of a cat was a hellion.

"Yeah, I know it's a dumb name," Tara said, mistaking the meaning of Jack's silence. "Whatever. It works."

He swallowed back his thoughts on both the name and Tara's insistence that the dog was well-behaved. "As long as you like it?"

"Better than Augie," she said with a snide tone.

"Better than Shane," Jack shot back with the same tone.

"Oh, my God. So much better than Shane! On so many levels." She laughed with a meanness Jack had heard only a few times before. "When you're in a walkies mood, you should take Fluffy to the woods."

The woods outside town. He couldn't leave town. He wouldn't have to worry about the dog hurting someone, he'd have to worry about Tara being hurt by someone. His panic ratcheted up in sync with the spurting blood of one of the samurai.

Blood didn't spurt out like that.

He swallowed and choked on his spit for a moment. "Sorry. I'm fine. Uh, walkies. No, I'm good. Maybe a park. The beach is good. Just not… I can't… The beach is fine."

"Okay…"

He took a swig of his drink and winced at the burn he should have been expecting. "I mean with the isolation and stuff. I really shouldn't be wandering around alone, given my track record."

"Fluffy would take care of anyone that'd try anything," promised Tara. "Trust me."

"And then get put down for biting someone. Yeah, no. Ain't happening. I don't want that on my conscience." He had enough things to worry about without worrying over the safety of someone else's pet.

Even though he knew he shouldn't worry or care, Augie's upcoming fate was still a mystery. Thomas was somewhere out there, lurking around and playing at being some sort of messed up matchmaker. And then there was the fact that Kieran's hunting grounds were apparently Jack's haunting grounds.

"Do I live in a shitty neighborhood?" he asked.

"What?"

"Do I? I mean, it's cheap. And within walking distance to the bars. The, uh, questionable bars." And some people hanging out on corners that had a particular vibe to them. "I live in the red light district, don't I?"

"Eh, you're on the edge. Pink light district. That bar going under helped things a lot."

Jack frowned as he tried to think of which bar she was talking about, and then he remembered. His bar. That shut down because Kieran killed the bar owner. He shut his eyes tightly against the thought. Kieran's night was already shitty enough without Jack adding his annoyance to it.

"Just think of this way," Tara added, "the more walkable an area, the more…diverse the crowd."

"Thanks." He hadn't meant to sound so bitter.

"Good and bad. You're part of the good."