Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“No. Or… maybe,” I said, kicking myself for not having a story at the ready. Since I wasn’t exactly being honest with the Family about Millie. Or, you know, letting them know she existed at all.
“How’s it maybe?”
“Found him in the woods,” I said, shrugging. “On the last job,” I added. “He was dumped with his littermates. They didn’t make it.”
“Motherfucking monsters doing shit like that to puppies,” Brio snarled.
While Brio was our “heavy” when it came to torturing or murdering people who needed it, I had a sneaking suspicion the man moonlighted as a crusader for animal justice. It wouldn’t surprise me at all to learn that he single-handedly snuffed out a couple dozen convicted animal abusers. After enacting whatever torture on the people that the people forced upon the animals.
“Yeah,” I agreed, thinking of the puppies in the grave, the memory still making me feel a little sick. “He made it, though,” I said. “He’s a good dog,” I added, thinking of how I’d only cleaned up two accidents in the apartment since he moved in. And, objectively, those were likely my fault for being gone too long when Millie wasn’t able to take him out herself.
“Looks like a German and Australian Shepherd mix.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought too.”
“High energy.”
“He likes his walks,” I agreed, nodding.
To that, Brio nodded. “Ever wanna walk ‘em with some friends,” Brio said, waving toward his crew that was getting anxious to get moving, “I do this five days a week.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said as he moved off.
Storm yanked on the leash, making me turn to see Samantha sitting there wiggling her tail at him while snort-breathing so loud she sounded like a bull.
He played with her until her owner picked her up, placed her in a baby carriage, and carted her home.
After that, I walked him until he was beat before making my way to the pharmacy, locking Storm’s leash to a pole out front with some fancy-ass dog carabiner thing I found at the store, then ducked inside to pick up Millie’s makeup. Plus some extras. Before making our way back home.
“That poor dog could barely waddle around him,” Millie said, greeting Storm after I cleaned off his feet.
Of course she’d been watching.
I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d seen Brio, if she could have suspected anything about him.
But, no. He just looked like your average New York City dog walker. Not a mafia capo.
“Owner said he inherited her from his grandma who fed her a diet of table scraps and candy rings,” I told her. “He’s working on slimming her down.”
“Aw that’s kind of sweet. You better still love her when she has a makeover, mister,” Millie said, giving the puppy a stern look that had my lips twitching. “Alright, let’s see how you did,” she said, grabbing the bag from me, and slowly making her way over to the living room couch.
“So?” I asked as she opened each type of makeup with her teeth and good hand then started swatching it across her arm.
“You have a good eye,” she said, nodding. “What’s this?” she asked, holding up a stick of yellow concealer that looked like a lipstick tube.
“Yellow conceals blue.”
“How… how do you know that?”
“School. Art class. The color wheel,” I said. “Yellow is opposite blue and purple.”
“Oh, right. Huh. You are full of surprises, Silvano Costa,” she declared.
She had no fucking idea.
“So, where did you want to go?” I asked as she pulled out the mirror with a stand, set it up, and started to dab on some of the makeup.
“Anywhere. Just outside,” she said.
“Want to go to dinner?” I asked. “You could get out, but still sit and be easy on your ribs. And we wouldn’t be gone too long for Storm. Unless you wanted to go out alone,” I was quick to add, realizing how much it sounded like I was asking her on a date.
And, fuck. Yeah. Some part of me did want to go on a date with her. Wanted to get back home after and seal my lips over hers. Press her against the wall and drop down to my knees…
Christ.
No.
I shook that thought off.
I needed not to think about shit like that.
It was bad enough that she was invading my dreams, leaving me waking up hard and aching, then needing to talk myself out of my desire before making my way downstairs, since I couldn’t be moving past her with a raging hard-on. And I couldn’t rub one out when she was a floor below, without so much as a wall or door between us.
“That sounds good. I’ve never left him, so I hope he’s good. I don’t want the neighbors getting pissed off.”
“He’ll be fine,” I assured her. “It will be good for him. We can’t always be around,” I added.