Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 74227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
I closed my eyes, lifted my hands, and covered my face.
Nothing happened.
Nothing.
I opened my eyes and stared in absolute shock as the dog buried his nose in my belly.
I was frozen.
The dog wasn’t attacking me. He was smelling me.
When I’d gone to leave, I’d spotted Baylor’s shirt. It was big, and hung on me—I would know because I’d tried it on earlier in the day because I wanted to smell him—and I’d decided that I’d wear it. It helped cover my body better, and there was no chance in hell my shirt would ride up to expose my skin.
Now, though?
I was thinking that it was no coincidence that I’d worn this shirt today. I’d grabbed the shirt almost without realizing the significance it would have.
And now that the dog was burying his face in my belly, rubbing his face from side to side, I realized that it had to be fate.
He dropped that shirt while I’d been watching him. I’d grabbed it today because I’d thought the black would help. Really, it was amazing how things fell into place.
Fate really was mysterious.
“Pongo?”
The dog’s ears twitched, and instead of lifting his head and looking at me, he only lifted his eyes.
That I could see in the halo of the street lamp.
“You want to go home?”
He closed his eyes and groaned—a big doggy groan that showed his contentedness.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Then we walked away from his old prison, and not once was I scared of the darkness.
Chapter 13
I love sarcasm. It’s like punching people in the face with your words.
-Baylor to Lark
Baylor
The ringing of my phone jolted me out of sleep so fast that it took me a few minutes to figure out where I was.
The phone was already in my hand and placed to my ear before I’d consciously told myself to pick it up.
“Hello?”
My hello was garbled, and sounded like I was still three-quarters of the way asleep.
“Baylor?”
I sat up straighter in bed, instantly awake despite the late hour.
“Are you okay?”
I heard a shaky breath release from her throat before she said, “Can you come over?”
I looked at the clock on the wall and saw that it was half past three in the morning.
“Yes,” I replied instantly. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” she said. “I just…I have to talk to you.”
With that, she hung up, leaving me to sit on the side of the bed in confusion.
She didn’t sound scared, or worried. She sounded…excited?
Curious now, I got up and went to the end of the bed where there was a basket of clothes that I’d seen when I got home. That only meant one thing—my mother had been in my house.
Though, she did that a lot.
It was also how I was always supplied with Little Debbies and chocolate milk.
Thankful that she’d washed my clothes, and I now had something clean to wear instead of the same sweats I’d worn to run all week, I pulled on the first pair I found sans underwear.
Moments later, I had socks, a shirt, and my shoes.
Two minutes after that, I was walking out the door with the keys to my bike in my hand.
Less than three minutes after that, I was walking up to Lark’s door.
I knocked.
She opened the door.
And I was hit in the chest with a battering ram.
I would’ve fallen had I not had my feet already braced apart.
Confusion clouded my features as I wrapped the huge battering ram in my arms and held him in place.
“What the fuck?” I looked down.
Straight into the eyes of my dog.
***
Lark
“Lark…” He paused, his eyes filled with grief. “I can’t.”
“I can draw his blood,” I blurted. “I’m good at it.”
Well, I was good at it on people. It couldn’t be that hard to do it on animals.
“I applied to work at a vet’s office. They accepted me. I start on Monday. I also made sure to take him at night so no one saw me,” I continued to word vomit. “In my previous…” I winced. “I used to be a phlebotomist. I can draw blood like a pro.”
He looked at the dog who was practically in his lap, then back to me.
We were now in my living room. Baylor was on the couch, and Pongo was in his lap. Pongo’s face was buried in Baylor’s armpit of all places, and his tail hadn’t stopped wagging in the last twenty minutes.
We’d been arguing for the entire length of time, and I was beginning to wonder if he’d ever budge.
“How the hell do I hide a dog in the middle of a city?” he asked, holding onto Pongo’s head like he didn’t want to let go any less than he wanted the dog to stop breathing him in. “Oh, and let’s not forget that it’s kind of illegal to steal a dog. Not to mention since Piper and Pruitt is a huge security firm, they won’t have a problem using money to search for him.”