Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55738 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55738 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
“Afternoon,” Charles says, stubbing his cigarette out on the trashcan and then dropping it into the tray.
I nod. “What’ve you got?”
“The name of the man who took your dog and his address.”
Already, I’m mentally preparing for what I’m going to do. I’ll need to be careful. I haven’t got the law or the government on my side here. I haven’t got backup, but I don’t give a damn. Every day I’m apart from Loki is another day that I can’t even think about what could be happening to him.
“But,” Charles continues, “he’s already ditched the apartment. It looks like he’s on the move. There’s a lead—a business card for a motel outside the city. One of the other residents mentioned that Zack Taylor, the dog thief, often stays there.”
“Okay. How much for you to come with me?”
Charles bites down and sucks in a breath. “We’re getting into tricky territory here. We can’t lay siege to a motel. We should really hand this over to the cops now.”
“The cops are struggling to handle crime as it is,” I snap, with way more edge than usual. It’s not seeing my woman, not being with her, holding her, and living in the realm of unproductive daydreaming. “By the time they check this out, Zack will be long gone. I’m going either way, but I’d feel much better knowing I had backup.”
“You’re ex-military, right?” Charles says.
“Something like that,” I grunt.
“Don’t you have any buddies who could help you?”
“Maybe I do,” I snap, “but I’m not asking them.”
There are at least five guys I could call up who’d make the trip, but they’ve all got families, wives, kids, and new lives. Of the three who are no longer in the service, they all have PTSD. I don’t want to trigger any of that crap.
“Twenty,” Charles says after a pause, “but I can’t hurt anybody. I’m there if things get so bad that your or that dog’s life is at risk. That’s it.”
I nod. “Okay, good. Let’s get rolling.”
Charles hesitates. “What, now?”
“Every second I spend doing nothing is another second they’ve got my dog,” I snap. “So yes, now.”
Charles swallows. “Half now, half later, like last time?”
“Yeah,” I say, turning away. “We need to swing by my place first. There are some tools I need to pick up.”
The war drum is beating deep inside me, the reverberations traveling through my body, preparing me for what I have to do. No, not have to. I don’t have to do this. I want to. I need to. Not just to save my dog. Not just to distract myself from how mopey James has been today but to unleash some of this fury. The rage I feel knowing, deep down, that I’ll never get to be with the only woman I want.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Samantha
“Sammy,” Mom calls up the stairs. “There’s something here for you.”
I turn down my music, pushing away from the desk. I’ve spent the last two days focusing on my latest art assignment. I’m doing well at college because I’m more interested in my studies than partying and having fun. I’m not sure that’s a good thing, honestly. My peers seem to have way more social skills than me.
Walking downstairs, I find myself trying not to think about Fletcher. It’s a game I’ve been playing with myself ever since the last time I saw him. How long can I go? I’ve lost every single time. I don’t think I’ve made it longer than a minute.
Mom is beaming at the bottom of the stairs. She looks vibrant and youthful today. Next to her, there’s a huge bouquet of red roses on the table. Suddenly, my heart starts beating quickly, and my thoughts spin over and over. Fletcher somehow found my address and arranged these flowers. He feels the same! He wants everything I want!
“There’s a note,” Mom says. “I haven’t read it, of course.”
“But you want to,” I reply with a smile. “Come on, it’s okay. We’ll read it together.”
I wonder what he’s going to say. Maybe he’s going to ask me for a date. We can forget about my bad date with his son and pretend it never happened. This is just going to be about us. The scent of the flowers fills me up as I reach forward and take the small note.
My belly drops as I read. My eyes begin to sting like I’m going to cry. I feel that weak. It’s not from Fletcher.
I’m sorry for the other night. Give me a second chance? James x
“Who’s James?” Mom asks.
“The man I went on a date with a couple of nights ago.”
“You went on a date?” Mom gasps, and I remember I haven’t told her yet.
“Yeah, but it went terribly. He was rude. Or maybe I was distant. I don’t know, but I don’t want to give him a second chance. We didn’t have any chemistry at all.”