Page 92 of Disavowed

“Taz,” she said. “And it’s a girl.”

“Cool!” Nicky sat down next to her.

Taz woke, and after dousing Daisy’s face with wet puppy kisses leaped from her arms and began tearing around the yard with Jet.

“Look at the two of them go.” She laughed as they tumbled over each other like two bouncing, black furry balls.

As the puppies played and she laughed with her friends, one single thought kept repeating in her brain.

I’ve lost people I’ve loved before and survived.

I can do it again.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Daisy locked up the shop, pausing to look at her reflection in the glass door before pulling down the protective metal grating. It had only been a month since she’d adopted Taz, but the woman staring back at her was different. And yet not.

The outfit she wore was trademark Daisy Fowler. Sleeveless yellow blouse tied at the waist with matching capris and wedge heels. But as she pulled the iron grating, locking it into place, she acknowledged the changes in her life. Changes for the better.

Work had begun to make her smile again, as had the creativity she was enjoying with all the new contracts. Even the warm summer breeze brought with it a newfound sense of optimism.

As she got into her brand-new burgundy Jeep Cherokee she inhaled that distinctive new-car smell, mentally patting herself on the back for buying the SUV. Her old Mercedes had been a royal pain in the ass, constantly breaking down and costing her a bundle. Her only regret was that she hadn’t bought the Jeep sooner. Besides, since she’d taken in a furry roommate, she’d found she needed a larger vehicle.

Everywhere she went, Taz accompanied her. The beautiful puppy made friends with everyone. As soon as Daisy had begun walking her on the sidewalk and driving her to the park to frolic with other dogs, her social life had taken off. It was amazing how many new friends she’d acquired because Taz had come into her life. Cassie had been spot on. She had needed Taz.

She started the engine and pulled from the curb, loving the deep rumble of the motor and the Jeep’s quick responses. The vehicle also contributed to satisfying her need for a fresh start. Along with the Jeep, she had a new puppy that greeted her with unconditional love and exuberance the second she walked in her door at the end of the day. No longer did she dread coming home to an empty apartment and the soul-wrenching loneliness that stayed with her until the moment she fell asleep. She was moving on with her life and felt optimistic for the first time in months.

Just last week, she’d done the most cathartic thing of all. She’d donated ten million dollars to Lost Souls of New York, the nonprofit organization Dom had suggested.

What she hadn’t counted on was the undeniable sadness that accompanied her donation. She really had hoped that one day she would carry a child of her own. Dom’s child. A beautiful little boy or girl born of their love, and with his incredible, Caribbean-blue eyes.

Shaking off the sadness she’d worked so hard to leave behind, she gunned the Jeep toward home. The route to her apartment was uncharacteristically clear of the typical evening traffic, and she easily shaved a good ten minutes off her usual commute. She smiled as she opened the door to her apartment, expecting to hear the pitter patter of little feet as Taz went through her spirited welcome-home routine of pirouetting and prancing for attention. But she didn’t. The living room was empty.

No Taz.

Daisy stood motionless, holding her breath to listen, but the apartment remained eerily quiet.

Something is wrong. Very wrong.

Tensing, she shut the door and set her bag on the entry table. Still hearing nothing, she stepped quietly toward the kitchen. “Taz?” she whispered.

Still no sound, and no Taz.

Her heart rate picked up. She rushed back to the entry table, then dug around in the bottom of her bag for the canister of pepper spray. The can was cool to the touch as her fingers closed around the metal cylinder. She flicked up the small plastic tab, resting her index finger on the trigger. As an added precaution, she also pulled out her cell phone in case she had to call 911.

Her heart thumped faster as she headed down the short hallway to her bedroom. At the sight of her bedroom door she froze. The door was half closed. She always left it open when she went to work.

Someone’s been in my apartment. Or did Taz move the door?

Possibly. For such a little puppy, she had the thickest furry tail and was always whipping it into something. Once, that flicking tail had sent a glass of red wine flying off the coffee table and against the wall.

Hairs on the back of her neck prickled with unease, and she gripped the can of pepper spray tighter. Cautiously she nudged open the door, wincing when it creaked. Then she gasped. Her heart stopped beating altogether, and she couldn’t breathe.

She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them.

Lying on her bed, fast asleep, was Dom. Taz was curled up next to him with her head on his chest.

Both the can of pepper spray and the cell phone slipped from her hands, hitting the rug with soft thunks. Taz woke and leaped from the bed to greet her. Absently, she leaned down to scratch the pup’s ears, but her eyes never left the man sleeping on her bed. For someone so reactive to danger, it was a wonder he hadn’t woken by now.