Page 90 of Mommy

Did I say I didn’t regret shooting the owner?

I really don’t.

Even less now.

There’s wire strapped tightly around the dog’s snout, and it must have been there a while. The thin metal thread is already cutting into the flesh, discolouring the skin around it.

I’m halfway tempted to shoot the sorry fucker again, just to get rid of the anger humming in my ears, but instead, I pull out my phone.

Ezekiel picks up after the second ring.

“Yes, Sir?”

I roll my eyes.

“Come as fast as you can, I need your help. I’ll send you the location.”

A long beep tells me that he ended the call, and when 20 minutes later a car rushes onto the rest stop, coming to a halt with screeching tires, I’m not surprised when Ezekiel—and Rosemary— jump out.

Ezekiel brought his bat, but he drops it when he sees the slumped figure of whatever-his-name-was and the leash in my hand.

“You got the dog, babe?” he asks, turning to look at Rosemary. She nods and I hand her the leash.

“What happened here?”

I stuff my hands into my pockets, feeling as if I’m about to get scolded. But that’s ridiculous. I’m not the one to do reckless shit, I’m the one to clean up the reckless shit Ez does.

He seems to feel the same way, one of his eyebrows hiking up in what’s either confusion or question.

“He was gonna leave him.” The words come out in a low growl.

I refuse to see that this was not needed. This man deserved what he got, he had it fucking coming.

Ezekiel shakes his head, low chuckles peppering the cold air around us.

“I guess so. We gonna leave him here?”

“Yeah. He had no dashcam and there’s no surveillance here.” The idiot made sure of that when he tried to leave his dog behind to die. “There might be an investigation, but it’ll lead nowhere.”

The likeliness of this case being dropped like every other is higher than heaven. There are too many loose guns to pinpoint a suspect. And no one even knows mine is on the market.

“I got some sprinkles anyway, just in case.” Ezekiel says with a shrug, making me grin at his antics.

“This little guy needs a vet. I’ll call up Sam.” Rose says. She’s gone without waiting for a reply, carrying the dog in her arms.

“Can you toss the sprinkles over?!” Ez yells after her, and a second later he catches a tiny zip lock in one already gloved hand.

Grinning like an idiot, he sprinkles the corpse and then the ground around it, leaving only a little bit of cocaine in the bag.

Using the dead man’s hand to get fingerprints first, he then goes over to the bench and creates a thin line of powder on the wooden plank.

He’s having way too much fun with this.

Just when I’m about to tell him to get it over with, he throws the bag to the side into some nearby bushes. Beaming at me, he takes off his gloves.

“You’re an idiot.” I say dryly, but even I can’t help the small smile that’s tugging on my lips.

He might be an idiot, but he’s the one person I can really count on to show up. No matter what fucked up situation I’m in, I know that Ez will come and do everything he can to save the day. Or go down with me so that I’m not alone.