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Dog sniffs the bowl and then crunches into the kibble excitedly once he figures it out. He cleans the bowl in about a minute flat, and then licks his chops.
“See, not so bad, huh?”
He probably hasn’t been out all day if Priest and Knox aren’t here and Ash has been ‘busy,’ so I let him out into the backyard.
It’s more grass than either of us are used to, and Dog runs around in an eager circle for a bit, sniffing everything. It’s a whole lot different than the alley he usually lives in, and he takes it all in before doing his business.
“There you go,” I say. “Look at you. Shitting in the grass like some kind of fancy dog. Bet you never thought you’d be living this good, huh?” I smirk. “I should leave that somewhere for Ash to find. Really put a bow on his day.”
Instead, I take the dog back in and watch him flop on the rug in front of the couch as if a few minutes in the grass has really tired him out.
Hell, maybe it did. You get used to something for long enough, and anything else is just weird and a little exhausting.
I trudge up the stairs to the room the guys gave me to stay in while I’m here, which is the size of my little nook and the main area of my studio combined. My shit is still in the duffel I brought it in, and it’s not like I’ll be leaving anytime soon, so I take the time to unpack. Might as well get comfortable and not live out of a duffel bag for however long this is going to take.
Clothes go in the dresser drawer, and under them are my weapons. Knives and guns that I’ve collected and carried with me since I took up this mission.
I can tell the guys still underestimate me. They don’t know shit about me or why I’m doing this. They don’t know how far I would go to see it all done.
They’ve just inserted themselves into my life and my mission, and it wouldn’t be hard to remove them if I wanted to. I flip one of the knives in my hand, catching it by the hilt. They all sleep sometime, and I could take them out one by one and rid myself of the problem.
But there’s not enough reason to take that risk right now. At the moment, our objectives align. I can always reconsider later, but for now, I’ll stick it out.
I get my room the way I want it, hiding the weapons somewhere they won’t be easy to find in case Ash or whoever else decides to come poking in my shit. Then I flop on the bed with nothing better to do and scroll my phone for a while.
I’m not used to having nothing to do, and it feels weird. Especially being in a strange place. I don’t know the area. Usually, if I wanted company, I could just walk outside and find people to shoot the shit with or scam out of a few dollars playing cards, but I don’t think the neighbors around here would be very into that.
Eventually, the intense ups and downs of the last forty-eight hours catch up to me, and I knock out for a bit, taking a nap on top of the sheets.
It’s dark in the room when I wake up, and I feel disoriented and groggy, not sure what woke me up until I hear noises downstairs.
Either the guys are home or there’s been a break-in, which seems a hell of a lot less likely. Still, I leave my room and head downstairs to check.
“Come on, you fucker,” I hear Knox say as I pad down the steps, and I come around the corner in time to see him and Priest dragging a big tattooed guy into the house between them.
The man struggles, but he’s clearly no match for the combined strength of Knox and Priest.
“Alright,” Knox says, grinning gleefully. “That’s enough. Night, night.”
He rears back and punches the guy right in the face, knocking him out easily.
Priest says nothing, and his face doesn’t register any surprise or anything. He just helps Knox pick the guy up, and they drag him off toward the basement.
