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Addie
“That dog bite?”
The tall man slows, stumbling a bit on the sidewalk to scrutinize us before stopping completely and staring at Pete glued against my side. My own personal bodyguard, as we sit on this shitty porch attached to an even shittier house, snarls in response to the stranger’s question. “Not if you keep walking, he won’t.”
Pete growls another warning, rumbling low and deep in his powerful throat. I stroke over his silky fur, conveying my gratitude for his protectiveness. Especially since he’s the only one left who cares enough to worry about what happens to me.
Heavy wrinkles lining the guy’s bloodshot eyes crease deeper as he squints, trying to get a better look at my boxer’s face in the darkness. Or more likely his teeth to see if they’re bared.
They’re not.
Yet.
Another step closer, and he’ll definitely discover what my best friend is capable of.
His bleary gaze flicks back to me with the look of a predator wondering if I’m prey worth violating parole. Pete barks and strains forward against my grip, making the decision for him. Apparently, the guy agrees we’re not worth the trouble and shakes his head before meandering down the concrete again. Cussing and tripping over nothing except his own too big loafers he probably received from the well-meaning volunteers at the homeless shelter two blocks over.
Relief washes through me as he departs, and I nuzzle Pete’s neck, whispering what a good boy he is against his thick ear, still tweaked up, vigilant for noises only he can hear in the steamy night air. I should go back inside instead of sitting here attracting attention I don’t want or need. But with the air conditioning broken again, I can’t take the suffocating heat. At least out here there’s a little bit of a breeze.
And at least out here there’s not Devin.
Thank God he finally passed out after his last hit, and I no longer had to pretend I misunderstood all his innuendoes about us being more than just friends. That since our parents were never technically married, we were never technically siblings. That sleeping in his room would be way more comfortable than the sofa. That if I’d stop fucking around, I could get in on the big deal he’s making with his creepy buddy Greyson that will set him up for a long time.
As I huddled on the end of the couch, my makeshift bed he was invading, listening to him talk crazy, I knew this would be my last time crashing here. I need to be gone by the time he wakes up. With nowhere to go, the effort to pack my meager belongings and wander around aimlessly seems unbearable. Uncertain if the old saying about the devil you know is better than the one you don’t is true anymore. Not likely after he grabbed my breast tonight when I repeatedly told him no. Asshole.
All I have left is thirteen dollars. Enough for one more bag of Pete’s food, since he’s the only one eating anymore between the two of us. My life’s always been hellish, but to finally be homeless, starving, and alone, I’m devoid of hope now too.
My one long shot is the kind woman at the animal shelter who helped me get Pete’s vaccinations for free. She looked the other way, knowing I should surrender him. Luckily, she let me keep my only reason worth living. Maybe she’ll have some mercy on me again and let me stay at the kennel if I help take care of the animals and clean up the cages. Doubtful but I lie to myself my idea could work and force myself to climb off of the rotting wood. Trying to convince myself with a burst of energy that she’ll say yes, and I’ll at least have a safe place to sleep without having to fight off Devin or anyone else’s wandering hands.
My resolve increases from the huge luxury SUV that glides into the gravel driveway. Just what I don’t need to be involved with—some entitled rich user looking to score. I hop up and scramble inside with Pete on my heels, attempting to keep the cheap screen door from screeching and waking up Devin. I can’t deal with him either.
“Get the fuck out here, Potter!”
A squeak from the rusty hinges has nothing on the furious voice bellowing behind me. This guy wants Devin, and he wants him now. The exact opposite of what I want. I break into a run with Pete easily keeping pace beside me and grab my backpack from the living room carpet stained beyond any recognizable color. With shaking hands, I shove my feet into my sneakers and haul ass to the kitchen.
“Where you going, sweetheart?”
Nausea churns in my stomach from the unfamiliar yet menacing tone. Any interaction between me and the big man in an expensive looking suit won’t end well, so I ignore him.
Not my dope.
Not my house.
Not my problem.
I lunge for Pete’s dog food only to be yanked backward by my tank top causing me to rip the thin red packaging.
After the life I’ve had, it takes a lot for me to cry but tears sting my eyes when the brown nuggets spray across the faded yellow linoleum. Wasting all that I have left for Pete with no time to pick them up. Pete hoovers the pieces into his mouth like a vacuum. With me having to ration out his portions to about a quarter of what he should eat, he’s almost as hungry as I am.
Beyond pissed, I spin around to the asshole who holds me against his hard body and clock him on his cheek. I only manage to hit him with the inside of my forearm without much force. Or any impact based on his laugh, which only angers me more. I take out all my fear and frustration on him, beating against his chest uselessly until a sharp prick jabs the side of my neck and everything in front of my eyes swirls in a blurry haze. The last thing I see is his ominous smile before I descend into the darkness.
Titan
I’ve never seen anything like her. Never felt anything like her either. My skin still buzzes from her slap. Rarely do I see women physically fight. The few I have witnessed pulled hair and scratched fingernails, achieving nothing but getting themselves worked up. This girl though—she went all in trying to beat my ass, and I can’t lie that her determination was sexy as hell. Fucking feral, but so damn beautiful.
I see her tenacity again as she slowly comes to. Waking up bound to a chair would make almost anyone else piss themselves, although she appears ready to go again. Ready to fight to the death. Ready to battle anyone and anything.
Even with Z lining up his tools on the tray next to her, she doesn’t falter. Her wild gaze scans the bare room over and over as if she’s missed something in her desperate search for answers.
