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It had been a pointless trip anyway. I’d only gotten one bar, and it kept going in and out.
Being out of cell and internet service areas was both the blessing and the curse of the cabin. Because, yeah, being out of range of anything meant that no one could trace your signals. But it also meant that you couldn’t get help if you needed it, or reach out if you needed to send an email.
Like several I was late for now.
And, well, you could say that the kind of people I worked with… you didn’t want to fuck with them and the deals you made with them.
There was just nothing I could do in this situation, though.
I was going to need to travel further tomorrow, park my ass where I found some bars, and draft up some emails for the three clients I was overdue to deliver to.
No, there was no guarantee any of them were going to be understanding. These were the types of men—and women—who were accustomed to getting what they wanted, when they wanted it.
“At least they can’t find us, right?” I said. To the dogs. Because talking to myself was probably not a good sign about my mental health right about then.
Walking over to the pantry, I pulled down one of the several giant oatmeal canisters I’d picked up at the bulk store on the way in.
Staple items were key when you were hiding out and trying not to head to a grocery store. Dried oats, rice, peanut butter, beans, lentils, pasta, and canned fruit and veg. I even had some canned meats that I had, so far, not been brave enough to venture into. They were a last-resort food for me.
The dogs had their own supply, and I was thankful for the fact that most dog foods were shelf-stable. Bags and cases of cans were lined up by the door.
I was sure they were missing their fresh meal delivery that I used for toppers back at home, but I’d been supplementing with freeze-dried toppers and broths.
Not great, but we were making do.
I just had to figure what my next move would be, then we could go back to our normal lives.
Likely not to my old home. I was accepting this somber thought more and more as the long days dragged on.
Did that thought make my heart feel like it was deflating in my chest? Sure. I’d been there for a long time. I’d worked on getting it exactly how I liked it. The dogs practically had the beach as their backyard, winding neighborhoods to take walks down and smell all the things. It was close to all my creature comforts. Namely the little independent dog store around the corner for the girls and all the take-out options for me.
I hated cooking.
And all these homemade meals of only the essentials was really just reinforcing that hatred. I was dying for pizza and Chinese. And tacos. Oh, God, it had been way too long since I’d had tacos.
Miranda nudged my leg gently, and I swear it was her way of saying It’s okay, Mom. Of the two of them, she was the one a bit more attuned to my moods, and also more likely to try to snap me out of a bad one.
Reaching down, I patted her head, then let her lick the spoon after I’d dolloped some peanut butter onto my oats. Maybe if I tried really hard, I could pretend they were something else entirely as I ate the same thing for what felt like the millionth day in a row.
Now I was getting dramatic.
It had been about a month. Maybe forty days. I was starting to lose track. Days blurred when they were filled with the same things. And, to be fair, I was never great at keeping track of passing time even back home. I was always off in my own world, working in my shop, tinkering away the days and nights.
The only reason I had any sort of schedule on the daily was because of Miranda and Samantha who let me know when they needed to eat or stretch their legs or get some loving.
Before them, I would go without sleep for two days in a row, surviving only on coffee and some crackers I had lying around, determined to get something just right, to prove that my wild ideas were possible.
The girls had been a necessary addition when the nature of my work meant that I was coming face-to-face with a lot of shady characters. Sure, I had my own specially designed weapons on me when I had a deal happening, but having the dogs with me—highly trained and very wary of strangers—was an added layer of protection.
Besides, alarm systems could be hacked and disabled. Dogs? Dogs could always be relied on to tell you when someone is getting a little too close to their territory.
