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“I guess she forgot to tell me.”
“I’ll have a word with her.” With a tight nod, he continues on his way, the dog hopping along on three legs.
“What’s wrong with his paw?” I call after them.
He pauses. “Don’t know. I’m taking him to the vet tomorrow.”
It looks painful. I leave the plate on the step and get to my feet.
Quincy looks mildly surprised when I approach, but when I’m almost within reach of the leash, he holds up a palm. “Don’t come closer.”
The dog goes ballistic, barking and straining toward me.
“Down, boy,” I say in a stern voice.
The dog reacts immediately. He stops barking and sits down.
“That’s better.”
As I reach for the dog, Quincy looks like he’s going to have a heart attack. “Valentina! Stay––”
His words are cut short when the beast flops down on his side and turns on his back, all four legs in the air.
I go down on my haunches to stroke his belly. “That’s a good boy. It’s not polite to make so much noise for nothing.”
Quincy stares at me, his mouth agape. “How did you do that? No one is able to touch him but me, and I’ve trained with him for a year.”
“I have a thing with animals.”
“You don’t say.”
Smiling at the surprise in his tone, I look up at him. “What’s his name?”
“Bruno.”
“Of course it is. Can I have a look at his paw?”
He squints at me. “If he’ll let you.”
Taking the injured paw in my hand, I study the pad. A broken thorn is lodged in the flesh. The poor baby must be suffering.
“It’s a thorn.” I point it out to Quincy. “Do you have a pair of tweezers?”
“No.” He thinks for a bit. “Wait. Maybe this’ll do.” He pulls a Swiss Army knife from his pocket and unfolds a small pair of tweezers.
“Perfect.” Taking the knife, I scratch Bruno’s ear. “I’m going to make it better.”
It takes a second to extract the thorn. The area around the wound is inflamed. Handing the knife back to Quincy, I ask, “How long has he been like this?”
“He’s been limping all week. I couldn’t get an appointment at the vet sooner.”
“You’ll still have to take him.” I straighten. “He needs an anti-bacterial and anti-inflammatory cream.”
He tilts his head. “How come you know all this stuff?”
“An interest.”
Bruno rolls back onto his paws and licks my toes.
“No shit.” Quincy shoots me a smile. “Thanks for your help. He wouldn’t let me touch that paw.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“I’m not sure Gabriel is going to be happy when he learns you turned his guard dog into a drooling puppy.”
“It’ll be our secret. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, Bruno is a vicious guardian.”
He whistles through his teeth. “Come on, Bruno. Time to finish your walk.” He salutes, and walks off with Bruno in the direction of the orchard.
* * *
My homework is falling behind. I have an essay to finish before Friday next week, but I’m too exhausted to read further than one page. With what happened last night, I didn’t get much sleep. I have to meet my study deadlines. I won’t give up. I can’t. It’s not only my dream that keeps me motivated, it’s knowing that I’ll have something to fall back onto when I’m free. Charlie and I will need an income. We’re not going back to Berea. I have to build a better future for us, and Gabriel Louw isn’t taking that away.
I take a cool shower, still feeling the sting of the water on my back and butt. Since the only nightgown I owned is destroyed, I pull on a T-shirt and a pair of panties before slipping into bed.
Like the first night, Gabriel comes to me when I’m sleeping. I’m not sure if it’s the way he softly cups my breasts or the sound of my moan that wakes me, but I’m too tired to fight it. I simply let him hear what his touch does to me. I’m rewarded with a kiss on the mouth, startling me to a fully awake state. It’s nothing more than a brush of his lips over mine, but the intensity burns like a fire, and I find it…pleasurable. His mouth is cool and dry, and his breath smells of mint and alcohol, like whiskey.
Warm air blows over my ear as his lips graze the shell. “Turn over for me, Valentina.”
He lifts the sheet for me to make it easier, but my feet get tangled in the duvet at the foot. Carefully, he frees each foot, stopping to caress the bridge before planting a kiss on the sole. The tender act confuses me. I expected him to hurt me like last night, not to trail his hands gently up my body and twist my hair into a ponytail before arranging it on the pillow next to me. Maybe he will. My body tenses. Gabriel is anything but predictable. He lifts my arms and, bending them by the elbows, puts my hands above my head. A tap on my inner thigh makes me lift my head to look at him, but he cups my neck and, with the slightest pressure, pushes my face back into the pillow. He taps on my thigh again. Understanding the cue, I open my legs. The mattress dips as he gets onto the bed behind me. He doesn’t undress me, but pushes the T-shirt up to my shoulders and pulls the panties down to the under-curve of my butt.
