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“Thank you. Really.”
“Don’t thank me. I was just her transportation. This was your man’s idea,” Colter said, giving the puppy a little pet, then moving away.
“Don’t thank me,” Detroit demanded when I turned to him as the puppy hopped over into his lap, looking comically small against his tree-trunk thighs. “I think we’re gonna need to have Coach build her some steps for the furniture,” he added as she almost fell off his leg.
“Oh, wait,” I gasped as Detroit let her down onto the floor, and she made a beeline for Cat. “Oh,” I said, surprised when Cat let her walk all over him, then turned and started licking her. “I guess she kind of is the size of a kitten,” I mused.
“You have to think of a name for her,” he told me.
“Betty,” I said automatically.
“Let me guess,” Detroit said, shooting a smirk in my direction. “It’s from a song.”
“It is,” I agreed, beaming at him.
“Is Everleigh awa—“ Slash’s voice started. “Christ, how did a dust bunny come alive?” he asked as he looked down at Betty as she ran toward him, jumping all over his feet.
“Probably should have asked first,” Detroit said, looking guilty.
“Right. Because this thing is taking up so much space,” Slash said with a head shake. “How you feeling, babe?” he asked, looking at me.
In love.
Over the moon.
So full of joy that I was going to burst.
“I’m good,” I told him with a nod. “Is everything okay?”
“I just… the news this morning,” he said, waving toward the TV. “It’s all over. You might want to call your mom and sister. I dunno how far this will spread, but I figure you want it coming from you, not the media.”
“Oh,” I said, some of that joy slipping away.
“How about we take Betty upstairs and you call your mom while you play with her on the bed?” Detroit asked. “Make it a little easier.”
“Right,” I agreed. “Thanks, Slash,” I said as I stood.
Then I got to watch the hulking Detroit chase after the lightning-fast Betty across the lower level, trying to catch her.
By the time we made it back upstairs, I had a smile on my face again as I dialed my mom’s number.
I won’t lie.
It wasn’t easy.
First, because I’d been keeping a lot from her for a long time.
Second, because of the whole drug angle and the county jail parts.
Detroit had given me privacy to talk to her, which I was glad for. Because I segued from the talk about being framed for drug distribution and into what was happening with Detroit.
“He got you a puppy?” my mom asked, her voice tight.
“He did. She’s asleep on my lap,” I told her.
“And he sat with you all day at the doctor?”
“He did,” I confirmed.
