Page 1 of Arranged Hearts


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ONE

JOEY

“Have you considered you are just a pussy-ass bitch?” The words echo from behind me. Loudly. I stand still, the drink in my hand swirling as I move it.

Calm.

That’s what I need to be.

Otherwise, I will turn around and put a bullet in his ass.

Or head.

Either will do.

“Lucas,” Keir warns.

“But for real, clearly he let Adora go when we all know Joey could have stopped her if he wanted to,” Lucas replies, really grinding into my remaining patience.

He isn’t wrong. I could have, but a part of me didn’t want to. Not for the fact that she ran away, but because I couldn’t hurt her.

I hate that.

I hate that she pulled these emotions from me. That I let her, and now…

A knock sounds at the door. Not even waiting for a second, I get up to answer it because it’s better than sitting in this house I shared with her, discussing how we plan to kill her.

When I pull it open, a man is standing there. He eyes me nervously before he shoves a leash at me that’s attached to a small, out-of-breath, tan French Bulldog.

“What the fuck?”

“Are you Joey?” he asks.

“Yes, but I’m confused as to why the fuck you just handed me this.” I try to pass the leash back, but he shakes his head and backs up.

“Adora left a message. She said, ‘Give him to my husband, he loves dogs.’”

Her name leaving his lips shocks me, so I step up closer, my chest almost slamming into his. “You spoke to my wife?”

His head shakes back and forth frantically. “No, no… I didn’t. I told you I had a message, a-and it was signed from Adora. Here, take it.” He pulls a letter from his pocket and tosses it at me, then flees down my steps, almost tripping over his feet on the way.

“Whose dog is this?” I ask him before he’s out of sight.

“My co-worker, Becca.”

“What’s the dog’s name?”

He smirks as he reaches the bottom step. “Fendi.”

“Really?” I deadpan.

“Yep, really. She’s needy, word of warning.” Then he’s gone.

And when I look down, two big brown eyes stare up at me.

“What the fuck am I going to do with you?” The dog, of course, doesn’t reply, it just looks up at me with curious eyes.

“What the fuck is that thing?” I turn to find Lucas standing there, a bowl in his hand as he eats all my shit.

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