Chapter 42 Faith
FAITH
Axel’s entire face went through a journey. Confusion. Horror. More confusion. A touch of fear.
I followed the line of his finger to the ground.
Rainbow, bless her crooked little heart, chose that moment to come and sit by his feet. Well, sort of sit. Her back legs splayed at odd angles while her front paws did this weird paddle thing in the air.
“It’s a dog,” I said, scooping her up protectively.
“The hell it is.” Axel’s nose wrinkled like he’d just caught a whiff of expired milk. “That’s some kind of mutant. Did it escape from a lab? Should I call animal control? The CDC?”
From behind Axel, I caught sight of Ryker leaning against the wall, clearly enjoying the show.
“She is not a mutant,” I said, clutching Rainbow tighter. She responded by licking my chin with a tongue that was, admittedly, a bit too long for her mouth. “She’s a mixed breed. I think she’s a cross between a Chihuahua and a—”
“A gremlin that someone fed after midnight,” Axel interrupted, still keeping a safe distance. “Or maybe a possum that went through a garbage disposal and lived to tell the tale.”
“I was going to say hairless terrier.”
“Dude, that is not a Chihuahua mixed with terrier.” He gestured wildly at Rainbow, who had now twisted in my arms to stare at him with her unique eyes.
“Pretty sure it’s not even technically canine.
Have you had its DNA tested? Because there’s something seriously wrong with it.
Like, genetically. Evolutionary. Possibly spiritually. ”
“She’s absolutely perfect the way she is.”
“She looks like she’s been microwaved.”
I gasped. Rainbow’s ears—one pointed up, one flopped down—twitched indignantly.
“She does not!”
“Her eyeballs are two different sizes.” Axel squinted, leaning slightly closer but still maintaining his distance like Rainbow might be contagious. “One’s looking at me, and I’m pretty sure the other one’s checking out your neighbor’s yard.”
“Those are character traits.”
“Character traits?” Axel’s voice pitched higher. “She looks like her body couldn’t decide how many legs to grow and begrudgingly settled on four and a half.”
I glanced down at the suspicious lump on Rainbow’s left hind leg. “It’s a non-cancerous growth. The vet said—”
“It looks like a dildo.”
Ryker’s laughter finally escaped, a rich sound that carried across the room. Even Rainbow turned her good eye toward him.
“Seriously,” Axel continued, now on a roll, “she could join Barnum & Bailey Circus. They’d bill her as the World’s First Dog-Shaped Question Mark.”
I glared at him, my grip on Rainbow turning protective. “Are you done making fun of my dog? Because if not, I can teach her to attack.”
Axel actually snorted. “That thing’s running on a single brain cell, and it’s working part-time. Look at her! She’s licking the air like she thinks it tastes different over there. There’s no way she could be vicious. She probably barks at her own reflection and then apologizes.”
“Rainbow is … unique.”
“Rainbow?” Axel’s voice cracked. “You named that genetic disaster Rainbow? That’s like naming a dumpster fire Sir Sparkles McLightning.”
Rainbow chose that moment to let out a fart that could only be described as apocalyptic. The smell hit us all simultaneously.
“Jesus Christ!” Axel stumbled backward, covering his nose. “The dog is literally weaponized!”
Even Ryker’s composure cracked as he waved a hand in front of his face.
Rainbow, apparently proud of herself, wagged her tail so enthusiastically that her entire back end swayed like a drunk sailor. One of her ears flipped inside out. She didn’t seem to notice.
“Has she had her shots? All of them? Including experimental ones?”
Ryker finally spoke up, his voice warm with amusement. “Axel, enough about the dog.”
I locked eyes with Ryker in that moment. Was it weird that him sticking up for Rainbow had my hormones racing? Maybe. But did it change anything? Nope. He winked at me, and something in my chest did a little flip that had nothing to do with Rainbow’s toxic emissions.
When I set her down, Rainbow trotted along with her peculiar gait—three normal steps and one that looked like she was attempting the cha-cha. A minute later, she returned.
She promptly walked over to Axel’s feet and deposited the toy that had become her instant favorite—a mangled rubber chicken missing its head—right on his designer shoes.
The look of pure horror on his face was social-media-worthy.
Until a crash shattered my living room window.
Before my brain could process what happened, Ryker had me pinned against the floor, his body a shield between me and whatever just destroyed my window. Rainbow trembled next to us.
His eyes searched mine, intense and protective. “You hurt?”
I shook my head, unable to form words. His gaze traveled down my body anyway, checking for injuries until he seemed satisfied I was unharmed.
Only then did he ease back, though his hand lingered on my arm.
Blake stood by the shattered window, holding a brick wrapped in paper. His expression had gone dark.
“What does it say?” My voice came out steadier than expected.
Blake’s jaw worked as he read, “Next time, the brick won’t miss.”
“Well”—Axel brushed glass dust from his sleeve—“that escalated quickly. Still feeling brave about riding out the death threats at home?”