Chapter 8 #2
“And leaving cupcakes on the steps as a tribute to the demon?” I ask.
“Probably the smartest idea other than avoiding the place all together,” Uncle Gio says. His eyes get dark. “Stay the fuck away.”
Thiago’s father claps his hands. “We should all go to mass on Sunday. We need all the help we can get. Six of my guys got roughed up at the dock last night, and our merch was stolen. Some of our allies already found the merch on the streets and are trying to gather it up. But the more we look at it, there’s only one conclusion—the Four Families are under attack.
“Right now, your moms are on the case, trying to figure out who’s leading the attack. Don’t ever underestimate women who spend all their free time listening to murder podcasts. They’re in a better situation than the FBI.”
“What do we do?” Uri asks.
“Business as usual until we get some firm answers.”
Donny rolls his eyes. “This could’ve been an email.”
I agree.
One by one, we leave the shithole we gathered in for absolutely no reason. We return to our lives. I spend a few minutes on the train catching up on work messages. This whole day is annoying. Hell, this whole week has been one hassle after another. Why do I even bother with anything?
Blinded again by the transition from the subway to the real world, I blink a few times until everything clears.
My skin feels like thousands of ants are crawling on it.
Between the guy selling hot dogs on the corner and the bodega cat in the window, I see threats everywhere.
Over the years, I’ve gotten used to the constant looking over my shoulder, but I’ve never been overly cautious about it.
I only have me I need to take care of. But now it’s different, and I can’t place why.
Rounding the corner, I see Jenny and Kingston, but red flags send alarm bells. He’s cowering behind her; his ears are back and his tail… no, it’s not curled. It’s flat and hanging low.
I pick up my pace and am next to them in an instant. When I bend down to pet him, he doesn’t leave Jenny’s side. I wish I had treats or something to bribe him. “What’s wrong?”
“He hates the vet and doesn’t want to go in.” She bends down and meets my gaze. Her concern is marked all over her face. Is she worried about the dog? “Do you like going to the doctor?”
“No.”
She scoops him and holds him near her chest. “Neither does he.” She motions with her chin. “Can you get the door?”
I do, and I feel like I’m betraying my dog.
His head is on her shoulder as he watches me, looking up, and I can see the whites of his eyes.
It’s awful. His ears are soft as I pet him, but Jenny stops short, and her back presses against my chest. Kingston quivers in her arms, but the heat from her body pressed against mine warms my soul. Weird.
She puts him down as she talks to the receptionist, and Kingston scrambles to his feet, slipping and sliding as he tries to hide under the chair while still searching for an escape route.
“Does he need to do this?” I feel like this has to be animal abuse. He’s normally a smiling, happy dog but seeing him like this breaks my heart.
“He needs the shots if I’m going to keep walking him, and he’s legally required to get the rabies shot,” she informs me from the counter, her arm being pulled by the dog.
I put my hand out under the chairs. He sniffs it and gives me a tiny lick.
His ears lift for a second but then flatten back down when another dog barks.
His fur is soft between my fingers, but I can feel his entire body vibrating and his racing heart.
How fast do dogs’ hearts beat? Is he going to die of fear?
A tech in hospital scrubs comes around the counter and leads us into a waiting room. It’s small with a metal table in the center, and the whole room smells too clean. It’s unsettling. The tech oohs and ahhs over how sweet and cute he is. At this point she’s stating facts.
“Is he going to be okay?” I ask
The tech opens her mouth, but Jenny puts her hand on mine and replies.. I don’t hear the answer because I’m struck by how warm and soft her hand is. And there’s absolutely no burning feeling in my belly as a result. Nope. I’ll ignore that. It’s not real.
But she keeps her hand on mine while the tech continues to check on the dog, who keeps whimpering and shaking.
His whole body is still but quivering at the same time.
She’s whispering sweet words to him, but it’s not getting through.
He keeps looking between Jenny and me, like we’re the only ones who can save him.
A door on the other side of the room opens, and the vet walks in. He has the most punchable face I’ve ever seen—puffy blond hair, green eyes, kinda looks like a rejected superhero, but in real life. Worst of all, he lights up when he sees Jenny. Not the dog. And he doesn’t even look at me.
His lips curl into a smug grin. “Hey, Jenny. I like the new hair.”
She swallows but keeps her focus on Kingston. “Thanks.” There’s an iciness to her voice I heard yesterday when she was yelling at me. But this isn’t anger—more like she’s keeping a protective barrier up between them.
He reaches for Kingston, and the dog scrambles away, slipping off the metal table. The fuckboy doctor grabs my dog before he hits the ground, but a loud, blood-curdling scream escapes from Kingston. It sounds like a woman being murdered, and it’s the worst sound I’ve ever heard.
“What the fuck did you do to my dog!”
And it isn’t a one and done scream but constant and louder than the last. There’s pain and fear in each cry.
Completely ignoring me, the vet puts Kingston on the table. I’m about to reach for my gun and blow this motherfucker’s head off, but my dog lifts his head toward me and won’t put down his back leg.
Instead of killing the vet, which I should, I scoop my little twenty-pound dog in my arm, rubbing the leg that he won’t put down.
Jenny wraps her arm under mine. “Klee Kai’s have a hip that sometimes pops out of place. It’s painful and scary, but if you can push it back into place, he’ll be fine.”
Kingston struggles against my chest, and I bury my head in his fur, making soft circles on his hip.
The joint clicks, but he’s still shrieking.
“Shh. You’re scared and hurt, but it’s going to be ok,” I whisper to him, holding him close.
When I was ten, some neighborhood guys kicked the shit out of me, for reasons I still don’t understand.
But Nonna found me, pressed an ice cube wrapped in cloth against my forehead and let me cry.
She told me I was a good kid my mom would be proud of and didn’t deserve this pain.
Twenty years later I’m telling my dog, “You’re such a good boy.
Best boy, it’s okay to be scared, I’m right here. ”
His shrieks slow, with longer breaks before the next one starts. He tries to lower his foot down on the table but doesn’t trust it. It hovers over the surface before gently touching the ground and lifting back up again. He tests it a few more times; his screeching slows down.
“I’m proud of you.” Words I wish I had heard growing up but feel honest.
He finally puts his foot down completely, and the howling stops. His ears perk, and his mouth opens—he’s smiling. That’s my little guy.
“I’m sorry about that.” Fuckboy Vet looks like he’s seen death come within inches of him. Then I realize he sees my gun, and yeah, his assumptions are correct. I haven’t taken a trip out to the pig farm recently, but for this asshole, it might be worth it.
There’s a squeeze on my arm, and I remember Jenny and the tech are there. I point my finger in the vet’s face. “You never fucking touch my dog again.”
The tech steps beside the vet. “We need to take him in the back and give him his shots and finish the checkup.” She pets his head, and his tail is still flat, but not wrapped under his body like it was a moment ago.
“I’ll take him back.” At least she didn’t try to kill my dog. I loosen my grip on Kingston.
Jenny squeezes my arm again and steps forward. “Thank you.”
The nurse lifts Kingston, who whines, and carries him in the back, leaving me, Jenny, and the vet, who opens his mouth to speak.
“No. You don’t get to talk. Not to me, not to her, and never to my dog again.” In a low growl, I utter, “Go.”
The vet swallows and nods before heading into the back.
Jenny takes in a big breath and continues to hold my arm. “The thing about Klee Kais is, they are very melodramatic like Huskies. He was scared, and you did everything right.” She rests her head on my shoulder and my stomach flips. “You’re a good boy, I’m proud of you.”
“Are you making fun of me?” The emotions are far too raw.
“No. I am proud of you.” Her voice is sweet and honest.
Kingston barks from the back office, and finally he returns, but something is wrong. A stench of shit and death and concentrated evil fills the room. “Klee Kais also release their anal glands when they're scared or angry,” Jenny whispers.
The vet has a brown stain on his white coat and a sneer on his face.
My dog is cute, makes me invisible to others, and unleashes chemical warfare on his enemies. He is the best boy.
Vet Fuckboy grumbles, “Checkup is all good, nothing to report, he’ll need refills on his meds.” He pauses and his eyes drift over Jenny. “I was going to give you a call sometime.”
The fuck he was.
“Didn’t I tell you not to speak?” I warn in a low tone. “She’s with someone,” I add without thinking.
“Yeah, I can see that.” He swallows and sneers as he takes in a deep breath, another whiff of evil lingering in the room. “You can check out.”
“If you think I’m paying for an examination where you dislocated my dog’s hip, you’re fucking nuts.”
He nods. “I’ll talk to the front desk.” And he heads into the back room, leaving me alone with Jenny and Kingston.
I squint my eyes. I’ve got a bad feeling, well lots of them, but I think I’m being scammed. “Does he really need these meds? Or am I getting ripped off.”
“Do you want fleas?”
“No.”
“Then get the meds.”
She looks three shades of green as Kingston jumps on her legs. “Boy, you smell awful.” She covers her nose and nudges him off her.
The tiny room isn’t helping the situation either. I hand her my credit card. “You go pay for the meds; I’ll take him outside.”
Once Kingston and I are out on the street, where it smells more like the city than shit, he puts his front paws on my legs and his smile returns.
His big brown eyes are bright and waiting for some attention.
His tail is back in a curl, and it’s even moving side to side.
Is he wagging it? It’s a tiny movement, not one of those massive golden retriever tail wags.
This dog keeps getting better and better.
Jenny steps out onto the street and sniffs again. “You need a bath.” I sniff under my arms; I’ve been sweaty all day, but yikes. She shakes her head and punches my arm, “Not you, the dog.”
“I don’t think he’s going to like that.”
“He’s not,” she says, and rubs his ears. “But after you do something you don’t want to, you get a reward.” She pats my shoulder. “You too.”
For a second, my mind flashes to her mouth wrapped around my cock, and I feel dizzy. Shit. Everything about this could be a massive mistake.
Or the best thing that’s ever happened to me.