Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 69582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
I looked sideways to where Hopps had come to stand beside us. But it wasn’t Hopps that’d spoken, but Thumper, the prospect that’d been eating breakfast before he headed on shift with another club brother, Koen.
Koen owned a construction business in town, and Thumper had been working with him since Koen’s work had exploded.
“What?” I asked. “How do you know?”
Thumper pulled out his phone and swiped a few times.
He showed me a photo. “My mom’s friends with this kid’s mom. That dog.” He pointed toward the back of Boone’s truck. “Is the same one. Been missing for four days.”
“Great.” I scrubbed at my face, then dropped down to my haunches and said, “Lose the boot. Let’s make sure that your foot is good.”
She took the boot off just as Wendy came out the door and headed straight for her mother.
At least, I thought she was headed toward her mother.
She got close but had veered toward me instead at the last second.
She threw her arms around my neck and squeezed. “My donuts are on the ground.”
I looked at Constance and widened my eyes.
Awkwardly, I patted Wendy’s back as Constance’s face went soft.
“We’ll get you some new ones,” I said. “But I need to check your mom’s foot. She’s been a constant drain on my resources lately.”
Constance scoffed.
“First puking in my bushes. Then getting bitten by a dog in front of me.”
“Coco is a handful.”
I couldn’t stop myself from laughing then.
Wendy reluctantly let go, and I was able to check out “Coco’s” foot.
“It looks okay.” I swept my thumb over some bruising. “No broken skin, thankfully.”
“Thank goodness Grandma made us put on clothes for the snow!” Wendy declared.
I helped her put her sock back on, and she put her own boot back on.
While she was doing that, I said, “I’ll run her over to the donut shop.”
Constance looked relieved as I caught Wendy’s hand and led her past the scattered remains of her original breakfast.
She looked at the cherry-iced donuts longingly as she said, “Those were the last ones.”
I squeezed her hand. “I think they might ice some more for us, don’t you think?”
Wendy looked hopeful as I led her into the shop.
The shopkeeper was the same woman who’d complained earlier about the dog and my “harshness.”
Great.
“Do you have any more cherry iced?” I asked.
“They got the last ones,” she apologized.
Even though she didn’t look very apologetic.
In fact, she looked like a bitch.
“Could you make some?” I asked.
“I…”
“We can.” Another woman came out of the back. “Is her mom okay?”
I nodded. “Just shaken. Luckily, she was wearing boots.”
“Thank goodness,” she replied, looking sad for a moment as she looked down at Wendy. “I’ll go run back here and make you some. You said cherry iced?”
Wendy nodded excitedly. “Yes!”
The simple joys in life.
I wish everything could be erased for me by some cherry-iced donuts.
“How many do you want?” the original lady asked sulkily.
“Do you remember their original order?” I asked.
The woman snorted.
I looked down at the little girl. “Do you remember what y’all got?”
She tapped her lips with one tiny finger. “No, but one of everything should do.”
I barked out a laugh, surprised and happy to see that she was bouncing back okay.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
The door banged open, and our donuts were waiting for us, already boxed. “I added a few more in here for you, on top of what she originally ordered.”
I blew out a relieved breath. “Thank you. How much do I owe you for them?”
She waved the words away with a sweep of her gloved hands. “Nothing. I’m just glad that she’s all right. That was pretty scary.”
“It was.” I thanked her. “Have a good one.”
When we got outside, Wendy clung to me like glue.
“Where did that dog come from anyway?” Wendy asked, looking around warily.
I reached for her hand and tugged her closer, just in case.
I had no clue where the dog came from, or why it’d gone after her specifically.
Maybe it was because she had food?
I didn’t know.
What I did know was I didn’t like how I felt seeing her in danger. I also didn’t like how it felt to hold Wendy’s hand.
It was doing stupid, weird things to my chest that I didn’t appreciate.
Fourteen
The only positive thing about being an adult is being fairly certain there is no monster under the bed. Hopefully.
—Constance to Odin
Constance
I dropped Wendy off at school quite a bit later than I intended, then went home to grab a distraction.
That distraction being Possum.
At least when I had Possum with me, I wouldn’t dwell on what had almost happened earlier.
At least, not the entire time.
My mom eyed me as I came into the rehab facility, half her attention on me, and the other half on the wolf juvenile she was trying to get to eat a chunk of meat.
I waved her off, knowing she was worried about me after I’d called her to tell her what happened earlier.