Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 27182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
I dropped to a knee, buried my face into his neck, and cried. He just stood there patiently as I let it all out.
“Thank you,” I sobbed, petting him with trembling hands. “Thank you for saving me.”
“What the fuck?!” Angelo screamed, storming out of his building when he saw me hugging his dog. “Did you let him out?!”
I tried to explain that he saved me. That his guard dog actually did his job admirably, but Angelo didn’t want to hear any of it. He grabbed Cutter by the collar, yanked and dragged him to the door, and threw him back into the junkyard.
“Stay away from my dog, lady,” he hissed at me. “I’m not going to tell you again.”
“But he—”
It was no use. He didn’t want to hear it.
That’s when Cutter and I became best friends. I couldn’t sleep at night knowing he was out there in the cold. December came and the weather got worse. It snowed a lot and I kept thinking of Cutter’s cold paws and frozen body. The poor dog was out there all night.
On the first Friday in December, we got a heck of a snowstorm. I sat in my office watching Cutter through the window, hating how cold and pathetic he looked. I had already thrown a thick blanket over the fence for him, but it was covered in snow.
The weather report said we were going to get thirty centimetres over the weekend and I knew in my heart that I couldn’t leave him out there in a storm like that.
He saved me.
I knew it was my turn to repay the favor.
I slipped out to the hardware store and bought the biggest bolt cutters I could find. Once Angelo and all of his criminal employees left for the weekend, I ran over to the fence, clipped a hole into it, and we made our great doggy getaway.
Cutter looked so confused when I tried to put him in my car, but with the help of a few cookies, I got him in.
I brought him home that night and he slept in a warm bed for the first time. He looked so happy. So grateful. We snuggled all night and I knew I had done the right thing even if that thing was stealing a dog.
I also knew that I had blown up my life. There were cameras all over the junkyard and Angelo already didn’t like me.
It was all starting to dawn on me as I snuggled with Cutter in my bed. I couldn’t go back to my job. Ever.
Angelo would find out where I lived and when he came here and saw his dog all domesticated in my apartment, he would go beyond giving me a stern look. He’d probably slit my throat.
“We have to go somewhere else, buddy,” I said as I stroked Cutter’s head. “We can’t stay here.”
I had until Monday morning when Angelo and his crew woke up from their weekend bender and stumbled into work. They’d see that Cutter was gone, they’d find the hole, and then all they had to do was look at the camera recording to know that I was responsible.
And not even my protective furry friend could save me then.
I spent the night looking up places. A small town in the mountains would be perfect. Somewhere Angelo would never find us.
It was after midnight when I found it.
The Greene Mountains in Montana.
It was perfect.
It was an adorable town with a stunning surrounding, and best of all, it was far enough away from here that we wouldn’t ever have to look back.
I packed up everything that was worth packing, emailed my boss telling him I had to quit, left two months rent on the table in cash with an apology note to my landlord, and we left.
I was kind of sad to realize that I didn’t have anyone else to say goodbye to. I had been living here for two years and hadn’t really made any friends.
My family was three states over. I’d be closer to them now.
A new start was what I needed.
And that’s what we’re about to get.
“There it is,” I say to Cutter as we pass the giant green sign on the highway. The Greene Mountains. “We’re here.”
My stomach fills with excited nerves as I put on my blinker and turn onto the exit.
Cutter looks at me and then licks my wrist like he’s telling me we got this.
“We do got this, buddy,” I say, more to myself than to him. “We got this. Greene Mountains here we come!”
CHAPTER TWO
Lucy
“The weirdo at table nine just asked me if our halibut was ocean-raised,” Jenny says, laughing as she taps the screen at our server station.
“As opposed to all of those halibuts raised in the jungle?” I say, chuckling.
“I’m surprised he didn’t ask for the fish’s birth certificate,” she says, shaking her head. “He didn’t even order it. He took the onion ring hamburger instead.”