Page 14

Rocco
“Since when do you care about God’s furry creatures?” My younger sister Lindy exclaims when I pull my car into an animal shelter a few towns away from our house. “Who are you and where’s my brother?”
It’s been twenty-four hours and radio silence from Nico. I haven’t left the house since I got back from our road trip to the farm, but today, I’m going stir-crazy. I need to get the hell outside. And I’m packing, just in case. I know I shouldn’t have brought Lindy. It was a stupid call to put her in the line of fire, but she can be a pushy pain in the ass sometimes and she insisted on coming with me. It’s not like I can tell her some wacked-out enemy family on the other side of the country is hunting me for being a traitor and a rat. It just means there won’t be a Starbucks stop in our future. She has no idea what I do and what my dad used to do, and that’s for the best. “Listen, smartass, it wasn’t me who never wanted a dog. It was Mom who said we’d never take care of a dog.”
“You aren’t exactly the type to use a Pooper Scooper,” Lindy quips. “You’re going to be okay walking a dog early in the morning and late at night? And carrying its crap in a little plastic baggie after you’ve cleaned it up?”
I shrug. “Who says anything about walking a dog? I’ve got a fenced-in yard.” Not that I’ll be staying there much longer…I just hope it’ll be by my choice and not someone else’s.
But Lindy doesn’t know that. Nobody does. Hell, I still haven’t gotten Nico to commit to specifics yet.
I figure having a dog can’t hurt while I wait to get my next directive from Nico, especially a badass one that nobody wants. He’ll be nice and pissed off. Ready to attack any assholes who come calling. A German shepherd or a pit bull. Anything that’s ready to tear the face off an intruder.
If I’m going to be a cowboy, I’ll need a dog anyway. My own hound. All the cowboys in movies have dogs. He’ll be my best friend since I’ll be all alone up in God’s country.
Between an angry dog and my gun collection, I should be okay.
At least, I can hope.
“That’s gross.” Lindy hops out of my truck once I turn off the ignition. “You can’t just let it poop all over the yard! I’ll never go to another one of your barbeques again.”
Let’s hope I make it to summertime so I can host another one of those said barbeques.
“Lindy, I brought you here to help me pick one out.” And also because I don’t want you wandering around by yourself in case someone decides to snatch you to get to me.
If I could’ve come up with a good enough excuse, I’d be carting Mom and Dad along with me, too. I’ve already seen firsthand what the Cinque family will do to anyone who fucks with them. And if you have loved ones?
I let out a shaky breath.
Lock them up, because nobody is safe.
They don’t just stop with the target. They take out everyone.
We walk to the front door and pull it open. A bell chimes overhead, but nobody comes running. I hear a lot of barking — deep and menacing, shrill and high-pitched.
I’ll take deep and menacing any day of the week, thank you.
Lindy claps her hands together. “You know what kind of dog you should get? A lab! They’re so sweet and friendly!”
“Yeah, sweet and friendly isn’t really on my list of dog selection criteria. I’m looking for one that’s a little more…deadly.”
Lindy furrows her brow. “What the heck for? I thought you just wanted a companion. Not that you don’t have enough of the female human variety,” she says in a sly voice, poking me in the side.
“Whoa, whoa, now,” I say holding up my hands. “I don’t talk to you about your…you know…stuff, and mine sure as hell isn’t up for discussion. You’re my baby sister, for Christ’s sake.”
Lindy giggles. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t offering to tell you about my…” she clears her throat. “Stuff.”
“Thank fuck for that.” I tap the top of my sneaker on the shiny floor tile and look around. “Is there anyone here besides the animals?” I peek down the hallway, but there’s no sign of a person. Just a lot of yappy dogs competing for air time. There’s a bell hidden behind a plant on the desk, and I smash my hand on it.
I finally hear footsteps.
Click, click, click.
I roll my eyes, drumming my fingertips on the desk, when the clicking gets louder. Before the person appears, I let out a frustrated sigh. “You know, we’re here to help an animal in need. Would be nice to—”
My breath hitches as a pair of ice-blue eyes sear through me.
Oh, Christ. I’ve fantasized about those eyes…and everything else that comes along with the package standing in front of me.