Page 20

“Fuck you

.”

“See. Always so grumpy.” Best took off toward the door before Blake could take a swing, leaving him alone with Charge.

He looked down at the big dog again. He should start looking for a new place. Somewhere in Orangevale or Roseville; not too far from Highway 80, but in a nicer area, where his car was less likely to get broken into again.

This was the last of his self-involved wallowing. Once he left the kennel, he’d start acting like he gave a damn and take the first step in moving on. He’d go to therapy and fake it until the doctor assured Sparks and the general that he was in perfect mental health. That he was committing to Alpha Dog wholly.

Finding a new place was the best way to show that. It was also the least terrifying of the steps he could be taking.

Chapter Seven

HANNAH CLIMBED THE steps to her parents’ home, ringing the bell. Since she no longer lived there, she always knocked or rang the bell, and it drove her mom nuts. Holding the Chinese food she’d picked up for dinner, Hannah chuckled as she heard Uncle Miggons, her parents’ spoiled Pomeranian, barking hysterically from the other side.

“Shut it, Migs!” her dad snapped from inside the house, and then the door swung open. He looked down at her from his impressive height with feigned annoyance, his bushy white brows drawn together. He still kept his hair in a military buzz, something that hadn’t changed since he was honorably discharged from the army when she was fifteen.

“Is there a reason you can’t use a doorknob?” he asked.

Hannah stepped inside and stood on tiptoe, kissing his rough, whiskered cheek. “Nice to see you, too, Daddy. I figured it was locked. It’s not safe to leave your doors open when any crazy person could just stroll in.”

Her dad scoffed. “And I’ve got a thirty-eight that will be happy to greet them.”

Hannah didn’t bother responding. Her dad reminded her of a character from a John Wayne movie; a tough-talking man with a rough exterior and a heart of gold. At least, that’s the way her mom described him. Hannah had never actually watched a single John Wayne movie, despite numerous attempts by her parents to force one of the classics on her.

Hannah carried the bag of food into the kitchen, while her dad headed back to the living room. She noticed the slump of his shoulders and the hitch in his step, concern tightening her chest. Her parents had been in their late thirties, early forties when they’d adopted her, and they were getting on in years. After her dad’s bout with prostate cancer last year, Hannah was afraid they wouldn’t tell her if they were really sick until they had to. They tended to still treat her like she was twelve instead of a twenty-four-year-old adult.

“Hey, Mom,” she called.

Her mom was in front of the dishwasher, putting away dishes as she hummed along to Sam Hunt’s “House Party.”

“Hi, baby!” Her mom actually shimmied over before hugging Hannah, which she thought was a little weird.

“You’re in a good mood. I thought you hated the way new country sounded?”

“I just wanted something with a beat. It’s hard to get motivated to put away the dishes anymore. Most of the time, I don’t even want to wash them. Just want to chuck them and buy new ones.”

Hannah pulled back from her mom’s embrace, more than a little surprised. “You do?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Her mom went back to putting plates in the cupboard, Uncle Miggons sitting at her feet, watching her intently. “You know, I was thinking maybe for our anniversary this year, I’d drag your father on one of those senior cruises. What do you think?”

Hannah studied her mother. Her parents had never stepped foot on a boat to her knowledge or had any interest in group activities. And she’d never complained or put off housework before.

“Well?” her mother prodded when she hesitated.

I think you’re an alien who’s taken over my mother’s body.

“Pretty sure Dad will hate the idea. You know how he feels about forced socialization.”

Her mom sighed loudly, pushing her glasses up with her wrist. “You’re probably right. Maybe we’ll do a trip to Tahoe, just the two of us. He does like the area. And a good buffet.”

There was definitely something weird going on. “Mom, is there a reason for the flurry of activity and vacation planning?”

“Well, I was just thinking that eventually it’s going to be harder for us to get around and do things, and then when you get married and have kids of your own, I’m going to want my grandbabies as much as possible. Right now we’re kidless and fancy-free; figured we’d get a little wild in our old age.”

The word wild was terrifying in association with her parents, but Hannah didn’t say so. Who was she to tell her mom that her dad barely tolerated all the senior functions she dragged him to now? There was no way he was going to be down with a string of vacations. It would take him too far away from his Fox News.

“Oh, I saw that young man who saved you on the news tonight, by the way. You never mentioned how good-looking he was.”