Page 51 of Ricochet

“It’s okay. Come. Come in.”

Head bowed, he took cautious steps into the room, as if I’d coaxed him into breaking the rules. Maybe I had.

Once inside, he slipped past me, sniffing around what must’ve been uncharted territory for him, judging by the way his tail wagged and he dragged his nose over every corner. Inching my way backward toward the hallway, I kept my eyes on the dog as he continued to explore the room, nudging my heels off on the way. He could have them for all I cared.

Taking a deep breath, I bolted for the door and slammed it behind me, before the beast could catch me.

Fuckin’ A. Freedom. Ha! That was almost too easy!

Whimpers rose from the other side of the door. Literally, dog-crying. I’d never heard anything like it, as if he was heartbroken that I’d up and betrayed him, and like a crazy bitch, I suddenly felt bad.

Go! Go! My head told me to run.

Where, though? If I called a cab, the driver might recognize me, and then I’d be back at Michael’s House of Hell. After three days away, he’d probably already covered the furniture in plastic, waiting for my return so he could hack me into a million pieces.

Besides that, I didn’t have a phone. Didn’t know where the hell I was. Perhaps thick in the center of a shitty Detroit neighborhood, which would make the hulking beast on the other side of the door less intimidating.

With a huff, I opened the door, and Blue sat back on his haunches with something that resembled a smile.

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Shoulders slouched, I strode across the room and sat down on the bed, resting my chin on the palm of my hand.

Blue trotted up to me and, licking my cheek, set a paw on my knee. The gesture brought a smile to my face.

“What the hell do you do for fun around here, anyway?”

I pet him for what seemed like a good fifteen minutes, until he, eventually, lay on the floor beside my bed, while I picked up my book and continued reading.

Blue perked up, and the click of the door caught my attention.

A minute later, Nick stood in the doorway, carrying a brown paper bag, and goddamn, if my heart didn’t kick up like a pile of leaves in a windstorm. With his hood pulled back, it was easy to catch his stern eyes.

Scratch that, the man looked downright pissed.

“Why’s he in here?”

I shrugged at the question. “He was lying by my door, so I asked if he wanted to come in.”

“You talked to my dog?”

“You don’t talk to him? The silence in this place must drive you insane. Hell, even Tom Hanks had Wilson.” I scratched behind Blue’s ears, his stiffening neck and the way his paw clawed at the air telling me I’d hit the jackpot.

“Leave him alone from now on.” Nick whistled, but the dog didn’t move. “Stop petting him. Blue! Come!” Still the dog lay beside me, reveling in the sweet spot I’d found just beneath his collar.

A growl rumbled in Nick’s throat as he stormed toward the bed and looped a finger beneath the dog’s collar. Blue rose smoothly from the bed and trotted ahead of his master into the hallway, taking his place just outside the door.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know befriending the dog was breaking your rules.”

Nick swung around, hands on his hips. “He’s here to guard and protect.”

“Against what? Me?”

His jaw twitched, and I could see something bothered him. Our encounter the day before?

The way his gaze slid up and down my body had me feeling exposed, as if I’d stripped naked in front of him, and he could see every one of my scars.

Before he could storm out of the door, all pissed off and moody again, I stood up. “Hey … if I … promise to wear your … clothes, will you let me take a shower?” Every word arrived sour. I hated giving in to anything, but honestly, his clothes smelled a damn sight better than mine, and to hell with stubbornness. Clothes were clothes.

He stared back in silence.