Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
If you didn’t want to end up dead, don’t fuck over the mob. Simple enough.
But animals, especially baby animals?
They were as innocent as you got.
Their deaths felt worse somehow.
Maybe especially so because they’d clearly been dumped here by someone, someone who didn’t give them food or water, who left them to starve or be hunted down by larger prey.
That was fucked up beyond measure.
“I thought I could do it,” she said, casting another sad look toward the puppies. “But I feel like I’m gonna be sick when I touch them.”
“Let me,” I said, even though I knew that showing my face for longer than absolutely necessary was a really stupid fucking move. It increased her chances of picking me out of a line-up if the bodies were ever uncovered.
But something was making me step forward toward her, reaching into the pocket of my hideous fucking windbreaker-style jacket to produce a pair of lightweight work gloves, and slipping them on.
The woman backed away from me, making her way over toward the living puppy who was jerking against the makeshift leash and collar she had wrapped around his neck. Made of rope.
The dead puppies looked a lot like him, the same sort of coloring, but in different patterns.
I felt an unexpected stab of grief, followed by a slightly more familiar sensation of rage flow through my system as I carefully picked them each up, and set them in the grave.
“Here,” I said, motioning for the shovel as I pulled off my gloves, tucking them back in my pocket.
The woman stepped closer, but held out the shovel as far as she could, so she didn’t need to get within arm’s reach.
Smart girl.
I couldn’t even be offended, not with how many stories you heard about women doing all the right things. Running on well-lit, busy paths, telling their friends where they were, having their location turned on on their phones. And still getting snatched, raped, and murdered.
The world was scary for even the most cautious woman.
I couldn’t imagine what this one was thinking, given her clear disadvantage if I had ulterior motivations.
I took the shovel, pretending to focus on the task at hand, but keeping her in my line of sight as she slunk back toward the puppy, carefully untying him from the tree, keeping his rope wrapped around her hand, likely ready to run at the slightest unsafe feeling.
“Are you keeping him?” I asked, glancing toward the puppy with his head turned up toward the woman as she sniffled.
“I know I probably shouldn’t,” she said. “But I think I am.”
“Why shouldn’t you?” I asked, patting the dirt flat once the grave was filled.
“Oh, ah, a lot of reasons,” she said.
Hedging.
She was being vague.
I was trying to figure out if it was simply because I was a stranger, or because she was hiding something.
“He seems to have picked you,” I said as the puppy started to lick her hand that was hanging at her side.
“My hand probably still smells like jerky,” she said, rolling those pretty eyes.
Grey.
They were gray.
And gorgeous.
She had those freckles I’d imagined too.
“Right, Storm?” she asked, petting his ears. “Well, ah, thanks for helping,” she said as I rested the shovel against a tree, then moved away from it, not wanting her to think I was going to use it as a weapon. “If you were coming from the trail,” she said, lifting an arm to point, “it’s that way.”
“Right,” I said, nodding. “No problem,” I added, waving toward the grave. “Glad he made it out okay,” I added, giving her a nod, then making my way in the direction she pointed.
I walked until I was far enough for her not to hear me anymore, but stayed behind a tree, watching as she found some decent-sized twigs, then put them together with some extra rope to make a cross, before stabbing it into the ground at the head of the grave.
That shit was unexpectedly sweet.
It was sweeter still when she pulled Storm over with her as she knelt, head bent, saying a little prayer over the bodies of his littermates, before standing, and heading back in the direction I’d seen her move the other night.
Interesting.
Since I knew there was nothing over there.
Save for the hunting cabin on this property.
And, judging by the way she couldn’t even touch the bodies of the puppies, I seriously doubted she was the hunting type.
I trekked back toward my car, shucking off my camping gear, then climbing inside, sitting there on the street just thinking.
It wasn’t until I saw a car driving out of that road, turning in the opposite direction of me, that I made a split-second decision to go investigate while she was gone.
It was risky as fuck, given that I had no clue how long she would be gone. But the closest town was a solid fifteen or twenty-minute drive. So I had at least half an hour to snoop.