Page 18 of All In

Sparrow calls him Beefcake, and the name seems apt enough. All brawn, very little brains, is the impression I’ve gained of him since meeting.

“Need any help with that?” Tanner asks, leaning over my shoulder.

“Space, Tanner.” I rip the Smith & Wesson from my thigh holster and aim it at his throat. “Give me mine, or I’ll teach you how I break bad habits.”

“Yeah, they said you were crazy,” he mutters, spinning around and heading back to the bed he placed his things on. “Do me a favor and dial it back a few notches. We’re both on the same team. I’m an extra body to help you rescue Laken Spencer.”

I sigh, studying the plans for the Andretti mansion.

If only it was that simple.

Tanner plays an obnoxiously loud game on his phone for so long that I pick out his location in my basement. If we were in Virginia now, he would already be down there. Since we’re in Boston, he gets a bit of respite until we arrive.

After a while, he starts complaining he’s starving, but I have no idea who he’s speaking to, since we’re the only two people in the room.

He eventually realizes I’m ignoring him and grabs his key before leaving.

I exhale in pure relief, enjoying the silence as my brain processes the information I have.

That peace doesn’t last long.

The door once again opens, but this time, Maverick and Gunner come inside.

My eyes roll as the two massive German Shepherds jump onto my bed like they have the right.

I vaguely miss the days when they were puppies.

They feared me then. Even making eye contact could force a whine from the furry pair.

I’m not sure where I went wrong in asserting my dominance.

Everyone is testing my patience these days.

Perhaps it’s time I remind them who I really am.

The humans.

Not the canines.

The thought nearly makes me chuckle.

I do love animals.

Unfortunately, they rarely like me.

It could be because I have a strict no-pets-on-the-furniture policy, but in general, I prefer critters to humans. There’s a purity there that I’ve never found in humanity.

However, I have a physical aversion to animal hair sticking to my clothing in chunks.

“Those beasts have no manners.” I gesture to the canines in question.

“They have more manners than you do.” Maverick snorts, taking a seat on the bed Tanner attempted to claim. “They smell better most days too.”

“We just drove four hundred miles with the pair of them whining in the back seat.” Gunner tosses himself down on my bed, completely ignoring that he’s now going to be covered in dog hair. “How long until we have to move? They’re going to need to be fed and run off some of the energy they built up on the drive if we want them focused.”

Nova and Haze tilt their heads like they know what those words mean.

Maverick and Gunner belong to the dogs.

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