Page 79 of The Pucking Wrong Man

Grabbing the tupperware container full of raw meat that I’d brought with me, I opened the truck door, firing off one more text.

Me: Game time. The dogs will be coming out of the alleyway between the deli and that laundromat. Be ready.

My phone was buzzing frantically as I went to stuff it back into my pocket. I quickly silenced it so she wouldn’t hear. They would have to figure it out.

I walked across the street, hovering by the entrance to the alley, before I carefully peeked around a corner.

She must have been behind the dumpster because I couldn’t see her from here—which was good because that meant she couldn't see me.

I couldn’t think about the reality of her behind that dumpster or I would go crazy. The wind seemed especially cold right here, like it was trying to push her out of her hiding spot and into my arms.

Quietly, I threw some of the meat into the alley before I jogged back to my truck, dropping small pieces of meat on the way like a cannibal’s version of Hansel and Gretal so the dogs would know where to go. Once back at the truck, I cleaned off my hands with some hand sanitizer to try and block out the smell of the meat. That was all I needed, for Midas and Fluffy to make my hand a snack.

I needed that hand for many reasons.

The dogs had actually been quiet while I’d been sitting there, just the occasional whine the entire time. But they must have had super sniffers because they immediately started going crazy the second I opened the back door and held up the container.

Geraldine had originally believed that dogs should be fed what their ancestors survived on. So when she’d first gotten Midas and Fluffy—she’d fed them mostly raw meat.

She’d stopped when she realized these two dogs, in particular, became almost feral every time they ate it. Kind of like how cats reacted with catnip.

I didn’t know a lot about dogs, but I was pretty sure that not all dogs had that kind of reaction.

Luckily for me, Geraldine’s did.

Fuck.

I shook my head at myself, still a little flabbergasted I’d turned into this person.

What the hell was I doing? I’d just thrown raw meat into an alleyway to scare a poor girl into moving in with me. I could still picture her panicked eyes the night we’d seen that first dog. How she’d whimpered and held onto me for dear life.

And now, here I was siccing her worst fear on her.

I’d make it up to her. I knew I would.

Still, I was going to be committed if anyone ever found out.

Well, I would probably be imprisoned first. But the temporarily insane defense was going to be an option at my trial.

That was a certainty.

I let the dogs out of their crate, narrowly avoiding getting my arm bit off as Midas snapped his teeth in his eagerness to get out. Apparently, he’d already gotten a whiff of the meat.

“Fucking hell,” I growled, jumping back as they flew from the crates and jumped onto the street, growling and whining—their noses glued to the ground as they sniffed out their feast.

What was the next part of the plan? My mind was completely blanking. I’d just unleashed a couple of crazed animals at my soulmate’s hiding place...

I was still for a moment, and then I shrugged.

Ends to means or whatever that saying was.

The dogs picked up the scent and took off toward the alley, gobbling up the meat as they inched closer and closer.

Anastasia was probably freaking out just from hearing them.

Don’t think about that.

Grabbing my water bottle, I splashed some of its water on my hair, because I needed to sell this next part. I was supposed to be out for a run—or at least that was going to be my excuse for being around.

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