Page 34 of The Woman in the Warehouse

“Oh, honey,” she said, stopping at the top of the stairs to the subway. “I think things will be a lot… cloudier if you keep fighting it. But that’s just your old mother’s two cents,” she said. “Be safe getting home,” she told me, waving toward the steps.

“You too,” I said, stopping to watch her walk toward her apartment before jogging down the steps.

And as I stood there waiting for the subway car to pull up, need thrumming through my system, I had to wonder if maybe she was right after all.

CHAPTER NINE

Saylor

“Nice, right?” I asked as my dog walked in circles on the massive orthopedic bed that had finally arrived. With a sweet little huff, she dropped down, her head hanging over the elevated pillow edge. “I thought you would like it,” I said, smiling at the look of pure contentment on her face.

“Did you name her yet?” Anthony’s voice called, making me jump and turn to find him standing in the opening of the garage door. I’d just dragged the heavy box in through it, then got distracted setting up the bed, and I had clearly forgotten to close the door.

Smart.

Real smart.

I mean, I had nothing left to steal. But still.

“No,” I admitted, sighing. “Oh, is that coffee?” I asked, excitement chasing away any possible awkwardness about the night before as I held out a hand for it. “Did you get burned trying to get this order?” I teased.

“Funny,” he said. “I think her bed is thicker than my mattress,” he admitted, smiling as the dog rolled over on her back, wiggling her body side to side like she was trying to get her scent all over the material. “What do you think… Bella?”

“No,” I vetoed immediately, getting a smirk out of Anthony.

“Too girly?” he asked.

“She’s a former drug dealer dog. And a current arms dealer dog. She needs a badass name.”

“Umm… Buffy?” he called, getting a headshake from me. “Katniss? Dana? Ellen? Sarah?”

“Who the hell are those last three?”

“Dana Scully? From The X Files. Ellen Ripley from Alien. And Sarah Conner from the Terminator movie.”

“They’re all too… normal,” I decided as the dog stared at Anthony, unimpressed.

“Fury, short for Furiosa?”

“You spend a lot of time watching action movies, huh?” I asked. “But I kind of like that. What do you think, Fury?” I asked, watching her ears perk up. Objectively, I knew it was likely from my tone, but I decided it was a sign.

“Seems to like that one,” Anthony said, nodding.

“Well, Keith will be happy to hear that,” I said, sipping my coffee. “What time does the ferry leave?” I asked, gauging how long it would take to get from my warehouse to the ferry.

“We got about half an hour. Wanna walk her one more time?” he asked.

We’d just gotten back, but Fury heard the word ‘walk,’ and lurched off her bed, her tail wagging wildly.

“I guess that’s a yes,” I said, going for her leash.

So we walked Fury before hopping into a cab, making it to the ferry just ten minutes before it took off.

“Do you want to sit in here, or go out on the deck?” Anthony asked.

I wanted to go outside. But there was no one else out there. And I was pretty sure that being alone with him was not a great idea. We’d managed to avoid talking about the whole incident in the gym office the night before. But I had a feeling that if we were alone too much that the desires we’d left unfulfilled the night before would reemerge.

“Here’s good,” I decided, but the way his brow lifted said he knew why I’d made that decision.

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