Page 10 of Assassin's Obsession

Wanting to know how the dog got injured, I ask, "What happened when he chased the squirrel?"

"The wife was holding the leash and he pulled her right off her feet, she slid into muddy grass face first. Was fucking funny. Until her asshole husband starts screaming at the dog and kicking him."

"You step in?" I ask. Not sure why.

Most people wouldn't.

"Yeah. Told him he should have been holding the leash in the first place. Wasn't the dog's fault he was too big for the woman to control."

I nod. The dog must weigh over a hundred pounds.

"Won't repeat what he said about Mars, but privileged little shit told me if I thought he was such a great dog, I could take care of him."

Something stutters in my chest. "That his name? Mars?"

Nonno's Cane Corso was named Mars. It's a popular dog name, but it gives me a jolt anyway.

"Not according to the tag I took off him. The yuppie couple called him Bentley Beauregard von Simmons. He answers just fine to Mars."

I shake my head. "He deserved to be rescued from the name alone. He's fucking Italian, not German."

"That's what I thought. They could have at least used an Italian car name anddiinstead ofvon."

"Mars is better."

"That it is." The old man points toward the back of the alley. "That guy you brought out here with you is going to escape through the vegan restaurant's kitchen."

Chapter 4

ANGELO

Turning my head, I see he's right and holster my gun before jogging after Ronnie. I snag the back of his collar and frog march him back to Mars and the old man.

Double fuck. The dog needs a vet, but his owner will no doubt deny giving him to the old guy when the vet calls to tell him Mars is in the clinic.

Ronnie's begging again. I shake him. "Shut the fuck up, unless you want to lose your tongue right along with your hand."

I need to think.

He shuts up.

The old man's lips twist in a sneer. "Not a lot of fight in that one, is there?"

"Nah."

"Known a lot of suits like him. Too many," he grumbles. "You need help with him?"

"Do I look like I need help?"

The old man deflates, mumbling, "No, 'course not."

I don't feel guilt. It's not a thing.

But there's a weird feeling in my chest right now and I don't like it.

"He touched my woman. It's personal." I don't explain myself either, but I guess tonight I do.

"She one of the dancers inside?"

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