Page 70 of Enforcer's Obsession

She looked so excited, so hopeful that it took my breath away.

“But I don’t have anywhere to?—”

“Hope, I’ll see that Champ is taken care of,” I said.

I’d see that she was taken care of too, but I didn’t say that out loud.

She would reject it, so I didn’t waste the words.

“I gotta say,” I said, watching her as she tossed a rope bone at the dog, who tried to wrestle it away, “he’s not the prettiest dog I’ve ever seen.”

Her reaction was instant. “I willnothear such blasphemy! He’s the most beautiful dog ever, and he has the heart of a champion.”

“Ahh, that explains the name,” I said.

“Yeah,” she said, sitting back on her heels as she continued to roughhouse with the dog. “You wouldn’t believe the shape he was in when the shelter first got him. His front paw is a birth defect, but I don’t know what happened to his eye. He was skin and bones, missing big tufts of fur, but when they brought him in, he barked at me, and I fell in love,” she said.

She smiled down at the dog, and I could see that affection now.

“Why?” I asked, though I knew it was a stupid question.

Still, I need something to distract myself, fill the space of the thoughts that I couldn’t afford to have.

“Why not? He’s worth as much as the most beautiful purebred dog. And he deserves to have someone to look after him.” She petted the dog lovingly.

“Good thing he found you,” I said.

“I was always terrified that someone was going to adopt him,” she said.

I looked at the dog, then smiled. “I don’t think you need to be concerned about that.”

“No, I guess not, but I made a deal to look after him as long as I worked there,” she said.

“Yes, according to Enzo, the shelter was very reluctant to adopt him out,” I said.

“Good,” she said.

“I don’t know how you can still care so much about those people,” I said with disgust because Hope might love the shelter, but they hadn’t stuck by her.

“What do you mean?” she asked, looking at me again, as she kept petting the dog.

“You missed a couple of days, and they put you on a leave of absence. That doesn’t seem very considerate,” I said.

I still remember how heartbroken she had looked when I showed her the text from her supervisor, telling her that she’d have to go on leave, and then after two months, they would terminate her if she wasn’t ready to work.

“So, you never had a job I take it,” she said.

“I’ve worked all my life,” I countered.

“No, you’ve been a criminal all your life. That’s nothing compared to the corporate world. That they even bothered to text me is shocking. And I know the people I worked with care. At the same time, they need hands, and if I’m not coming back, I can’t expect them to hold a place for me forever,” she said nonchalantly, like it was nothing.

I chose not to press the issue, but smiled at the little dog.

“Did you have one when you were growing up?”

She let out a little huff.

“Heck no,” she said. What about you?”

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