Page 32 of Under Fyre

I pull the door closed, but not all the way in case the sound of it latching wakes him. And then I turn and stare at Arrow. She’s watching me with pricked-up ears, her body still, her tail wagging slowly.

That’s a good sign, right?

I hold up both hands, let out a soft, “Ssh.”

She turns and heads for the kitchen, limping ever so slightly, and pauses to look back at me when I don’t move. Then she whines and takes a few more steps.

It’s like she’s asking me to follow her.

She doesn’t even seem to care that I’m not Fyre. Maybe she never did. Maybe one human is pretty much like any other.

I follow her on bare feet, still naked, still smelling the faint traces of shaving cream on my skin. But I don’t let myself think about that.

I can’t.

By the time we reach the kitchen, though, I’m shivering. The house is ice-cold, and I feel drafts licking at my ankles. I wrap my arms around myself, rubbing, and Arrow gives me an inquisitive look.

“Don’t judge,” I murmur. “You’re wearing a fucking fur coat.”

Arrow leads me right to the back door, and then touches her nose against the leash hanging from the key hook.

“Girl, you read my mind.”

Fyre’s trench coat is hanging from the coat rack near the kitchen door. I put it on. His snow boots too. They’re much too big, but I’m not risking losing a toe out there. I can feel the cold seeping in under the kitchen door.

Arrow’s tail swishes happily when I take the leash down from the hook. Then she watches me, mouth open as she pants, big eyes so expressive it’s like she’s talking to me.

Put it on, human.

The thought of touching her makes my heart rate speed up. “You’re…so…big.”

Arrow cocks her head.

You’re such a pussy.

“That’s rude,” I tell her, and then grit my teeth as I stretch out an arm. I might have seen a collar buried under the thick fur around her neck, but the only way I’d know is if—

Arrow moves forward like she’s tired of my cowardice, putting her neck right by my hand. Her tail is going even faster now.

“Guess you’re really set in your ways, huh?” I mumble as I dig in her fur for the collar. I find a steel chain with a name tag dangling down and eventually manage to clip her leash in place.

She starts double-stepping next to me, limp gone, practically shivering with excitement as I go to unlock the door.

As soon as it’s open, she bolts outside so fast that the leash pulls out of my hand.

I stare after her as she disappears into the night, my stomach sinking all the way to the core of the earth.

Fuck. What have I done?

It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t even have bothered with the dog. My main concern is getting the hell out of here.

Stepping carefully in Fyre’s big boots, I leave his house, desperately willing away the guilt burrowing into me.

Chapter Sixteen

Fyre

Asharp bark echoes in my ears. Rudely awakened, my brain takes a moment to latch onto the fact that I’m not in my own bedroom—the position of the window and the door in relation to the bed are completely different.

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