Page 43 of Inked Adonis

“You poor thing. Bless your heart.” I say the same thing Grams said when I fell and skinned my knees the day she took me to the park.

I take another step, but Morrie growls again. Somehow, it feels louder than his barking. His teeth are bared, his tail tucked securely between his legs.

“Please, Morrie,” I plead. “Be quiet. Daddy told me he’ll ‘take care of you’ if you wake him up again.”

I don’t know what that means, but I know it’s not good.

I inch forward, water bottle raised like a white flag. “I can help,” I keep repeating. “I can help.”

I know animals. The only reason they get angry is because they’re scared. Morrie’s not really angry with me. He’s just in pain and that’s making him scared.

I have to be brave.

Iambrave.

I dip down low and reach for the chain around Morrie’s paw. His growling increases. It’s getting louder, but I’m almost there. If I can just get it loose…

“NOVA!”

I jerk—moving too fast, tugging on the chain tangled around Morrie’s leg—and Morrie snarls.

Blinding pain sears through my wrist as his teeth clamp down hard. I fall to the damp grass, and there’s more pain. My hip this time.

“What did I tell you about staying away from that fuckin’ animal, girl?” Daddy roars, appearing out of the shadows like a monster.

“No, Daddy!” Pain rips through me, but it’s nothing compared to the terror clawing at my chest. “Please...”

His massive frame blocks out the morning sun, reeking of Jack and bad decisions. My brave, compassionate seven-year-old heart shatters when he grabs Morrie’s chain with hands that have never known gentleness.

“Get your ass inside before I really show you what happens to little girls who don’t listen.”

Blood drips from my wrist onto my canary yellow pajamas—Grams’ birthday gift now ruined like everything else Daddy touches. I try to stand but crumple. My legs won’t work right.

Through tears, I watch him drag Morrie toward his truck. The same truck he uses to haul away the neighborhood’s other problems. The ones that never come back.

“Where are you taking him?”

“Animal Control,” he spits. “Since you’re too stupid to follow simple rules, that dog’s going somewhere you’ll never find him.”

He doesn’t bother looking back as he continues hauling Morrie away. “It was my fault,” I croak under my breath. Either Daddy can’t hear me or he doesn’t care. “He was just scared...”

The truck’s gate slams shut. My father’s eyes are empty when they finally meet mine.

The last thing I see is Morrie’s desperate gaze from the truck bed, watching me with a forgiveness I’ll never give myself as Daddy drives away, taking with him the last shred of my childhood belief that love can save anything.

I wakeup screaming my father’s name.

The room is pitch black except for a slice of hallway light cutting across my bed. A huge shadow fills my doorway—Samuil. My nightmare’s nightmare.

He should terrify me more than the dream did. He’s the real monster here, the one actually holding me prisoner in this gilded cage fifty stories above Chicago.

But my body is a traitor.

It responds to his quiet strength, to the way he fills the space without moving, without speaking. To the careful way he watches me, like he knows exactly what it’s like to wake up trapped in memories that won’t let you go.

My hands are shaking. My heart won’t slow down. And I hate,hatethat some broken part of me wants him to come closer.

His footsteps are silent on the thick carpet as he approaches, because of course they are. Men like Samuil don’t make noise unless they choose to. They don’t show weakness unless it serves a purpose. They don’t offer comfort unless they want something in return.

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