Page 77 of Echoes of Fear

“Up here, Papa,” Knox calls out.

“How the hell did you get up there?” I ask, looking up at the tree with next to no branches.

“I think I teleported,” he says. “But I can’t get down.”

Using what little light I have, I get in place and brace myself. Knox isn’t big by any means, but he’s still a man and still has some bulk to him.

Which I fuckin’ love.

But having him fall into my arms from that height might cause my knees to buckle if I’m not careful.

“Jump, ba…”

By the time I finished saying, baby, Knox was already safe in my arms.

“Well, hello there, little tree monkey,” I smile. “Very smart hiding place.”

“People never look up,” he says. “Is it safe? Can we go home? Oh, hey, Titan. Where were you?”

“I think he was poisoned,” I admit as I walk us back home. “I’m going to have Reynolds take him to the emergency vet and check him over.”

“Papa, did you know that Sullivan was working with the bad men?” Knox asks. “He tried to stab me. See?”

Knox holds his arm out, and I see a cut about a few inches long running up his right arm. Blood pours from the wound, and I start running.

“It’s fine,” Knox says. “I don’t even need stitches. The blade slid across my arm when I jerked out of his hands and ran away. So technically speaking, I did it to myself.”

“Don’t try and save his ass, Pup,” I growl.

Almost home.

“He didn’t want to, Papa. He’s just scared.”

“We’ll talk about it later.”

I’m way too fuckin’ pissed off to talk about Sullivan right now.

When we reach our house, the lights are back on, and everyone except Ghost, Blaze, Steel, and Reynolds has cleared out.

“Reynolds. I think they poisoned Titan. Take him to the vet for me?”

“Sure thing. Come on, boy. Let’s go for a ride.”

“Is he putting Titan on a motorcycle?” Knox squeaks.

“I have a sidecar that attaches to my motorcycle,” I explain, rushing to the bathroom. “Titan loves it.”

“Crazy man with his crazy car to drive around a crazy dog on a stupid motorcycle.”

He keeps mumbling about how motorcycles are the bane of his existence while I clean and dress his wound.

I don’t mind him not liking motorcycles. I have other ways of driving him places. I won't force him if he doesn’t ever want to ride on my bike.

“What’s his secret?” Blaze asks when we walk into the living room.

“Whose?” Knox asks cheekily.

His Little is slowly fading, but he’s not gone completely.

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