Page 65 of I Am Salvation

And a low voice speaks.

“We came to initiate the new meat.”

Present day…

I jerk upright in bed, a cold sweat beading on my forehead.

Where the fuck am I?

The dog reminds me. My mother’s mistreated dog, who’s now panting at my bedside with a doggy smile on his face.

Right. I’m in Taos.

With Diana.

“Where’s Diana, boy?” I ask the dog.

Then I remember. I was half asleep when she told me she was running an errand, that she’d fed the dog. What time was that?

I have no idea. I look at my phone on the bedside table. It’s now nine a.m. She could’ve been gone a minute or an hour.

Man, was I out like a light. A good fuck will do that to a guy.

And a good fuck with a woman he’s in love with?

I don’t have anything to compare it to, but it was magnificent.

I’m in love with a woman I can never have.

I’ll deal.

I spent my life dealing with things I can’t have.

No sweat off my back.

I rise, head to the bathroom, and take a quick shower. I throw on some clean jeans and a T-shirt, and then I notice the dog again. He’s whimpering.

“You need to go out?”

He doesn’t answer me, of course, and I don’t know when he was last out. I have a vague recollection of Diana saying she fed him and let him out, but who knows when the hell that was?

“Okay, boy. Where’s your leash?” I find it draped across a chair, and I attach it to his collar. “All right. Let’s go.”

Once the dog has taken care of things, I clean it up, return to the lobby—helping myself to a cup of complimentary coffee—and then head back up to the room.

Diana took the car, so now what?

I didn’t get any information from my mother that would lead me to where Griffin might be. If she’s even alive.

I grab the jeans I wore yesterday and pull a Ziploc bag out of the pocket. Inside is the heart-shaped piece of flannel fabric from Griffin’s pajamas. I could be wrong, but why else would someone give it to me?

It has to be hers.

What the hell kind of errand did Diana have to run? She already bought food and supplies for the dog. Maybe she went out to get some breakfast.

As if in response, my stomach lets out a growl.

I can’t leave the dog alone in the room. Who knows what he might do? This is my mother’s dog, after all. He probably hasn’t been taught how to behave.

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