Page 5 of Sully

Well, okay. I wouldn’t exactly, you know,mindhot guys falling all over themselves for me. Or even just… one guy.

I liked my quiet, cozy little life: nights at home, making lovely meals, reading books, doing crafts, curling up on the couch to watch movies. But I wouldn’t be opposed to having someone there with me.

I’d been so damn alone for so long.

I’d finally been strong enough to go no-contact with my toxic family two years before. And I hadn’t had any sort of serious relationship in, geez, three years.

Fine.

To be honest, I hadn’t hadanysort of relationship—serious or not—in three years.

I wouldn’t mind finding someone nice and quiet like me. Someone who had his own hobbies—gaming, reading, building stuff, whatever—so we could just hang out near each other while doing our own activities. ‘Parallel play,’ I heard it called.

But, well, I guess those quiet guys were likely all holed up in their own apartments doing their hobbies like I was, so meeting them seemed unlikely.

So if I wasn’t going to be able to meet some dreamy guy, then I needed to move to a new apartment and get myself a dog friend—or three—to hang out with.

Luckily, this gig paid a lot better than my last job, so I was maybe only six months away from being able to not renew my lease and find a better place.

Then I could stop window-shopping the dog rescue pages on social media and actually put in my own application. It could only work in my favor that I could bring my dog with me to work.

I scrubbed the utility sink, glancing up at myself in the mirror that had little dog paws etched on one of the corners.

My white-blonde hair was pulled into a clip to keep it out of the way, but a few wisps had fallen down around my face, which was a little red and splotchy from cleaning.

My mascara was smudged around my gray eyes. Courtney had mentioned several times before that I shouldn’t bother with makeup on the job. But Courtney had nice thick, dark lashes. My natural lashes were a light shade of brown that kind of disappeared if I didn’t darken them a bit. The same went for my brows that I tinted every few weeks.

I used a wet finger to rub some of it away before tossing my apron into the hamper to wash in the morning, grabbing my thick cardigan—that I may or may not have crocheted myself—and heading toward the front.

I double-checked the lights and security system before making my way out into the lot.

The sole light in the back had burned out, and I tried not to let my mind run away with me as I made my way toward my beat-up old sedan, bleeping the locks at the last possible second.

In the end, though, that precaution proved kind of pointless.

Because I was already in my seat, stabbing my key into the ignition when the door whipped open.

I couldn’t even scream before the blow landed to my head.

But I was out cold before I could even feel any pain.

__

“Ow,” I whimpered, the pain a bass band behind my eyes, the disorientation making it hard, at first, to remember what was going on, why I was in pain.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you,” a voice said as I lifted my arms, wanting to press the heels of my hands to my eyes.

My belly dropped to my feet.

I didn’t know that voice.

But I knew that whoever it belonged to, I wasn’t supposed to be around him.

No, I was supposed to be at work.

No, I was supposed to be leaving. I’d finished cleaning up and was walking out, noticing the light off.

Then I was climbing in the car, sticking my key in the ignition, and…

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