Page 2 of Monster Mistake

Thepleasemust’ve done it. A shudder ran through him, but ultimately, he opened his hand, letting Sanders fall to theground like a used bath towel. He coughed and sputtered as Khill frowned down at him dispassionately. “I’m calling the cops,” Sanders choked out.

Ugh. That’s what she’d been afraid of. Khill had already been a person of interest last month when the owners of a dog fighting ring had been found beaten to within an inch of their lives and stuffed into the trunks of their own cars. When the police rescued them, they couldn’t provide a description of their assailant, other than to say he was huge. Like, supernaturally huge. Khill had been questioned immediately. Without proof, they couldn’t hold him for long, though, and they didn’t push it. After all, whoreallycared that a bunch of scumbags got a little of what was coming to them? But everyone knew it had been Khill.

So, even if assault charges didn’t land him in jail this time, he’ddefinitelylose his job at the rescue. Monsters for Mutts employed more than 30 monsters that were unemployable anywhere else and helped thousands of dogs a year find forever homes. With so much at stake, Lucy and Victor, the owners, couldn’t afford the kind of bad press that came with keeping a convicted felon on staff.

Which meant it was time for her to get creative.

“You could,” she said with a shrug. “But remember, the shelter has rich benefactors with great attorneys. He’ll at least make bail. And when he does, he knows where you live.”

Khill bared his teeth at him in a vicious mockery of a smile. Good Lord, Justine thought. He looked absolutelyferal. It did have the intended effect, though…if the puddle of urine forming under Sanders was any indication.

Gross.

She cleared her throat. “Oryou could give us the dog, let us leave, and you’ll never see either of us again.”

Sanders shot Khill one more terrified glance before hissing, “Take it and go.” Then he crab crawled back into his hovel and kicked the door shut in their faces.

Khill had the nerve to look proud of himself. “You want to grab the dog, or should I?”

Justine blinked up at him. “Are youkiddingme?”

He sighed as he made his way off the porch towards the dog. “I’ll grab him.”

She trailed behind him, speechless. Beating up some scum bags with no witnesses around in the middle of the night was one thing. But assaulting a guy in broad daylight, right in front of her, after she mentioned the name of the rescue? It was reckless and stupid and…OK, fine. It was kind of hot that he’d done it on her behalf.

But as a result, she’d just committed a crime to protect him (blackmail was illegal, right?), which made his actions decidedlylesshot.

What a fucking mess. Lucy and Viktor were more than bosses, they were friends. But did friendship extend to cases where their business was dragged through the mud—criminalmud, even—because of something she and Khill had done?

She let out an involuntary squeak when Khill stopped, and she ran into his back. It was like slamming face first into a wall.

Peeking around the giant expanse of shoulder he carried around so easily (the show off), Justine got her first up-close look at the poor little dog they’d just threatened (blackmailed…whatever)Mr. Sanders into surrendering. And just like that, she didn’t feel bad at all for threatening/blackmailing that asshole.

First of all, he wasn’t even an adult dog yet. If Justine hadn’t missed her guess, he was only about three months old. He looked to weigh about twenty-ish pounds, but probablyshouldweigh closer to thirty, maybe even forty. She couldn’t say for sure what breed he was. He had the coloring of a beagle, and the wiry coat of a terrier. His left ear was ragged on the end, like he’d gotten it caught on something and tore it free. It had healed a little wonky, letting Justine know it had never been treated properly. He was looking up at them like they might stomp him at any moment, and he was resigned to whatever fate they decided to deal him.

“I should’ve let you strangle that motherfucker,” she said through gritted teeth.

Khill glanced down at her and cracked his knuckles. “It’s not too late.”

“Let me put together some bail money first.”

Kneeling down, she extended her hand to the puppy. “Hi,” she said in her most soothing voice. “You don’t know it yet, but you just hit the doggy lotto. I have a nice, warm kennel and a big bowl of food with your name on it.”

He cringed away from her hand, cowering closer to the house. She sighed. So, he was going to play hard to get. She could deal with that. He wouldn’t be the first.

Her thoughts drifted inappropriately—so,soinappropriately—to Khill, who’d also been determinedly playing hard to get for all the years she’d known him.

But that wasn’t the point. Point was, normally, she could wait all day to earn a little dog’s trust. They didn’t have that kind of time, though. She figured if they were still there once Mr. Sanders changed his pants and stopped shaking in his boots, he’d call the cops.

She opened her mouth to tell Khill to grab a lead and small carrier from the truck, but snapped it shut when he knelt and extended his giant, dinner-plate sized hand to the dog.

“Come on,” he said in his low, gravely, oddly calming voice. “Time to go. Gonna need you to be brave, little man.”

Justine held her breath as the little dog looked up at him with solemn eyes. He looked like he was running a risk assessment, trying to decide if his odds were better withthismonster, or the one inside the house. She wished she could explain to him thatthismonster wasn’t a bad guy at all. He onlylookedlike a scary monster.

A crazy-hot scary monster.

The dog inched forward, eyes shifting between Khill and Justine. When no one made a grab for him, he moved a little closer. Then a little closer yet, doing a commando crawl. And when he was within Khill’s reach, he flopped over on his back and exposed his belly.

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