Page 125 of Midnight Enemy

I glance at the door, and my eyebrows shoot up as Scarlett comes in, followed closely by Kingi, who’s carrying a medium-sized cardboard box.

“Hello,” Scarlett says, smiling.

“Oh, hey! What are you doing here?”

She walks up to me and slides her arms around my waist, and I give her a hug, warmth spreading through me.

She lifts her face for a kiss. Then she moves back and says, “I brought you a present.”

“Really?”

Kingi brings the box over and puts it on the coffee table. He grins at me. Then he winks at Scarlett and says, “I’ll leave you to it,” and goes out.

“If it’s a cake, I’d have preferred it if you’d jumped out of it,” I point out.

She gives me a wry look, then gestures at it. “Aren’t you going to open it?”

“It’s not my birthday.”

“It’s a thank you, Orson, from all of us at Kahukura, for everything you’ve done for us.”

Frowning, I go over to the box. “You didn’t need to do that. I don’t expect—” I twitch, startled, as the box moves. “What the fuck?”

I stare at her. She just grins. I look back at the box, only noticing then that the top has a series of air holes in it. My heart racing, I lift the side flaps, which aren’t stuck down, and open the front and back.

My jaw drops. Inside, sitting up in a small bed, is a tiny puppy.

Its tail, which curves up over its body, is wagging at a million miles an hour. The puppy stands and puts its front paws on the side of the box. Worried it’s going to tip it forward, I reach in, pick the puppy up, and lift it into my arms.

It’s tiny—only about six inches tall—and white with light-brown patches. It looks like a Jack Russell, but its coat is rough, and its face has an adorable small shaggy beard. It’s wearing a blue collar. I look underneath—it’s a boy.

“His name is Bearcub,” Scarlett says. “He’s eight weeks old.”

“What breed is he?” My voice is suspiciously husky.

“He’s a Parson Russell Terrier. They have a longer head and a larger chest than the Jack Russell. He’ll probably double in size by the time he’s an adult, but he’ll still be small enough to ride on your bike. Apparently they have a lot of energy… like someone else I know…” She smiles. “I thought he could go running with you.”

He puts his front feet on my chest and licks my chin. Jesus, he’s so small, but his brown eyes are full of spirit.

I think about Doyle, and my eyes fill with tears. “I don’t think we’ll take you on the bike,” I whisper. “We’re going to keep you safe, little fella.”

“One of the guys at the commune knows a local breeder,” Scarlett says softly. “I’ve got all the paperwork.” She fondles the puppy’s ear. “He can’t go for a walk until he’s had his last injections at about sixteen weeks, but the garden is fine.”

He climbs up my chest, then sinks down and rests his chin on my shoulder. For a moment, I can’t speak. His body is tiny and warm, and where my hand is supporting him under his chest, I can feel his heart beating against his ribs. I love his coloring, his whiskers, and his tail, which doesn’t stop moving. He’s beautiful, and he’s exactly what I needed.

Kingi comes back into the room, and he says, “Aw, now, isn’t that the perfect scene?” He lifts his phone and takes a photo, and I laugh, blinking the tears away.

“You knew?” I ask.

He nods. “Scarlett called me this morning and asked me to make sure you stayed in the office until she arrived.” He comes closer and reaches out a hand to stroke the pup. “He’s gorgeous.”

“He’ll never replace Doyle,” I say, feeling a brief stab of guilt.

“Of course not,” Kingi replies with a smile. “This little guy has his own personality, you can see that already. He’s going to be a major pain in the ass.”

“Like me,” Scarlett says, and giggles.

“Both making my life a misery.” I chuckle and kiss Bearcub’s head.

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