Page 76 of Beware of Dog

“Raven—”

Nat’s ear-splitting cry crackled through the baby monitor, and Raven turned for the hallway.

“I’ll get her,” she said, waving Toly back down when he moved to stand.

When she was gone, Shep returned to his spot on the couch, fresh beer in hand. “Hey,” he said, leaning in close to her. “I don’t know shit about fashion or art or any of that.”

“Obviously.”

“But maybe don’t write it off just yet, yeah? Your sister’s super successful, maybe you could…okay, or not,” he said, when she shot him a look. He lifted his brows, free hand held up for peace. “Whycan’tyou do both? What’s so wrong with making a buck?”

“Because—because it’s—”

“You’re not gonna feed me a buncha artist integrity bullshit, are you?”

“Fuckyou, Frank.” She stood, and made a point of stomping on his toe.

“Ow! Stop that.” He snagged her by the belt loop before she could stalk off, and she rounded on him. “Don’t you hit me, you little shit,” he warned, “or I’ll put you over my knee right here.”

The image of that, paired with the wild look in his eyes, hit her square in the libido. She was suddenly, madly turned on.

Chest heaving as she fought for breath, she said, “I don’t care about the money.”

He let go of her to spread his arms wide. “Yeah? Maybe not now. How much money do you think I have? You think I can buy you a place like this?” Beer sloshed out of the botte when he gestured to the flat around them. “You think I can send you to fucking”—a gesture at the table, the tickets—“Cinderella’s ball or some shit?”

Now she was turned onanddevastated. Her eyes filled with tears. “I don’tneedthat.”

“Like I said, you say that now, but give it a little time. Givemea little time, and—”

A throat cleared.

Oh God. Toly.

Shep’s expression would have been comical at any other time. As it was, Cass’s heart was slamming too hard for her to find any humor in the situation.

Slowly, dread curdling her stomach, she turned toward the chair where Toly still sat, watching them with narrow shark eyes, cigarette trailing smoke ribbons into the air.

“Toly,” Cass started.

“Shepherd.” Toly’s voice was very flat, and very cold, and terrifying. “I’d like a word with you out on the balcony.”

“Eat my dick,” Shep shot back.

Toly tilted his head, and the gesture wasn’t at all human. “Cass,” he said without looking at her. “Go see if Raven needs help with the baby.”

“Please—”

“Go see,” he insisted, without raising his voice, “and make nice with her. Hug it out.” He stood. “Shep and I are going onto the balcony.”

“Fuck off,” Shep said, but he stood, and Cass could see, with a sinking feeling, that he was in fact going to follow.

Cass skirted around the table and grabbed at Toly’s arm. “Toly, please, I can explain, don’t tell Raven, please just…” She trailed off when he glanced down at her, because he was no longer her brother-in-law in that moment. She let go of him, and swore her palms were burned.

“Go on,” he said, almost gently. But only almost. “Help Raven. Shep and I are going to have a nice chat.”

~*~

Either Shep had eaten too much pasta, or he was having a heart attack. The punishing cold out on the balcony was a welcome scrape across his face, and he didn’t have to feign anger when he growled, “I’m not afraid of you, string bean. I’ll snap you in fucking half.”

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