Page 53 of Coach
Plus, I mean, I had plausible deniability on that front. I had noproofanyone was there. It could have been all in my head.
“And no more working late. I can do my job when there are other people around. Witnesses.”
Trix huffed.
“I know. It’s not ideal. But I’m kind of fond of this town, y’know? I will keep an eye out for other jobs. Then give my two weeks’ notice. They wouldn’t be suspicious about that.” And hopefully the camera footage would erase or write over itself within a certain amount of time.
“Ugh, that’s new,” I grumbled when the construction sounds started below our feet.
Trix stiffened, lifted her big head, and growled.
“Yeah, let’s go on up to bed.”
At her second favorite word (next to ‘outside’), Trix jumped up and ran toward the stairs.
“I’m just going to bring this up with us,” I said, grabbing my heaviest hammer, “you know, in case of late-night home-improvement tasks.”
Or Russian criminals invading.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Coach
“His eyes don’t have the same sparkle,” Rafe declared, watching his dog as the dog watched the cat swatting playfully at the curtain.
“He just woke up from a nap,” I reminded him.
Rafe had been absolutely obsessed with Steve since I showed up with him a few days back. He got a bath. He got a home-cooked meal (using a week’s worth of meat meant for the club). He got belly rubs and endless games of tug and fetch. And every inch of the poor dog was analyzed for any changes since the last time Rafe had seen him.
“I don’t know. I think he should see a vet.”
“He saw a vet at the shelter.”
“Yeah, but that’s an overworked, underpaid vet. He should see a specialist.”
“An eye-sparkle specialist?” Colter asked.
“And with what money?” Syn piped in.
“I have money.”
Something about the way he said it suggested he had quite a bit of money too.
“Not in Shady Valley,” Syn said.
“No, but I’m not going to be here much longer either.”
Slash had worked out a deal with one of the other chapters of the club.
Rafe was off to a new town and state in another week or two. Raff and Syn were going to smuggle him out, so Syn could swing by his storage unit to grab the rest of his essentials before he officially became a club prospect.
“He seems fine to me,” I assured Rafe as Steve flopped backward onto Rafe’s lap to shamelessly ask for belly rubs.
“Maybe,” Rafe agreed.
“He’s just adjusting after the shelter,” Colter added.
“Sorry about that again, bud,” Rafe said, rubbing the dog’s ears until his foot kicked wildly. “It will never happen again.”
