Page 61 of Preying Heart
“Because of what she was doing.”
“No, she could have been a waitress and murdered. A school teacher and murdered. A police officer and murdered.” I’m shouting at Lucy, but she refuses to back down.
“She should never have left you in that situation. She should have put you in foster care. But she didn’t want to be a slave owner by your definition. Instead, she had too much pride.”
“There is no such thing as too much pride!”
The door opens and Remi walks in with Glock. She has her hands on her hips and she glares at both me and Lucy.
“Another lovers’ quarrel?” Remi snarks. “Do I have to separate you to your corners?”
“I’ve set up your accounts,” I say to Remi as curtly as I can. I hate having her catch me losing control. How am I going to get her to trust me? To want me?
Lucy storms to the door and shouts, “I’ve had it with your toxic masculinity. Slave owner, my ass.”
ChapterTwenty-Two
Remi
Heath is in a grumpy mood after Lucy ran away. He refuses to talk about it, and I refuse to press. There’s no way I can stand to stay here for nine whole months. The tension between him and Lucy is off the charts, and my head is about to explode.
It’s like his kissing me in front of Lucy triggers her, and they say hurtful things to each other. And I have to be the one to break it up.
I never knew his mother was murdered!
At least she never gave him up to a foster home.
Lucy sounds like every problem is solved by social services. Obviously, she’s never been in the system.
With Heath locked up in his office, I’m relegated to talking to Glock.
“Well, boy, it’s just me and you, and you never talk back.”
It is strange how this dog never barks. He doesn’t even whimper or beg. But then, he’s a macho one just like Heath. A former military dog. I bet he took down terrorists single-jawed.
“You’re a hero, aren’t you?” I give him a neck rub which he now allows. “What do you know about Heath?”
Glock wags his tail and walks over to his doggy bed. He comes back and drops a worn tug-of-war toy at my feet.
“You mean a walk is not enough?” I grab one of the loops while he latches on to the other loop and tugs.
He wiggles his head and yanks back hard. I lose my balance and stagger forward, barely catching myself.
“Well, if you’re going to play tough…” I grab the loop with both hands and pull. But the dog is unmovable. He holds his ground.
I jerk and shake the toy many directions. No dice. There’s no dislodging Glock from his playthings. I need the exercise anyway, but the dog is tireless. Sweat covers my brow, and my muscles strain, but every time I let go, he comes back for more.
“Okay, enough.” I give the toy an extra heavy yank.
The stretchy rubber breaks, and I go flying across the room. I land next to the umbrella stand. Glock rushes over and licks me all over the face. It’s hard not to be touched by his concern.
How pathetic am I?
I prop myself on my hands and knees to get up, and what do I see but Lucy’s laptop bag? It’s leaning against the base of a plant stand stacked with dried and shriveled houseplants.
Eureka!
I push Glock off me and scratch his head. “Time for me to take a nap in my room.”
