Page 120 of The Legend (Rivers Wilde 2)

“I’ve been looking for her for almost a year.”

“Well, damn,” Remi says and the hollow shock in his voice makes me wince.

Oh, God.

“She been with you all this time?” The man drops down on one knee and looks his dog in the eyes. “Missed you, baby, did those boys hurt you?” He runs a hand down her sleek black coat and caresses the stump where her tail had been.

Remi puts his gun down.

“She’s yours?”

“Yeah, some kids led her away while I was asleep almost a year ago. I sleep down by the underpass in—”

“They cut off her tail and left her for dead in a ditch.”

The man’s face crumples in anguish and drops his head into his hands. And then he sobs hysterically. Nancy nuzzles him with her nose and after a few seconds his sobs subside.

I rush up to stand next to him and put my hands on the man’s shoulders. They are bone thin and shaking from his sobs. But what strikes me is how thin the fabric of his shirt is. Then he coughs, a rattling, wet, unproductive sound that I can tell isn’t a normal cough.

I look at Remi, and his expression has morphed. From shock to anger.

“Remi, we need to bring him inside. He’s not well.”

“Who are you?” Remi barks down, his voice is brittle with anger.

The man’s sobs grow loud again. The dog whines and rubs her head on his shoulder.

“Remi!” I chide him and stand in front of the man and put what I hope is a reassuring hand on his chest. His heart thunders under my palm. His eyes are narrowed and menacing, his square chin wobbles as he struggles to maintain his composure.

“I know you’re scared. I’m scared, too. But we’ve got to bring him inside. Something is wrong with him.” He just stares straight ahead at the sobbing man.

“Please,” I add softly. He looks down at me, and the anguish in his eyes makes my knees weak.

“Kal, what the fuck is going on?” He grabs my arms; his eyes darken to that unreadable black that they were when I met him.

“I don’t know. But we’ll figure it out, okay?”

I turn back to the crying man and drop to my knee so we’re face-to-face.

“What’s your name?” I ask him gently.

“They call me John.” He darts a nervous glance at Remi, his eyes widen at whatever he sees there and then he looks back at me.

“I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“We don’t think you did. I’m Kal. This is Remington.” I say Remi’s full name because I want to see if there’s a spark of recognition. There isn’t.

“Well, from the looks of that fella, I’m not so sure about that.”

“He’s just surprised to see someone come looking for the dog. He’s had her a while.”

“Oh, yeah. Thank you for that. She’s been with me since she was a pup.”

His face is dirty, his beard is knotted, and hanging in straggly strands almost to his chest. But there’s no mistaking that he looks just like Remi’s grandfather. His nose, the color of his hair. But it’s his eyes, that blue that rivals the cloudless sky behind us, that seals the deal.

“Sir. Will you let us bring you inside?”

“Why?” he stands back up. He adjusts his posture and I can see the same pride that runs through Remi straighten his shoulders.

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