Page 85 of Q: Satan's Fury MC

“I’ll get Ink and a couple of the other prospects to come and take care of him. Probably just bag him up and dump him.”

It wasn’t the first time we’d had to dispose of a body, so I knew they could handle it. I was ready to put the day behind me, so after a quick nod, I headed out to my truck.

I took my time driving home.

I rolled down the windows in my truck and let the cold wind rush in. I hoped it would help clear my head, and while it helped, I was still feeling off-center. When I got to the house, I tossed my bloody clothes, then headed straight for the bathroom and turned on the shower. I took a long one, hoping it would ease the tension in my muscle, but I didn’t start to feel like myself until Jules peeked her head around the shower curtain and asked, “Can we get a dog?”

“What?”

“Can we get a dog?” She crinkled her nose in that goofy way that she did, then shrugged. “Or maybe a cat? I don’t know. What do you think?”

“I think a pet would be fine, but you gotta decide which one you want.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“We’ll see.” Her eyes drifted south, and a wicked smile crossed her face as she asked, “You up for a little company?”

“Absolutely.”

Seconds later, Jules was in the shower next to me, and I finally felt like myself again. We spent the night making love, and the next morning, we got up and drove down to the local pound. After going back and forth, Jules had decided on a cat, thinking it would be easier to take care of, and I agreed with her—until we spotted Roscoe, a gray and white French bulldog.

Jules immediately fell in love. She sat down by his kennel and started loving on him through the wire bars. “Isn’t he just precious!”

“He’s pretty cute.”

“We gotta get him.”

“I thought you wanted a cat.”

“I did.” She pursed her lips into a pout. “But he’s so sweet and ‘wittle.”

“You’ll have to potty train him.”

“Okay.”

“Gotta kennel train him, too.”

“Okay. I can do that.”

“You’re sure about this?” I pushed. “You really want a dog and not a cat?”

“Yeah, but only if you want him, too.” She pulled her hand from the cage and stood. “I mean, I don’t want him to just be my dog.I want him to be our dog.”

“You gonna be willing to keep the name Roscoe?”

“Well, yeah. I think it suits him.”

Her smile got me right in the gut, and I knew there was no way in hell I was leaving that pound without that dog. “Then, I guess we’re gettin’ a dog.”

“Yes!”

Jules jumped up and wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tightly. I was about to hug her back when she released me and knelt back down to Roscoe’s kennel. She opened the door, and the second she lifted him into her arms, he started licking her face. “I love him!”

“Something tells me I’m gonna regret this.”

We left the pound and went straight to a local pet store, where we spent a small fortune buying everything we’d need to house a dog. I might’ve complained if it hadn’t been for the enormous smile on my girl’s face. Seeing her so happy made me forget about all the bullshit with James—almost.

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