Page 18 of Red Flagged

He’d circled around the idea that he should come clean to André about the self-imposed witness protection he and Dani were in, but the man was knee-deep in a murder investigation of his own and didn’t need the distraction of Dante’s problems. At least, that’s what Dante told himself.

And anyway, asking for André’s help would just be an excuse to see him. The likelihood that he didn’t want Dante stopping by for what André thought was casual sex was probably closer to the truth. Dante still hadn’t figured out how to bring up wanting more than that, especially since the chief of police seemed to disappear around the nearest corner anytime Dante was around.

“Zio,” Daniella said from the passenger seat. “Have you thought any more about us getting a dog?”

Seriously? While he was driving?

Dante could feel his niece’s eyes on him. He stared at the road in front of them. The road that led directly past the sign for the Humane Society.

“Today? Right now?” They’d talked about it. Or, rather, Dani had brought the subject up one morning a few weeks ago, before Dante’d had any coffee.

“Please?” she wheedled. “I’d feel safer with a dog. You wouldn’t have to stay home all the time if we had a dog. And I’d be able to walk it and not worry. Don’t you always say that burglar alarms are nothing compared to an old-fashioned dog?”

Dante wracked his brains but couldn’t come up with an argument.

To her credit, Daniella waited for his answer without wavering. Dante steeled himself, working up the courage to say no. He didn’t want a pet. It was hard enough taking care of Daniella. Parenting was incredibly stressful.

Maybe he needed to take up yoga or something to relax him. Sex would be good, but there was only one person he wanted that with. From Dear’s expression the last time he’d managed to catch his eye, before André found a corner to disappear around, Dante figured the man would rather punch him than go to bed with him.

No thinking about sex around his niece.

She was right. He had said dogs were better than alarm systems. And it was true. But having his niece repeat the words back to him in order to get her own way was beyond brutal. Especially when she was probably resorting to puppy-dog eyes. He kept his own firmly on the highway.

“Research says that walking a dog is one of the best things for mental health.”

It was as if she could sense him weakening.

He was a sucker.

“I’ll think about it,” he replied, shooting a quick glance at his niece.

A small smile played across Daniella’s lips. “Zio, everyone knows ‘I’ll think about it’ means ‘yes.’”

Damn. He’d hoped Daniella would forget about wanting a pet. Why couldn’t she want something simple? Like a goldfish? Or a pet rock? He’d had one of those in elementary school and it hadn’t died. Although his fuckass of a brother had thrown it into the ravine behind their house, so in a way it had died.

It was difficult enough learning how to grocery shop for the two of them, which is where they were headed now, not the Humane Society. The grocery store. Hell on earth in Dante’s opinion, but a necessary one.

“Romy—” Daniella began.

“Please, Daniella, don’t start with how Romy has a dog. We are not like them.”

There was a palpably hurt silence. Shit. Dante gripped the steering wheel and opened his mouth to apologize.

“Romy doesn’t have a dog,” his niece said before he could say a word, “but Mr. Barone’s boyfriend and his mom both do, and Romy gets to walk them all the time.”

One of those dogs had found Lizzy Harlow.

“Right.” Now he felt like complete shit. The worst uncle on the planet. Definitely didn’t deserve to be called zio.

“But I would feel even safer with a dog. And you wouldn’t have to stay home all the time. I mean, what if you want to go on a date or something?”

Dante wanted to shut his eyes, but he was driving and had no desire to end up in a ditch. Daniella knew Dante was gay, he’d never hidden it from her, or anyone for that matter. But he wasn’t talking about his love life with a nearly sixteen-year-old girl.

They passed the Gray’s Harbor Humane Society sign. The rest of the drive to the grocery store was completed in silence. The only sounds came from the car’s tires on the road and the swish of the windshield wipers trying to keep the raindrops at bay.

Out of habit, he parked at the back of the lot, away from other vehicles.

“Why do we always have to park way out here?” Daniella complained as they trudged through the rain to the store’s entrance.

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