Dangerous Temptation (Dark Dream 1)

“He’s beautiful,” I murmured, which was true.

He looked to be a silvery grey pit bull mix of some kind, with big blue eyes and a sloppy grin. He wasn’t nearly tragic enough to be named after Picasso, but I loved that Brando had tried to think of a name I’d like too.

“He’s a trained seizure dog,” Walcott explained as the two gentlemen crossed the hall to our side and Ezra closed the open door behind me. “Ostensibly, he should be able to detect when Brando begins to have an aura and alert us or protect him until someone can get there. Picasso will lie against his body to keep him stable during the seizure or clear the space around him of clutter so he doesn’t harm himself.”

“What?” I whispered, something indistinct clutching my throat.

Walcott’s kind eyes were warm on me as he stepped closer to squeeze my shoulder. “We all saw what happened in the kitchen and none of us want that to happen again. Tiernan started searching out the best training facilities the night after Brando’s episode. When it happened again last week, he paid to bypass the waitlist.” Walcott shrugged as if it was no big deal, as if my heart wasn’t exploding in my chest. “We all have to have training for the next three weeks to make sure we know how to handle Picasso, but after that, he should be able to make a real difference to Brando’s life.”

There was something wrong with my knees. They wobbled like poorly set gelatin. Before I could lock them tight, they collapsed, taking me to the ground. Seconds later, Picasso himself was on me, licking my chin.

“He likes you,” Brando told me proudly, scooting over on his bum so that he could wedge himself between my splayed legs and rest against my chest. He called Picasso to him and the dog happily curled up on his lap with his chops on Brando’s chest, tongue lolling.

“Do you like him, Anca?” he asked again, tipping his head back, then giggling as the dog licked his chin. “Can I keep him? Tiernan told me it’s my late birthday present!”

Emotions clogged my throat in an ugly, swollen mass that made it hard to breathe let alone talk, so I only nodded and kissed the side of my little brother’s curly head.

Ezra caught my eyes and signed slowly because I was still getting the hang of ASL, Tiernan is in his office if you want to speak to him.

He meant if I wanted to say thank you.

I flinched slightly at the mention of his office, the scene of my sexual crimes. Slowly, I shook my head at him and hugged my brother tight before I let go and surged to my feet.

“I’m going to go for a run,” I declared, desperate to get out of the house before I broke down for everyone to hear.

Ezra and Walcott frowned in tandem, the latter saying, “I don’t think Tiernan would like that. He, uh, doesn’t want you gallivanting around Bishop’s Landing. It can be a dangerous place.”

My laugh was hard and hollow. “Bishop’s Landing is the wealthiest strip of land in the country. I doubt I’ll be mugged on the sidewalk, Wally.”

Still, he looked worried. “Let me talk to Tiernan before you leave.”

I shrugged, already jogging up the right curved staircase to my room. I had no intention of waiting for Tiernan to “sanction” my desire to go for a jog. I was seventeen for God’s sake and I’d taken care of a seven-year-old boy for most of my life. I was responsible enough to go for a run and not get myself killed.

I shucked my uniform quickly, trading it for black spandex shorts and a sports bra Tilda had forced me to buy because apparently my ratty old tees weren’t acceptable now that I was a makeshift McTiernan. I grabbed my earbuds from my school bag and raced back through the hall and down the staircase, pushing through the door just as Walcott appeared at the mouth to the other hall, calling after me.

The door slammed shut on my name and I was off like it was the firing shot at the starting line.

I realized as I sprinted through the small pedestrian gate in the massive walls guarding Lion Court that I hadn’t yet explored the perfectly landscaped scope of Bishop’s Landing beyond Tiernan’s gothic manor. I took a left out the gates and started down the road along the curve of the ocean, passing massive lots filled with expensive homes, manicured lawns, tennis courts and heated pools wafting hot mist into the cool spring evening.

Music pumped through my earbuds, the echoing melancholic strains of Imogen Heap filling my ears as the sentiment echoed through my heart. I was running away from Tiernan, from the calamity of emotions he beat out of my chest with each passing day. I’d spent the last few weeks wondering why a cruel man like Tiernan would take in two orphans and I knew it wasn’t simply out of the ‘goodness of his heart.’ He was guarded and rude, clearly out to get something from Brando and me, maybe something to do with Aida, but more likely, something to do with my father.