Quit Bein' Ugly (The Southern Gentleman 3)

He wrinkled his nose. “She doesn’t look like she’ll bite.”

“I didn’t think so back then either,” I admitted. “And to answer your earlier question, I only have the house that we pulled her out of. The occupants had moved out, leaving her tied up in the basement. The new homeowner found her after they moved in two weeks after closing. She was almost starved to death. Luckily the air conditioner was down there, and she drank out of the pan from the condensation.”

“Bitches,” he said. “Did you ever find the old occupants?”

“No,” I sighed. “They tried to, but they moved to California, never to be seen again.”

“People suck,” he muttered.

I agreed wholeheartedly.

“We got her out. Had to tranq her, though. She was seriously a fighter. Scared to death, too. When we finally got her into a pen, she freaked out even more. I had to let her run free in my back yard for the longest of times before she would even let me come close to her.” I shook my head. “I think it was being outside that made her so… amenable. It was only when she came back inside with me that she started to kind of go back into hiding.”

“Sounds like a mess,” Croft murmured, his hand falling still on Danger’s head. “Alaskan Malamutes are fuckin’ heavy coated breeds, too. She’ll get hot outside.”

I scrubbed my face. “I know. I put her a pool out at my house. Her and Francis turned out to be friends of a sort. Shared their food and their pool. I think Francis is mad at me that I found Danger a home.”

“Why didn’t you keep her?” he asked quietly, his words sounding slightly slurred.

His pain pill was finally kicking in.

“Because I have too many dogs that need my help. And I thought Danger was going to love it there,” I admitted.

But there was no reply.

Nor was there an easing of my guilt.

I shouldn’t have given her away.

He was right. I should’ve kept her. But I’d honestly thought that she would love that family. I’d just been trying to do what was best for Danger.

And look how that turned out.

CHAPTER 10

As long as I have a face, you’ll always have somewhere to sit.

-Text from Croft to Carmichael

CROFT

I was lying in my bed alone the next morning, and I really, really fuckin’ wished that I’d told the judge that I wouldn’t be coming in today.

Only, I’d misspoke, and now I was going to be forced to go in whether I wanted to or not.

Easing out of the bed, I kept myself distracted by thinking of Carmichael.

She’d left last night around nine, and she’d taken my dog with her.

Why?

Because Danger and Lion had really hit it off, and Danger had needed a friend. So, I’d let her go home with my dog.

That, and I’d wanted to make sure that she had extra protection.

We’d gotten word from Flint last night that there hadn’t been anything or anyone found in connection to the break-in at Carmichael’s place, or my shooting.

Meaning, whoever had done it was still out there.

But, while we’d been out yesterday, Flint had been busy.

He’d put a full security system into Carmichael’s place. And when I say full security system, I was talking top-of-the-line, only the people that had the connections, security system.

I wasn’t sure how Flint had gotten his hands on it, but I’d been damned impressed.

Still, I’d sent her with Lion just in case.

I hadn’t slept well last night, either.

I’d been thinking of all the things that could potentially go wrong.

Like what if I didn’t hear her in the middle of the night and something happened? What if someone got in despite the tricked-out security system? What if I physically wasn’t capable of helping her?

Needless to say, as I shuffled my way to the bathroom, the very last fucking thing that I wanted to do was go try a case.

But I didn’t have a choice.

I had exactly an hour and a half until I had to be at the courthouse, and shot or not, Judge Stanley would not be forgiving if I was late.

Getting through my normal daily routine, I was just getting to the point where I put the button-up shirt on when I realized that it wouldn’t be happening.

Though I was moving a little better today, tiny buttons and a screaming arm were not for me.

That, and I needed the bandage changed and I couldn’t reach the exit wound at my back.

Plus, I could really use an excuse to go see the sexy little thing across the street.

Finishing up everything that I could on my end and taking some drugs to hopefully hold me over, I grabbed my shirt, tie, suit jacket, keys and phone before heading out the door.

The walk to Carmichael’s place took less than a minute, and I was surprised to find that, although it felt fairly bad, I was moving a whole lot better than I had the day before. Things didn’t absolutely kill me when I walked. More like a dull throb.