I’d made sure of it after Cannel had been taken from us.
There was no way in hell I would go through that again.
“You’re right,” she sighed. “But still…”
Still, anything could happen.
“Ask her for hourly updates,” I said. “If she doesn’t want me involved, she’ll go out of her way to tell you as long as you don’t tell me.”
Again, I wasn’t sure what lines Trista’d been feeding her lately, but she was acting squirrelly whenever I asked what she was doing and who she was doing it with.
It’d come to a point where I didn’t even ask her anymore because I didn’t want her to freak out and leave.
“Don’t forget she was supposed to be watching your dog,” Cannel sang.
I cursed.
“Son of a bitch,” I grumbled. “I forgot about that asshole.”
She snickered. “I know you did.”
“Goddammit.” I sighed. “That dog will be the death of me.”
Just a few years ago, my ex-wife had insisted that we needed a family protection dog.
Me, being the sucker that I was for my family, had agreed.
Only, I hadn’t realized that Trista didn’t like dogs, nor did she want one because it was for our family. But she wanted it so she could leave the dog at home with our kids while she left to do other things while I worked.
It was only as I’d found two fucking walls and a goddamn ceiling in the laundry room torn up that I realized that Body—Body being the shortened version of Busybody—only acted out when he was left alone with no one to protect.
Meaning, all of the kids had been out of the house while Trista had been doing fuck knew what—which hadn’t been at home with my eighteen-year-old daughter, and my twelve-year-old son.
Now, four years after getting the damn mutt, I questioned every day whether or not I should give him to someone that could give him more attention than we did.
Trista had very clearly let me know that her new condo didn’t allow pets, meaning that I was stuck with him even though she’d wanted him.
Not that I was complaining. Body was a good dog when he had the attention or the focus that he needed.
And he and Boston got along great when Boston actually deigned to grace us with his presence.
Boston, my sixteen-year-old heartthrob soccer star, thought he was God’s gift to womenkind.
Meaning, I barely saw him because he had better things to do than be home when he could be out hanging and partying with his friends.
But the kid got straight As and was always home before curfew, so I couldn’t complain.
What I could complain about was my daughter leaving when she knew she was supposed to be watching the dog. When she’d assured me that she would.
“I’ll text her and see what’s up,” I finally admitted. “Let me know when you get there, and that everything is okay.”
I still had nightmares when it came to my little sister.
Nightmares that haunted me day and night.
“Love you, big brother,” she sang. “I’ll watch over your girl for you.”
Relief swelled inside of me at the sound of her voice. I loved hearing the happiness there.
I loved even more that she was back from that dark place that had been slowly carrying her further and further away from me.
That was one thing that I could say about her husband, Will. A cop and an altogether great guy that I was proud to call my brother-in-law—even if he was a cop.
He was everything that Cannel hadn’t known she’d needed.
“Love you, too,” I said before she hung up on me.
“Who’s that?”
I ignored my employee, Comfort, and texted my daughter.
Me: I know that you are not going to leave that dog at home alone while you fuck off to Vegas without telling me.
Clem: how did you know that I’m going to Vegas? Are you watching my bank account?
Me: No. Your aunt is on the same flight as you, only in the good seats and not nosebleed. Be good. Make sure you check in. Make sure someone knows where you are at all times. And for God’s sake, make sure you use a condom if you’re going to fuck some useless boy. They don’t know how to take care of kids at your age.
Clem: wow. I can’t believe you don’t have more faith in me.
Me: I have faith in you, honey. It’s the other gender that I don’t have faith in.
Clem: I have an app on my phone. Mom has a list of everywhere that I’m going to be, as does Sophia. She’s staying at the house until you can get home.
The mention of Sophia instantly did things to my body.
I was way too many years fucking years older than her.
Hell, I’d watched her grow up right alongside my daughter.
I should not, under any circumstances, see her as anything other than a goddamn twenty-two-year-old.