She took a few deep breaths.
Before she knew it, she felt a head pushing into her hip, over and over. The hairy demon was either trying to knock her down onto the ground so he could devour her a bit more easily, or he was steering her to provide him a good scratch behind the ear. She opened one eye, then the other to watch him rubbing against her. After a while, it clicked.
“Is he… is he marking me?”
“Yes. Very good.” Jack crossed his arms proudly, as if this were some Disney special. She resisted rolling her eyes at the man. “He likes you. He wants you to know that you now belong to him, and he also wants you to touch him.”
After a few deep breaths, she built up her nerve, and slowly glided her fingertips along the top of his smooth, silky head. A low roar of deep satisfaction emitted from the monster. She did it again, then again, and before she knew it, she was sitting on the couch, petting the wolf, and rubbing under his chin. She’d gotten so caught up in the moment, she only noticed later that Jack had disappeared, and the gun was again leaning against the side of the front door.
He snuck away and left me here with this furry goliath. This animal could have gobbled me down by now, and Jack would be none the wiser. She rubbed her arms and lobbed her gaze from the burning fire to the animal.
Who brings a wolf home, tries to train it, and then names them Diesel? That’s a cute name though. I like it. Jack, you are one fine, resolute, crazy man. Well, he is a seasoned hunter and ranger. I guess if anyone could pull this off, it would be Jack. Wow… I have to admit it, this wolf is so striking… Look at that shiny black coat. I’ve never seen a wolf up close before. It actually looks like an oversized dog. Like a big German Shepherd. I used to love my friend Pageant’s German Shepherd when we were kids. That dog was too big to be in that apartment, though. His name was Harold. She smiled at the memory. Harold was big and clumsy. He was sweet, too. Poor thing dashed into the street and got hit by a car…
She looked back at the fire and shook her head, sorrow filling her. She’d forgotten all about that incident. She’d cried so much when she found out Harold died. She’d never been a big animal person, but that dog had captured her heart somehow. She glanced back at the wolf, but now his eyes were closed. He flopped on the floor, stretched his long legs, and lay there, as if he was exhausted after a very long day. Jack returned from the kitchen with a glass of wine and a bottle of beer. Sitting beside her, he handed her the chilled bubbly beverage.
“Oh, is this champagne?” She sniffed it.
“Yes.”
She smiled and took a sip.
“Are we celebrating something?”
“Nah, just glad to see you is all. I missed you.” He stroked his beard, then winked at her.
She was taken aback by his romantic side. It was nice. Needed. They engaged in small talk, and every now and again, she reached down and petted Diesel. It became natural, as if that animal belonged there.
“…And so, that’s when I told Martha about the dance class, and she took to it. We’ll work out the details.” She took another sip from her glass, then set it on the table. Soon, she’d ask for a refill unless he offered first.
“That sounds good. Proud of you. If anyone can pull that off, you can.” He sighed as if tired, then took a gulp of his beer.
“Thank you.” She massaged her inner thigh, kneading it. The quiet came between them and sat there. Still. She reached for her glass to take a final sip, emptying it completely, but Jack stopped her, grasping her hand.
“Something’s bothering you, and it’s not Diesel. What is it?”
She looked at him, tearing up, and then covered her face with her free hand. Shaking her head back and forth, she realized there was no way out of this. She’d have to come clean. Her world was crumbling around her. She’d been found.
“Cry. Then talk.” He took her in his arms, and she let go, sobbing. Embarrassment filled her at first, then the pain rushed in, taking residence all over her, and it stung like hot air on bruised, delicate skin. She rested her head against his chest, her body twisting. Years of pent-up frustration, secrets, and animosity bled through. Soaking her soul until it flooded and left grimy, indelible stains. She drowned in her misery. Marinated in it. Jack ran his hand along her back, but she knew him now. He was not going to simply let her just lie there and cry all night. He was going to force it out of her if she didn’t deliver the goods on her own.