Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“You got it from here,” he said when the material was reachable. And you had to appreciate a guy who didn’t take advantage and make you uncomfortable by pulling a strange woman’s pants all the way up.
“Thanks,” I said, meaning it.
“Gave Storm some water in a bowl, but as soon as you’re settled, I’ll pick him up some food, if you give me a brand.”
“I don’t have my cash—“
“Did I ask for money?” he cut me off.
And, having no response to that, I gave him the name, wishing I could ask him to pick up some treats and toys for him trying everything in his power to save my life and get me rescued. But I couldn’t spend someone else’s money, so I said nothing.
“How’s the throat feeling? Think you can choke down some pasta?”
“I think I could handle that,” I said, even if the thought of eating anything made me sure it was going to be like swallowing glass. But my empty stomach was twisting too painfully to ignore.
“Alright. I’m out then. Help yourself to whatever,” he said, waving at the apartment in general before making his way out of the bathroom. “Someone is waiting for you,” he said, leaving the door open for Storm to come rushing in.
“Hey, baby,” I cooed, rubbing his head. “You’re the bestest boy, you know that?” I asked, feeling grateful tears prick my eyes. “Let’s go get settled, okay?” I asked, wobbling my way out to the living room, and lowering myself down near the pillows and blankets Silvano had left there for me. He even thought to drop the TV remote on the top of the pillows. And a bottle of water was on the coffee table.
“What do you think of Silvano?” I asked as Storm stared up at me from the floor. “I don’t know if he’s okay with you on the furniture, bud,” I said, rubbing his head in an apology.
He didn’t seem to mind, curling up on my feet, and letting out a deep sigh. Like he’d been stressed all day. He probably had been. Worried about me, then being taken in a car, then dropped off with a stranger where he was stuck for hours before taking another long car ride, before, finally, finding himself in a house again. Albeit a much nicer one than the cabin.
Alone, I reached for the remote, needing something on to drown out the swirling thoughts that wouldn’t leave me alone.
It felt like forever that Silvano was gone. And a glance at the clock said it was a few hours. But, finally, I heard the rustling of bags and the jingle of keys in the door. The sound had Storm shooting up to his feet, his stance aggressive, ready to protect me again, but then relaxing as soon as he saw Silvano.
“I should offer to help,” I said, waving toward my bum arm.
“Please, that mom who’d box my ears over not offering you the bed would also tan my hide for letting a woman who was nearly killed help me with the bags,” he said, kicking the door closed behind him.
“Did you buy the whole store?” I asked as he came near me, dropping a bunch of the bags on the coffee table.
“Just a-fucking-bout,” he said.
Storm let out a whine, looking at me expectantly. At Silvano’s brow raise, I shrugged. “I didn’t know if you were okay with him on the furniture,” I admitted.
“I don’t give a fuck,” he said, in such an offhanded way that a smile crept across my face as I patted the cushion next to me.
I watched as Silvano took out a set of dog bowls.
“The chick at the store said ceramic was the best,” he said, shrugging as he reached for a small bag of Storm’s food. “Know this won’t get him far, but I couldn’t carry more. So I’ll have some delivered. Got him the wet food too,” he said, pulling out some cans. “And the same brand’s treats. Oh, and this,” he said, reaching for a stuffed lamb that had Storm bounding off the couch, tail about to propel off of his body.
Silvano chucked the toy toward the kitchen, and Storm ran over to grab it, squeaking it incessantly for a moment as Silvano kept rattling off items he’d picked up for a dog that wasn’t even his. Dental chews. A toothbrush and appropriate paste. Potty bags. Waterless bath wipes. “For his feet,” he said at my scrunched brows. “City ground is fucking gross,” he said, shrugging it off.
Right.
Yeah.
He was kind of a neat freak.
“I’ll pay you back for all of this,” I said, even if I had no idea how I would manage that.
“No the fuck you won’t,” he said, very matter-of-fact, like it was no big deal that he’d dropped hundreds on my dog. “Alright, also got you some… cough drops for your throat and some girl shit,” he said, waving toward some of the other bags.