Page 57 of Dagger

I lower the gun with a muttered curse, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Of course. A damn puppy.”

The little guy doesn’t run, just sits there wagging his tail now like he’s trying to charm his way out of trouble. He’s filthy—his fur’s a mess, and he looks like he hasn’t eaten in days. Sighing, I crouch down, and he tilts his head, giving me the most pitiful look I’ve ever seen. Damn it.

“Come here,” I mutter, holding out a hand. He steps forward hesitantly, sniffing my fingers before pressing his wet nose against my palm. Scooping him up, I realize just how light he is. His paws are huge, though—this little guy’s going to grow into a monster.

I’m heading back toward the house when the door creaks open, and Chloe’s head pokes out. She glances at me, then freezes when she notices what I’m holding.

“I thought I told you to stay put,” I say, narrowing my eyes at her.

She raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with my tone. “And I thought I’d check on you since I heard nothing but silence,” she shoots back. Then her gaze drops to the squirming bundle in my arms, and her expression softens in an instant. “What’s that?”

“Trouble,” I say flatly, holding the puppy up slightly for her to see. “Found him knocking over the trash.”

Chloe steps out onto the porch, her bare feet padding softly on the wood. Her eyes light up when she gets a better look, and she practically melts on the spot. “Oh my God,” she whispers, reaching for him. “Look at him. He’s gorgeous.”

The puppy, as if understanding she’s on his side, wriggles excitedly and licks her hand when she takes him from me. Shecradles him like he’s the most precious thing in the world, cooing softly as he snuggles against her chest.

“He’s filthy,” I point out, though my voice lacks any real bite. “And he’s gonna be huge. You sure you want to take this on?”

Chloe glances up at me, her brow furrowed. “Dagger, he’s a puppy. He’s starving and scared. What do you expect me to do, just leave him out here?”

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “No, I guess not. But we’ve got enough going on without a dog in the mix.”

Her lips twitch, and I know I’ve already lost this argument. “He found us for a reason,” she says simply, her voice quiet but certain.

I watch her for a moment, the way she gently strokes the pup’s dirty fur, and I can feel the tension in my chest loosen just a bit. She’s not wrong—this little mutt stumbled onto our doorstep for a reason, whether I like it or not.

“Fine,” I say, shaking my head. “But he’s your responsibility.”

Her grin is soft but victorious, and she kisses the top of the puppy’s head. “Don’t worry,” she says. “We’ve got this.”

The puppy yips in agreement, his tail wagging furiously, and I can’t help the faint smile that tugs at the corner of my mouth. Maybe this is exactly what we need right now.

Chloe doesn’t hesitate for a second. The moment we’re inside, she grabs a bowl, fills it with water, and sets it down on the kitchen floor. The puppy lunges for it like it’s the first water he’s had in days, lapping it up so quickly I’m worried he’s going to choke.

“Looks like someone’s thirsty,” Chloe says with a soft laugh, already pulling open the fridge. She digs out some leftover chicken and rice and sets it down beside the water. The little guy doesn’t even stop to think, diving into the food with the same desperation.

I lean against the counter, arms crossed, watching her. “You’ve done this before.”

She glances up at me, a small smile tugging at her lips. “What can I say? I’ve got a soft spot for strays.” Then she sinks to the floor, cross-legged next to the puppy, laughing as he makes an absolute disaster of the food and water. Bits of rice and chicken scatter everywhere, water splashes all over the floor, and the pup looks up at her between bites with big, grateful eyes, his tail wagging furiously.

It’s not lost on me how happy she looks, how natural this feels for her. Like taking in a scruffy mutt and making him feel safe is just what she does.

Once the pup has cleaned the plate, licking it spotless, I clear my throat. “We need to get him to a vet,” I say, my tone firm but not harsh. “Make sure he doesn’t have any diseases or anything. That wouldn’t be good for you or the baby.”

Chloe’s smile falters for a moment, just long enough for her to nod seriously. “Good call. I’ll make that happen. But first...” She looks at the pup, now sitting at her feet with his head tilted like he knows he’s the center of attention. “He needs a bath. And a name.”

She tilts her head up at me, her brows raised in question. “What should we call him?”

The word—“we”—hits me harder than I expect. After what we shared a couple of hours ago, I hope she knows we are definitely awe. There’s no going back now.

I crouch down, taking a better look at the scruffy little guy. His fur is a mess, his paws are massive, and there’s something wild and untamed about him—like he’s meant to grow into something powerful. Something unstoppable.

“How about Beast?” I suggest. “Because he’s gonna live up to it when he grows into those paws.”

Chloe grins, looking back at the puppy. “Beast,” she repeats, testing the name out. “What do you think, Beast?” she asks him softly. The pup barks, his tail wagging so hard his whole body shakes, and Chloe laughs, ruffling his ears. “Beast it is.”

She kisses the top of his dirty head, completely unfazed by the mess he’s making, and I can’t help but shake my head, a grin pulling at my lips.

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