Page 53 of I'm Not Your Pet

Then I nodded again.

And my eyes burned as I curled into him, my own chest shuddering as a hot tear spilled down my cheek. I was so fucking glad I hadn’t frightened him too much. That he forgave me. Because that was what this was. Forgiveness.

Roark purred to soothe me, and as always it worked. My tears slowed, and we clung to one another, the difficult day drifting away as the stars above us danced.

Roark held me like I was precious.

No one had ever done that before.

I was slowly but surely going insane.

It’d been a week since the Hallway-Terror-Incident and Roark had been missing most of every night since. Nightmares plagued him during the few short hours we spent in bed together. Demons I couldn’t even ask him about. I was really, truly doing my best to be patient. Or Ihadbeen. Until Roark returned with red spots one night and I saw motherfucking red myself.

I vowed—that if the big pink softie was cheating on me I would find out. I would find out and I would chop off his balls with his own monstrously huge dental floss and my dullest, bluntest molars, so help me god.

I didn’t actually think he would do that.

I didn’t.

Roark wasn’t that kind of guy.

But I also knew I was little more than a pet to him. And my own insecurity came rearing up like a slap to the face. I’d never been loved before. Never been appreciated. And I guess…my brain wanted to come up with any possible reason not to believe that Roark would pick me, of all people.

It was easier to believe that he would choose someone else—especially after I’d scared him. I knew he’d forgiven me. But…forgiving myself was another matter entirely. I hated this part of me. I really did.

Sitting alone all day made the thoughts spin and spin.

Small worries became monumental, and without anything to distract my mind, all I could do was stew. My brain had always worked quickly. It was why I’d been considered intelligent back home. But it also meant that without stimulation, it turned on itself.

Tearing me apart piece by piece, bit by bit, the doubt creeping in with every lonely night that passed.

I knew the code to the door. And after scaring Roark, I truly hadn’t planned on doing anything that could bring that sort of reaction out again. But…desperate times called for desperate measures.

And Ineededto know what was going on.

I needed to understand. So I could plan accordingly. So I could stop falling in love with him, if Roark didn’t want me anymore. So that my brain would shut the fuck up and leave me alone.

The next night, I feigned sleep.

Roark disturbed the warm cocoon of our blankets, murmured something against my temple with one of his rubbery nose kisses, then rose to his feet. I watched through my lashes as he pulled on what I had privately dubbed his “day pants.” His thick ass tested the seam, bare back rippling as he stretchedfrom side to side. He glanced at me, and I shut my eyes, pretending still, careful so that my breathing wouldn’t pick up.

He was observant.

Way fucking observant.

I wasn’t even sure I’d get away with this at all.

But I did. Because when I next opened my eyes it was because I could hear the beep of Roark’s fingers tapping the password into the keypad at the door. It swung open with a quiet hiss, a beam of light from the hallway creeping into the darkened room. Golden, it spread across the floor, Roark’s shadow cutting through it.

The nanobots I’d been training while Roark had been away beeped unhappily where they rested in stasis underneath the bed, not at all pleased by the disruption to their programmed slumber.

Behind Roark, the door slid shut with finality.

My heart was pounding as I waited with what felt like an expert level of patience for all of thirty seconds.Patient, patient. But not too patient—I reminded myself, before I bolted to the keypad, tapped the password in, and slipped into the hall after my wayward owner.

It wasn’t hard to find him, the dude had elephant feet.

All I had to do was follow the thunking.

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