Page 23 of Twisted Violet
SEVEN
DALLAS
It’s beenthree days since Violet was attacked. Long enough for things to settle, but not long enough for them to feel normal again.
She doesn’t say much when I pick her up from the hospital. Not that I expect her to.
She has to uproot her life again, and she probably isn’t in much of a talking mood.
She’s sitting next to me in the passenger seat with her forehead pressed against the window. She’s not looking at me, she’s not really looking at anything, she’s just watching the city go by in a blur of neon lights.
I think about making a joke or saying something stupid to break the silence, but at the last second, I think better of it.
I don’t know why, but things between us have changed.
Maybe it’s the fact that when she needed someone, she leaned on Rome.Maybe it’s the fact that when she needed someone again, she called Niko.
I’m not mad. I’m glad they were there for her. But still…it stings, just a little.
I grip the steering wheel tighter and turn onto a narrow road lined with redwood trees.
Violet lifts her head from the window. “Where are we going?”
“Gotta pick someone up,” I say, flicking on the blinker. “Won’t take long.”
She blinks at me, a little guarded, like she’s not sure if she should be worried, but then the sign comes into view:
“Wagging Tails Boarding & Daycare.”
She twists in her seat to face me, brow raised. “You have a dog?”
I glance at her. “You sound surprised.”
Her eyes widen. “I just… didn’t know. You never mentioned it.”
I shrug. “I get him boarded while we’re on jobs.”
She fights a smile. “Ilovedogs.”
Something about the way she says it makes my chest tighten. She sounds like she’s admitting a secret. Like it’s something too fragile to say out loud.
“He’s a German Shepherd mix,” I say, pulling into the small gravel lot in front of the pet boarding facility. “His name is Ollie. He’s about 10 months old, and he’s a freaking menace, which is why he can’t come on missions with me.”
I throw the car into park and turn off the engine. “Come meet him?”
She hesitates for a beat, double-checking our surroundings, then unbuckles and follows me out of the truck.
The moment we step inside the building, Ollie loses his mind. I barely get to the counter before he’s trying to leap over it to get to me.
“Jesus, Olls,” I mutter, unclipping his leash from the tech. “You’re gonna break your neck.”
As soon as he’s free he barrels into me, tongue out, paws everywhere, like he has no idea he weighs 50 pounds.
Then he sees Violet.
She kneels instinctively with her hand out, and Ollie goes straight to her, nudging his nose under her hand and licking her palm like he’s known her forever.
“Oh, my God. He’s so cute.” She says as Ollie jumps up and starts licking her face. “You didn’t tell me he was so lovey.”
