Page 25 of A Malicious Menagerie
“Don’t worry,” I say, my voice coming out shaky. I clear my throat and force myself to sound unaffected. “He’s not as good a conversationalist as you are.”
The wolf looks cheered by that news, which is puzzling but kind of adorable. “You don’t need to worry about me,” I tell him, assuming that that was the cause of his negative reaction. After all, Fionn is a predator, through and through. Just a pretty one. I don’t know that I’d go so far as to say he’s an angler fish like John did, but the comparison wasn’t entirely inaccurate. “I can take care of myself. After all, I’ve had a lot of practice.”
My tone is joking, but he doesn’t look reassured. His ears droop, and he lets out a low whine that I haven’t heard him make before.
“Really, I’m okay,” I reassure him gently. “Better, now that Nan is taken care of. And,” I flush, wondering if I’m actually going to say this, “now that I have you. I haven’t had a friend in a long time, and I know you’re not… well. We’re not the same species. But seeing you makes me happy.”
The look he gives me… the only way to describe it iswarm.He inches forward and presses his snout to the iron bars, and I know what he wants. Just like yesterday, I carefully touch my fingertips to his muzzle and stroke the velvety spot right above his nose.
Suddenly, a high-pitched beeping sound shatters the moment, and I jerk my hand back to silence my watch. “Sorry, just my alarm. I should feed you and move on.” Is it just me, or does he look disappointed? I have to stop seeing in him what I want to see. It’s not fair to either of us. “I’m off the next two days,” I blurt, trying to distract myself. “It’ll just be you and John.” Then, I add dryly, “I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear that.”
He growls again. This time, I’m expecting the sound, so it makes me laugh instead of recoil. “I know. But I’ll be back soon. Be good, alright?”
He looks mildly offended, and I chuckle as I wave and move toward the freezer.
I’m going to miss my sweet wolf.
13
The Mistake
My days off fly by in the blink of an eye.
Admittedly, they’re the first days off I’ve had in about three years, so they were always guaranteed to not feel like enough. The first thing I do is catch up on sleep, staying in bed for almost sixteen hours that first day before going to visit Nan for a while. I also shop for groceries, luxuriating in being able to buy things like fresh fruits and name-brand cereals instead of ramen noodles. I even call a plumber to fix my hot water, and I have my first hot shower in over six months.
I groan so loud and long at that first touch of hot water that the neighbors probably think I’m getting busy under the spray. Seriously, though, having hot water after so many lukewarm showers is far better than sex. At least, better than my limited experience with it.
I spend the rest of that second day in a bathrobe, letting my hair air dry and catching up on TV shows that have been on my watch list foryearswithout any time to get to them.Breaking Bad? Totally worth the hype.
Still, there’s a little sliver of guilt eating at me even while I’m picking out whole grain bread at the store and shaving my legs without shivering. My comfort is being funded by the captivity of every person and creature in the menagerie, including my wolf. But how can I go back to scrimping and barely scraping by andstillnot being able to guarantee that Nan can stay in her nursing home? And how can I go back to the mundane world of cleaningfloors and waiting tables after everything I’ve seen and done?
And now, there’s a new factor to think about. If I don’t keep this job, I’ll lose my wolf, who has somehow become so vital to me within just a few days. How can I just accept that I’ll never see him again?
When I go back to work, my belly is full of butterflies and snakes. The feeling is only intensified when John greets me in the breakroom by scowling. “Did you steal my yogurt?” he asks with no preamble.
“Didn’t peg you as the yogurt type,” I snipe back. “And no, I didn’t steal your yogurt.”
“I had two yogurt cups in here,” he insists, pointing into the open fridge. “And now they’re gone. Who else would have stolen them?”
I shrug. “One of the guards?” There are a handful around at any given time. They mostly keep to themselves, my encounter with Colby notwithstanding. But they use the breakroom, too, so I run into them every so often when they’re eating dinner.
“Never had a yogurt thief until you started here,” he grumbles, eyeing me suspiciously.
“Oh, my God, John, I didnotsteal your yogurt.”
“You just seem the type,” he argues, digging his grave one shovelful at a time.
“The ‘type,’” I repeat testily. “And what type is that?”
“Shifty. Desperate.”
“Wow,” I reply, affronted. “Just goes to show you don’t know me at all. I didnotsteal your damn yogurt, but if you want to keep thinking I did, go right ahead. I don’t care what you think of me.” I toss my backpack into my locker and slam it shut with a resoundingclang.“I’ll get started on the woods and call you when I’m done.” I grab one of the walkie-talkies off the counter and clip it to my belt before stomping out the door and into the warren of hallways beyond.
I quickly navigate my way to the woods and emerge into the shade of the trees. The rich, earthy scents and gentle rustle of leaves only slightly cool my indignation. The nerve of that guy, getting all upset over a couple of yogurts and blaming me!
I’m still growling and grumbling under my breath as I make my way to the wolf enclosure. I rip open the meat freezer, grabbing a few cuts of beef before slamming the lid shut again. Arms full, I nearly drop a rack of ribs, and I scowl and curse as I juggle my load back up into my arms. I swipe my access card and slip through the door before banging it shut behind me. With absolutely zero grace, I waddle my way over to the cement slab and deposit my load.
With my task done and fury ebbing, some of my excitement at seeing my wolf floods back in. I raise my head to look toward the divider, an apology for my poor attitude and not immediately greeting him on my lips, but I freeze in place when all I see is uninterrupted trees.
