Page 33 of Surly Sheriff
Kismet got to his feet and emitted a low growl.
“It’s okay, boy,” Rae soothed, accepting the device.
Beau rattled off his code, making her repeat it. “Call if you need me. The number is in my contacts underHome.”
“Okay.”
“Promise?”
Rae huffed. “If anything happens to make me afraid, I will call 911, andthencall you. Now go, your family needs you.”
He gave her a searching look, compressed his lips, turned, and stormed out the door.
*
She was in a long, dark hallway, with large cages along the sides. She heard a soft cry, and she turned her head.
A young girl watched her from inside the cage. “Help us,” the girl said, grasping the wire, fingers reaching through the gaps.
She looked around and saw more girls.
They were all inside the cages.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
Then the scene changed, and she was hiding behind a stack of crates. She wanted to move forward, but a hand closed over her mouth. “Shh,” a fierce voice whispered in her ear.
Rae woke with her heart pounding. Something cold nudged her hand, and she screamed, shooting upright in the bed, blinking rapidly, trying to focus. The light spilling in from the hallway through the half-open doorway allowed enough illumination for her to see the whole room.
Kismet stood beside the bed, his body rigid.
She pulled in a ragged breath and patted the bed. “Come.”
The hound needed no second bidding, and Rae sagged back to the mattress, taking Kismet with her. She buried her face in the silky fur, gliding her hand across his still-too-thin ribcage, fighting the tears away.
“Just a dream, Rae. Just a dream.”
But shewasafraid, though. So very, very afraid.
But she did not call Beau.
He did not need her level of brokenness in his life.
8
Belonging
Monday dawned bright and far too soon, and Rae dragged her body from bed, squinting against the bright sunlight streaming through the windows. Disjointed dreams had chased her the entire night, leaving her physically and emotionally drained. She stumbled to the bathroom, the call of nature more urgent than her desperate need for caffeine. She massaged her aching temples with her fingertips. If only she could recall what tormented her so, she could deal with it and put it behind her, but dammit, there was nothing shedding light on her newly discovered fear of cages.
Nothing but a black hole of … well, nothingness.
Then again, considering my history, do I evenwantto remember?
Head throbbing anew, she sat back, and with a shuddering sigh, got to her feet and flushed the toilet. Something brushed against the back of her calves. “Argh!” she cried out and spun around.
“Woof!”
“Kismet!” Hand clutched to her chest, she scowled at the dog.
