Chapter 11

“Hold on. I’m coming.” Opening the door, his eyes fell upon a man of medium build and height in a scruffy jacket.

“Tyron Nard. You got a dog for sale? Mortimer sent me to get it off your hands.”

Nathan opened the door, stood aside. “Yeah. Come on in.”

The man scanned the room with narrowed eyes, then shook his head. “Best you bring him out for me and my boy to see. He’s over there in the car. We’ll wait outside.”

“Okay. I’ll get him.” Leaving the door open, he turned to call Ryker. Still in the corner, as far away from the door as he could possibly be.

Animals know things. They can tell the heart, the soul of a person. They know.

Had his mom said that? She’d said so many things, and they’d often just pop into his head.

But the agreement about Ryker was essentially made. And he needed the money. How much would he get? Uncle had left that bit to him. He’d settle that first.

He stepped onto the porch, slapped his arms briskly to warm up. “Uncle said you weren’t able to find a dog elsewhere. Had you two discussed price?”

Nard shrugged. “I need a dog. You need cash. Dog’s not worth much, crap breed, is my understanding. Drop it off in the woods somewhere as soon as feed it. But my boy needs companionship and we need protection, out here in the woods. Gonna make a hunter of it. Three hundred?”

The dog wasn’t worth that much. This was too easy. Must be an underhanded deal between him and Uncle. Pulling a wad of bills from his pocket, the man counted off twenties. “That about do it?” He pressed the money into Nathan’s hand. “Now. The dog.”

And Ryker was sold, just like that.

“Uh…” He frowned, letting the bills sit in his palm, not closing his fingers over the stack. “He’s a good dog. Had a bit of a rough start.”

Nard snorted. “I’m not likely to kill the thing. I just paid three hundred bucks for it.” He yelled toward the vehicle. “Tommy!”

Kill the thing?

The car door pushed open, and an angry little boy got out, about nine. Scrawny, with messed up hair, he was nonetheless presentable in cut-off shorts, a clean t-shirt and Velcro-ed boots. “Yeah.”

“Over here. Come meet your dog.”

The sullen look on the kid’s face could melt stone. He crammed the money into his pocket. “Upset, is he?”

“Kids is kids. You got any?”

And there was that hollow feeling again. Nathan shook his head. “Nah.”

“Well, when you get your own, you’ll see. They think what they want, do what they want. You just have to…expand their horizons. Get them focused on something new, all the time.” He scratched his head under the cap. “Now…the dog?”

“I’ll get him.” He turned, suddenly caught in a story he didn’t like. But the man had just paid $300 for Ryker. It wouldn’t make sense he’d mistreat him.

Ryker certainly wouldn’t do well staying with him. Barely any money for food, no money for toys or fun. He simply had nothing to give the animal.

Back in the cabin, Ryker had moved to far under the bed. Nathan managed to pull him out, barely evaded getting the tiny teeth sunk into his fingers, then picked him up, cradling him in his arms, keeping his mouth from his hands. He spoke to the top of his furry head. “It’ll be all right, boy. You’re going to your new home. And they have cash. Money. M-O-N-E-Y. That’s something I don’t have, and you need it.”

The puppy’s gaze bored into him.

“I’m telling you, I don’t have any. That cheap steak I fed you last night and this morning? That was a one-off. I can’t afford to get you any more. The money’s going on the car, the rent. The taxes.”

Ryker wiggled in his arms, shifted, then laid his head on Nathan’s arm, stared into his eyes.

“That’s enough. We’re going.” He left the cabin carrying the pup, each step feeling…wrong.

The Nards were waiting. The boy had planted both his feet solidly, and again, Nathan noted the severe look of appraisal. But when he saw the puppy, his face lit up. “Blade! Here, boy!”

Blade?

Tyron patted his son’s shoulder. “You settled on a good one, boy. Though I liked Fury too.”

Blade? Fury? Had these people looked at this dog?

But the child had taken over. Nathan let the dog roll out of his arms, a little bundle of legs and tan body, onto the ground in front of them. The child snapped his fingers. “Heel!”

Ryker just sat there, a questioning look in his dark eyes as the boy persisted in barking the same word, and louder each time as the dog got more confused.

“Don’t be so loud,” he suggested. “He’s a good dog. He’ll listen. He just needs…”

“Creatures got to learn who’s master. We’re not soft in the woods. Right, son?”

Tension gnawed at his gut as the boy’s cries punctuated the air.

And Ryker. He’d shrunk, practically to nothing.

“He’ll learn.” The father dug in his pocket, pulled out a thick lead, and handed it to his son. “Chain ‘im. Yours now, bought and paid. Got to learn who’s master.” He turned to Nathan, smiled proudly. “That’s what the internet says. Pat him, son. Give him some affection before you command him again.”

Nathan’s cell rang, just then. Damn. He’d left it on the kitchen table. He didn’t want to leave this interaction. But he’d made a slew of important calls, was waiting on responses.

“Don’t go yet.” Then added, as an incentive, “I have his stuff to get you still.”

On the phone in the cabin, he found to his dismay, that it was a utilities rep he’d left a message for about turning heat on in the cabin. Usually it was two weeks just to get an appointment set sometime in the future. Damn it. He had to take the call. And then the rep put him on hold to check a mistake he’d found in the cabin’s address.

But he kept his eyes on his front yard, the door wide open.

Saw the child stand up, then yank hard on Ryker’s leash.

The dad pulled something else from his belt. A coil of thick, knotted rope. The child’s fingers clamped around it, and a cocky, knowing smile appeared on his face.

And the little monster raised the rope, whipped it down harshly.

Nathan saw it travelling through the air, as if in slow motion, and he physically jumped when it struck the puppy’s back.

He tossed the phone and ran.