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And then the doors rattled, and they kept rattling. The continuous shaking of the double doors didn’t look like something the dogs would be able to do.
“Ollie!” I called.
The doors stilled, a signal that he was here and saying some pointless shit that I couldn’t hear on the other side.
The wood left stains on my hand as I lifted it and tossed it to the side.
The doors pushed open, almost hitting me. I stepped into the gap, but it wasn’t Ollie who jumped out.
It was a fucking dog, and the furry fucking mongrel’s big dirty feet stabbed into my stomach as he jumped up on my body. I winced, wrestling to keep his awful breath and raised lip away from my face. His paw against my stitches distracted me as I let the thought of an infection slide into my mind.
He opened his mouth wide, repeatedly barking in my face. His spit landed on my nose, causing more disgusting scents to latch onto me.
I thanked the devil I couldn’t fucking hear.
I pushed at him, trying to get him and his big fucking teeth away from my jugular.
I needed him off, and reaching for my new knife would have been the easy and most obvious solution, but as my big hand covered the entirety of the tiny waist of this German Shepherd-looking thing, I couldn’t fucking do it. I couldn’t kill an aggressive animal, who was only that way from living the shitty life he had.
“Calm the fuck down!”
Suddenly, he stopped, but he wasn’t listening to me, not with panic lacing each syllable.
Ollie stepped into the light. His lips pursed into a whistle before saying stern orders that the animal cowered from.
My back flattened against the shed, and I could feel the sweat running down my spine and seeping through the material of my T-shirt. “Thanks.”
“Thanks for getting me out,” his lips moved.
“You’re welcome,” I panted out the word, pulling up my dirty T-shirt to wipe the sweat from my brow.
“What the fuck is that?”
I didn’t hear Ollie, and I didn’t see his lips, too distracted by the thing moving around my legs and attacking the hem of my pants with its tiny teeth that I was sure, would still leave fucking bruises if the little fuckwit got what he wanted and managed to sink them into my flesh.
I stamped my boot, and the chihuahua scampered, only to return a second later and do the exact same thing. I had to remind myself he had been tortured, too, and that was all that kept me from stomping on the little bastard.
“Remi!” Ollie tugged my shoulder. “What the fuck is that?” Angry eyes locked on my stitches and the blood leaking out beyond the two that had ripped open.
“What a cunt,” I said of the dog, who was still, conveniently enough, sitting calmly.
“Answer me!” a demand fell through Ollie’s lips.
“It was courtesy of the hag yesterday. I’m assuming she wasn’t lying when she said she met you, given where you’ve spent the last fucking half an hour.”
“Remi, the gash. Why didn’t you tell me you were fucking injured?”
“Because I’m fine.”
“Why didn’t Rodregez tell me!”
“Patient confidentiality,” I answered with a cocky raised eyebrow. “Anyway, I’m fine. So, how the fuck did you end up locked in with the mutts?”
“She—the hag, as you call her—was screaming for help. You said there was another girl. I made a stupid fucking judgment call and ended up locked in here. She didn’t even try to fight me. Maybe she was hoping the dogs would eat me.”
“Little did she know, you were a fucking dog whisperer.”
“I love dogs,” Ollie’s knees were pressed to the grass when he scratched the ears of the German Shepherd, who leaned into his touch. The animal stared at me with sad eyes. “Dogs are pack animals. Get one to trust you, and the pack often follows the leader.” He looked down at the animal. “Don’t they, boy. They followed you.” He smiled a genuine smile.
