Page 102 of Mommy

The question is all over my brain. Bold letters smeared onto every surface of a room until you can see nothing but those words.

My threaded fingers tighten, slowly cutting off the blood flow to my fingertips, leaving them tingling and after a while, numb.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt this helpless and scared and… angry.

The tears that press against my eyes from the inside are not for me or Posie, they are for every dog before her. For every dog after her.

How many mommy’s-to-be ended up tied to a tree, forgotten and alone? And when they thought someone came to get them, they went from one hell into the next, from neglect to abuse in a matter of minutes.

“What is skid row?” I asked through my tears once Derek ended the call with Ezekiel.

He shifts in his seat, avoiding my eyes, but I won’t let him keep this secret.

“Tell me. Please.”

Finally, Derek looks up.

“I…” He sighs. “It’s a part of the city. It’s⁠—”

I wait, my eyes fixed on him as he stumbles to form a sentence.

Just spit it out.

“The original Skid Row is in LA, but we’ve kind of adapted the name. It’s the part of town where the homeless live. Tents, trailers. And—” He stops again. “There is a breeding problem there. It has been going on for a while now. Dogs being used to create a source of income by forcing them to produce puppies. I’m trying to make it stop, but… It’s difficult.”

I thought it was good to know, but now that I’ve heard it, I think I’ll vomit.

Who would do that? How can someone own a dog and forcibly breed them to make their existence a form of income? How cruel do you have to be to view a living creature as a chance to make money off of them instead of providing them with care?

“It’s… awful.” I manage to press the words out without emptying my stomach too. It’s my eyes that are getting to the point of pressure though.

I can barely see Derek nod through the tears that once again well behind my lashes.

“I didn’t want to tell you, it’s—” He breaks off, becoming aware of my tear streaked face.

Chapter fifty one

Derek

I make quick work of sending Ez a text, telling him we’re in the clear for Gavin’s death. There was a bit of a wave, but it passed and the case got dropped. I also added a short sentence about the man I saw today on Skid Row with the mom dog and her pups. He sent a thumbs up.

He’ll look into it.

After I told Ivy about Skid Row, I wrapped her in my arms, as if that would make it easier. But in the end it wasn’t me that dried her tears. Posie did it.

They are still laying on the rug in the living room, curled into a ball. Ivy’s face is buried in Posie’s short fur, but her cries subsided a while ago, leaving her breathing slow and steady.

Today was a lot.

Not just for her, but for me too. Sam called about the dog I had brought over from skid row earlier. He didn’t make it. I’m glad I didn’t tell Ivory, I don’t think she could’ve taken that much more when today has already been a nightmare. She learned about the whole thing with Posie and the ring, and on top of that lies my anger earlier. A cherry on the cake.

I don’t know why but something in her reaction still tips me off. Like a wrong note in a perfect song.

Sitting down on the floor behind her, I watch her breathe for a few beats. Her small back moves with each inhale, and her blond curls build a soft pillow around her head.

One of my hands stretches out and I reach for her before I can reconsider the approach. My finger makes contact first, gliding softly down her spine.

She doesn’t react.