Me: It’s okay, I’m fine. I’m about to go to bed. And Denver’s here.
Zoey: I’ll be there in the morning then. Love you.
I was going to call her after my bath. It’s been non-stop with my father and the cops since we got back.
“Denver? Did you call Zoey?” I shout.
His answer comes immediately from outside the door. “No. But I can call her now for you.”
“It’s fine,” I say, clicking onto the internet.
I don’t even have to search for it. It’s top of the news site I open first.
Sinclair Beaufort in dog-napping scare.
“Where’s your phone?” Denver asks suddenly. “Sinclair?” He knocks on the door. “Sinclair, don’t go online.”
My eyes ping-pong over the report. Attached is a video filmed on a passerby’s phone. The guy has grabbed Monty by the scruff of the neck and lifted his front paws off the ground. You can’t tell who he is because of his ski mask. But you can see the moment he’s almost knocked out by one punch as Denver hits him square in the face.
Screams echo from the video.Mine.
It cuts out as Denver lifts a barking Monty into his arms.
“Sinclair.” Denver’s warning rolls through the door as he presses down on the handle.
“Stop. I’m not dressed,” I screech, running over and holding the door shut.
But it’s an excuse. The fingers on my free hand are scrabbling as fast as they can as I read comment after comment beneath the video.
“Poor dog, I hope he’s okay.”
“She deserved to lose her dog. Did you hear how she attacked that other model?”
“Screeching bitch, my ears hurt.”
“What’s with the stupid sweaters she makes him wear? Animal cruelty. #Takeherdog”
“You should all be ashamed. He’s an animal. They were probably going to kill him.”
Denver growls, “I’m coming in. Move back from the door.”
I step back, my hand flying to my mouth as I read the last comment.
“Next time, we won’t fail. RIP Monty.”
“Sinclair!”
Green eyes burn into mine.
Then my legs give way.
14
DENVER
“I’ve got you.”
Her eyes roll in her head as she crumples inside my arms.
