Not with this, though. Not with Mom.
She doesn’t know my mom apart from what I’ve told her. Nothing Mom does is done out of love. Her eyes are set on some distant horizon, that’s impossible to attain, yet she toils on to reach it. She has more cash than one person needs, and she got bumped up to Vice President of MilGen not long ago. Mom doesn’t need to get ahead anymore.
She simply wants to. Some people are just born with that killer instinct.
“Maybe,” I reply. There’s no use in arguing. Not until I’ve seen theirlovewith my own eyes.
A buzzer goes off on a small table next to Dr. Rice. She reaches over and silences it.
“Can you believe it’s been an hour already?” she asks.
I really can’t.
We say our goodbyes, and I head out.
As I step out of her office and onto the street, an uneasy tickle crawls over my skin, making the hair on the back of my neck stand upright. It’s not a feeling that’s born out of danger, at least I don’t think so. The street’s too busy for anyone to move on me. Nor is it from paranoia or dread.
However, as I scan the sidewalk, I can’t shake the uneasy feeling that’s taking hold of me. The feeling that a set of eyes is holding me in focus.
Watching.
Waiting.
Chapter Seven
Lilith
After my midday trip to the past with Dr. Rice, I go back to the office to finish my daily tasks. Well,Icall it an office, but I work in a glorified shoebox that’s better described as a storage room.
However, this was the intent of the wealthy and anonymous backer who dreamed up The Barkhouse. They created a paradise, two blocks in size, to preserve some greenery in the ever-growing jungle of concrete and steel that is Midnite City. The goal was to help nurse the strays and forgotten pets of this city back to health, andto give them a chance at finding a new, loving family. This also meant many cuts to what could be considered a comfortable work environment. The administration building, where I am now, is half the size of the veterinary clinic, where I want to someday be.
Until then, my duties take place in the tiny building, that is overflowing with documents. Mine and Misha’s, that is. I still can’t believe she managed to swing the same gig as me, but I love every second of our work together. My bestie and I, traveling life’s highways and byways together. It definitely helps to take the sting out of jogging down memory lane with Dr. Rice.
“So, what’s the verdict?” Misha stops at my desk, resting her plump rump on one edge. She’s scanning through the contents of a folder as she speaks. “Still nuts?”
“More than ever, I’m afraid.” I chuckle.
“Knew it,” Misha scoffs. “From the first second you went there.”
“Knew what?” I start tapping away at my keyboard, entering details of the latest pup we’ve brought into foster housing. She was brought in last night; found under an overpass, on the brink of starvation. The admitting vet’s notes suggest that if they hadn’t found her when they did, she wouldn’t have made it through the night.
“She’s only in it for the money,” Misha says with abject certainty. I find it difficult to tell if she’s joking or not. “Can’t see why she’d keep you on this long otherwise.”
“Because it’s her job?” I raise a brow but don’t look away from my monitor. “She wants to get to the bottom of my problems more than anyone, I can assure you of that.”
“I’m sure she’s killing herself to stop lining her pockets with gold.” She winks at me. There it is, the sign that she’s teasing me. She had me worried for a second. “We chilling tonight? Got a list of movies I want to get through.”
“You know you can watch them alone, right?”
“But then I wouldn’t have anyone to talk about them with.” She shuts her folder.
I add the last few details of the new pup’s weight, color and breed and close the program.
“Can’t,” I sigh. “Mom’s organized a dinner with the groom-to-be.”
“So, skip it,” Misha says, pulling funny faces to point out how obvious the solution is. “It seems a little weird that she wants you going on a date with her, dontcha think?”
“It’s not a date. I have to get to know the guy. Or have you forgotten they’re getting married next weekend?” My skin begins to crawl as I utter those words.
