I still tensed up each time we walked into a non-dog-friendly building, thanks to one random woman who came at me the second time I brought Sugar into a store with me right after I got matched with her. She’d been ranting and raving about people bringing dogs into grocery stores. And when I’d explained that Sugar was an actual, trained medical alert dog, she’d gone off about how I didn’t look sick and blah blah blah.
I patted myself on the back for having the self-control not to knock her out. But it went through my mind every single time we walked into a store now.
I wasn’t sure I exhaled until I had four bottles of glucose tablets, some juice, candy, a toy for Sugar, and a single diet soda, since I didn’t feel like carrying a whole pack all the way home.
“I’m really going to have to invest in a car now, huh?” I asked Sugar, who turned to look at me, her golden eyes bright as she pranced alongside me, her gaze constantly going to the bag, knowing the toy was hiding in there.
The walkability was one of the big factors in moving to this city. Well, the walkability and the anonymity, the ability to disappear into the crowd. Which felt like a very important factor when I’d been all alone in the world and on a dangerous organization’s ‘most wanted’ list.
I got my little apartment in a very average, very built-up community. I healed. I got sick. Then had my health turned upside down.
All the while, I stewed.
I fantasized.
I plotted.
But it was finally, finally time to set all that planning into motion.
We stopped off at the quad behind the apartment buildings, checking to make sure there was no one around who would complain, then found a stick and threw it for Sugar to catch until she was good and tired.
Then, finally, it was time to go inside for her to unwind, for me to throw together a salad with a few cubes of prepared chicken I still had left, then I hemmed and hawed about whether I needed a shot of insulin before finally giving myself a small dose before placing a grocery delivery order to stock up on easy things to eat for the next few days. Because I was planning on things getting busy.
That is, if everything didn’t go to hell later that night, though.
“Okay, baby,” I said a few hours later after taking Sugar for another walk to make sure she did her business and was at least a little tired out. “You had dinner. You have water. The TV is setto your favorite fish tank channel. You have everything you need to be a good girl while I’m gone.”
I tossed her the toy from earlier. But it was a testament to how much I’d tired her out that she took it, put it on her bed, then just curled up and rested her head on it instead of playing.
Satisfied with that, I switched into a pair of combat boots and a leather jacket. I pulled back my hair.
Then I went into my nightstand, reached into the top drawer, took out, and slid the gun into my shoulder holster.
The binoculars were next, sliding into a handy-dandy little belt holder.
I left my normal phone.
But I took a burner.
“I’m sorry, baby,” I cooed at Sugar, who tried to follow me to the door. “I know you think you need to come, but I have to do this by myself.”
First, because there was no room.
But more importantly, because it wouldn’t be safe.
I was okay with putting my own life at risk. But not hers.
I was so paranoid about this little mission of mine that I had an app set up to send an emergency text to one of my neighbors who also had a lab if I didn’t check in by five in the morning. Because if I didn’t get back by five, chances were, I was never coming back. And the text would tell her where a spare key was hidden and that Sugar needed someone to look after her for a few days because of a family emergency that took me out of town.
Would those ‘few days’ turn into a lifetime? Yep. But the text would also tell her where to find some spare cash as a thank-you. And that spare cash was several grand to help cover the costs when I never came home.
“I love you, you know that, right?” I asked as I lowered down to rub her wide head between both my hands. “No matter what,I love you, okay?” Shockingly, tears sprang to my eyes. I wasnotsomeone who cried. Ever. “And if I don’t come home, I hope you have a super happy life with Diana and Artemis. I know you want to come,” I said when she whined. “But you have to settle,” I told her, feeling like a bitch when she whined again, but went to her bed like her training taught her to do.
With that, I grabbed my helmet and left the apartment before I lost my nerve.
“Hey, girl,” I cooed to my bike as I rolled her out of my minuscule storage unit the apartment complex provided.
I hadn’t been on my bike in weeks.
