Face down and ass up, fantasizing about the man I can’t get out of my mind.
Sniff.
Sniff.
Sniff.
“Go away.” I toss the comforter over myself.
Mama Vee told me not to acknowledge any spirits who don’t pay my bills.
I roll over.
Sniff.
Sniff.
Sniff.
“I know that’s not a rat with allergies,” I mutter under the covers.
Sniff.
Sniff.
Sniff.
“I’m up! Whoever is on the other side of the door better have a blank check or know how to fight, waking me up at this time of night.” There isn’t any justice or peace inside these walls.
A large figure underneath the door becomes two. Heavy grunts and sneezes have me second-guessing tugging the door handle.
What if it’s some pervert with his dick in his hand in need of Benadryl?
Girl, shut up.
I grunt at the weight of the door, working overtime not to open. My toes dig into stone tiles as I pull with a powerlifting stamina I don’t possess and trembling arms.
“The damn thing is locked.” I laugh at myself.
There’s a snort before a wet nose wedges itself into the tiny crack it widens with its body. A tank of a dog walks into my room with its twin. They’re waist-tall with dark eyes and Deebo-like chests, like they’ve been pumping iron in a prison yard.
One of them growls.
“No, we’re not.” I keep my tone low and raise a hand.
Floppy ears perk.
“I don’t know where you came from, but go bother someone else.”
Woo—
I snap my fingers. “What did I say?”
In my right mind, I wouldn’t argue with animals clearly on the juice. Benny probably trained them to eat people from their butts to their guts. I hope they bite his ass right out of the frame.
He’s yet to reappear since swallowing me whole days ago. Let those dogs terrorize him, because I’m not the one, the two, or the three.
Hopping fences to outrun a loose pit bull that had no business being outside was a weekly track and field event when I was younger. At this point, if I die, I die. Forty has settled into my body, and my joints sound like snapped twigs.
