week apart from each other mere weeks before the raid of the fight ring. Despite our sadness, Ryan and I had seen it as a sign. Not to mention that we didn’t want to live without dogs. Taking care of the tiny puppies in the beginning had been a twenty-four-hour job, which wasn’t easy considering Max had been a toddler and I had been pregnant with Primo, but Ryan and I had succeeded together and our dogs thanked us with utmost loyalty and love.
“Primo, no!” I called when he hit his brother. Max, of course, hit him back. Ryan was the only one who called our son Maximus. He had chosen both boy names. People had always looked down at him as a child and he wanted to make sure our boys didn’t suffer the same fate. For him a proud and strong name was a crucial key. When I’d seen how important the matter was for him, I’d given in under the condition that I’d choose a possible girl name, but I knew deep down that our family was complete with Max and Primo.
“Don’t make me come and get you,” I warned. They slanted me a look to see if I was serious. I was.
They started chasing each other again, almost stumbling over Buddy’s huge white body. Primo climbed on top of him. Buddy barely lifted his head but I had enough. I went over to my boys and they trotted toward me, knowing what was coming.
“The dogs aren’t toys. You can pet them and throw their ball, but you don’t climb them, don’t tug at their tails or ears, and don’t tease them. Understood?” My voice was stern.
They nodded. “Okay, Mommy,” they said as one, their amber eyes guilty.
I tousled their brown hair and sent them off again. Instead of continuing my workout, I sank down beside Buddy and Daisy. They both immediately put their heads on my crossed legs so I could pat them.
Max and Primo stopped and looked behind me. With huge grins, they dashed toward what they saw.
Growl
I’d spent the day dismembering a Bratva spy, had relished in his screams. Adrenaline still rushed in my ears like static when I got out of my pickup in the driveway of the small house Cara and I had bought shortly before Maximus had been born. I’d never much cared about a place, but this house, our home, held a special place in my heart.
Both our boys had been born here and Coco and Bandit had enjoyed their evening of life on the soft lawn. I had buried them in the soil of their favorite spot with my own hands.
I paused on the porch. I’d never cried over someone’s death as an adult, never mourned someone but to this day my chest ached when I remembered the summer my loyal friends died. The memory of that day crashed down on me as it did often on days of inner turmoil.
Bandit and Coco were thirteen years old. When I returned home from work, I found them in the yard in their favorite spot close to a maple tree. Cara grabbed my arm, Maximus asleep in the baby sling against her chest. “I don’t think it’s going to be long now.” Tears brimmed in her eyes.
I followed her gaze toward my furry friends who had both lifted their heads and were wagging their tails. Bandit had been diagnosed with cancer a couple of months ago. We’d done everything we could. Now we made sure he wasn’t in pain.
I nodded, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “I’ll stay with them. I won’t leave their side until—” I couldn’t say it. I didn’t have to.
I strolled toward them and sank down beside them, patting their old bodies. Bandit met my gaze and deep down I knew Cara was right. It was only a matter of hours, maybe less. Bandit had waited for me to return home. I lay down on the warm lawn, my arm wrapped around Bandit and Coco, who hadn’t moved from his side in days.
The sun soon set and the temperature began to cool, but I didn’t stir. My own needs seemed irrelevant as I stroked Bandit’s side. Cara had only briefly come over to give him a big piece of sausage with pain meds.
Soon I felt Bandit’s breathing slow, the fall and rise of his chest under my palm almost unnoticeable now. Coco snuggled even closer to him and then his breathing stopped. I kept stroking his