Fractured Ties by Bethany-Kris Page 0,38

and feed—not to mention kiss—her, she paid attention to what was at the end of the navy-blue, leather leash. Sumerki, that was. Maya was keeping a tight grip on the leash because God only knew what Kolya would do if he got home, and found out the dog had taken off, or worse, ended up hurt. Sumerki chuffed along at her side.

Every so often, the pup would find a new spot to sniff or mark his territory, and there the two would be, stuck for five minutes while the dog did his business. She didn’t really mind—it was cute to see Sumerki get himself all worked up over a blade of grass that some stray cat had probably walked over during the night.

Each day, it never failed, Sumerki was walked at least three times.

Kolya’s demand.

Maya didn’t have to walk him because Kolya was more than fine with doing it himself, and often came on the walks with her, but she liked to do it. And every single walk, Sumerki pulled the same kind of tricks—pissing on the same spots over and over again, and sniffing the exact same patches of grass.

She could bet on it, now.

“Are you just about done?” she asked the pup.

Sumerki’s tiny, pointed ear on the right side flicked as if to say he heard her speak, but he didn’t take his attention away from the patch of grass he was currently sniffing, circling, and every so often, dragging his paw through like he was considering digging.

“Don’t you dare,” Maya warned. “No digging.”

Despite how the pup liked to pretend as though he didn’t hear anything he was told, he did actually listen. He was smart, and liked to please. She supposed that was why Kolya had little to no trouble at all when it came to training Sumerki.

Hell, the dog hadn’t messed in the house since the first couple of times. He’d already mastered sitting, keeling, staying, and coming when directed. His little tail would wag faster when he finally got his praise for doing something properly.

Sumerki chuffed under his breath, circled once more, and then finally did his business after five minutes of playing with the damn spot. Then, he looked up at her with those big, yellow eyes as if to silently ask, Well, are you ready to go?

Maya smiled to herself.

“What, you want to go back home?” she asked.

Sumerki’s tail wagged.

“Kolya probably isn’t back yet.”

The dog clearly didn’t understand what she said, but at just the mention of Kolya, a word which Sumerki absolutely did recognize, his tail picked up speed. So much so, that his whole hind end swayed with the motion.

People who didn’t have dogs were missing out, as far as she was concerned. Humans didn’t deserve these animals—all innocent, eager to please and loving.

“Let’s go, then,” Maya said, turning to head down the quiet back alley that would lead them to the townhouse. She preferred walking back here because there was little traffic, and people mostly used it to park their cars. Sumerki was quick to join her and his attention then became laser-focused on the sidewalk ahead. Like he just knew he was on his way home and the thing he wanted most was there waiting for him.

Kolya, that was.

Or so he thought.

Maya was still chatting along to the pup, like he understood and could respond back to her with big eyes and tail wags, as she came to the steps leading up to the backdoor of the townhouse. It was only when she moved to climb the first cement step, and Sumerki pulled back as if to refuse to go along with her that she noticed something was wrong.

The way Sumerki stopped.

How he sniffed like something was different.

And then …

The back door of the townhouse was cracked open. Not a lot—barely noticeable at all, really. Maya probably wouldn’t even have noticed it until she tried to put the key in the lock to open the door. She knew just by how meticulous and careful Kolya was about the rules when it came to coming and going from the townhouse that it wasn’t him who had left the door open.

And she sure as hell had not.

Instinct made Maya step back. A life of knowing something bad was always right around the corner made her aware this wasn’t right. Sumerki pulling hard on the leash in retreat made her glance back to calm the dog so he didn’t hurt himself in the process.

“It’s okay—”

“I believe it’s Maya, yes?”

Maya stiffened all over,