stepping away from him as she toyed with her apron strings.
He reached out and gently took her hands in his, refusing to allow her to pull away again. “Mary,” Trace said, looking into her eyes, “I saw him strike you.”
She shrugged it away as if it were nothing. “I broke a Pack rule.”
“What rule?” he asked, frowning when she pulled her hands free.
“Mary, what-oomph!” The air rushed out of his lungs as he dropped to the ground, barely able to register Mary’s pleased smile as he watched the large wooden mallet race towards his head, again.
Chapter 1
Westdrom, Maine
Present Day
“Charlie! Oh my god, don’t pee on that!” Sam pleaded as Charlie raised a dark furry leg and gave her a pointed look that could only be taken as a threat.
Sam pulled on her old fluffy pink bunny slippers as she eyed her brother’s pain in the ass German Sheppard that he’d left with her when his unit had been deployed two months ago. She pointed a finger at him, trying to look stern as she said, “If so, much as a drop hits that staircase, you will never have another slice of pepperoni pizza.”
The dog eyed her for a moment before shifting his attention to the two-story colonial house’s original staircase that she’d spent last weekend sanding. The wood was bone dry and would happily absorb every drop Charlie gave it and then Sam would have to come up with the ten thousand dollars needed to replace the staircase, something that she’d been hoping to avoid.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Charlie lowered his leg, his eyes never leaving hers, looking for a reason to go through with the threat. Sam stood up, putting her hands on her hips and said, “That’s right, buddy. You better remember who controls the pizza in this house.”
Charlie huffed as he padded past her to the front door. Sam was just about to run upstairs and grab her flannel bathrobe, but then shrugged and followed the horrible dog that hated her outside. It wasn’t as if anyone was going to see her in her brother’s old Superman pajamas out here. They were ten miles from town and their nearest neighbor was eight miles away and was only here during the summer. She could walk around naked all day and never have to worry about another soul seeing her, except maybe for the deer that liked to walk around the small clearing in the backyard.
She didn’t bother grabbing Charlie’s leash since the dog would take that as a challenge and drag her out back through thorns, weeds, and over the rocks in the stream before he happily dunked her ass in the mud, again. He seemed to really enjoy making her life a living hell, something that she’d reminded Nathan of numerous times before he’d left. Each and every time, he’d sigh heavily and tell her that it was all in her head and that Charlie loved her.
Her eyes narrowed on the dog as he showed her SUV tire a lot of love. The entire time he stared at her, daring her to say something about it. She narrowed her eyes on him as she bent down and picked up an old slimy tennis ball. Standing up slowly, she held it up.
“Uh-oh, does Charlie want his ball?” Sam asked in a syrupy sweet voice as she moved the ball from side to side, smiling as the little bastard’s eyes narrowed on his favorite ball. Just when he put his leg down and crouched to spring at her, she pulled her arm back and let the ball go flying through the trees and thick brush. “Go get it!”
The dog threw her one last dirty look that promised all sorts of retaliation before he took off through the brush where she hoped he finished his business. He had a nasty habit of leaving his little “packages” as her Grandmother Powers used to call them, around her truck. She didn’t care what Nathan said. She wasn’t paranoid.
That dog was out to get her.
Wiping her hands off on her pajama pants, she walked back into the house, untangling the necklace that Nathan had given her when they were kids from her hair as she decided this would be the perfect opportunity to enjoy a hassle-free breakfast. It was something she hadn’t had since she moved in with Nathan after she’d left Craig.
It was funny how four months ago her biggest problem was Craig throwing the newspaper away before she could read it.