Zane's Redemption
Page 23
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He’d made a promise long ago that justice would be done. Only if he remained stalwart could he achieve his goal and make good on his promise. Love had no place in his life.
Zane shrugged off his leather coat and tossed it over the chair in the hallway. His next step landed him in something soft. The accompanying smell he only now registered because he’d been too preoccupied when he’d entered his house, confirmed that he had a mess on his hands.
“Z!” he yelled. “Where the fuck are you?”
He knew it had been a bad move to leave the dog alone at home. He should have locked him outside in the yard. Flipping the light switch, Zane lifted his boot and inspected the damage. Great! The grooves of his soles were caked with dog shit.
“I’m going to kill you, Z!”
The dog clearly knew his lesson on self-preservation because he didn’t show his snout anywhere. Not that it would save him from punishment. Hiding would only delay the inevitable.
Fuming, Zane charged into the kitchen and yanked a towel from the rack. As he cleaned up the dog’s mess, he cursed Yvette once more. She could have at least housetrained the pup before palming him off on an unsuspecting new owner. Owner? Not if he could help it. Tonight the dog would be history.
He tossed the dirty towel on the floor to be disposed of later. His boots landed in the kitchen sink before he stalked barefoot into the living room. It was empty. Well, almost: there was an oversized leather couch facing a monstrous high-definition TV. Apart from those two items, the living room was bare; no rug, no coffee table, no paintings on the white walls. He’d still not gotten around to decorating the place beyond the bare necessities, despite the fact that he’d bought the house over five months ago.
“Zee-eee, daddy’s home,” he cooed, but the damn animal didn’t respond.
Zane inhaled and, ignoring the stench from the dog’s shit, he concentrated on the underlying scent of the dog’s fur. He lifted his head. “Gotcha.”
Making no sound, he walked up the stairs to the second floor and headed for his bedroom. The upstairs floor had originally had three bedrooms, and he’d chosen the largest one, which faced the garden and was leading out to a small deck, as his master bedroom. He’d converted the second bedroom into a large bathroom and dressing room, leaving the second bathroom on this floor as a guest bath. Considering he never had guests, it was an unnecessary luxury. He halted for a moment, remembering that Quinn was due to arrive the next day. He wasn’t sure yet whether to look forward to his visit or dread it. Right now, he had too much stuff on his mind to make a decision about that.
When he entered his bedroom through the open door, he heard the dog’s shallow breaths. He closed the door behind him, making sure the little pup had no chance to escape. Not seeing the animal in the room, it wasn’t hard to figure out where he was hiding. After all, there was only one item of furniture suitable as a hiding place.
Zane switched on the light, allowing the forty watt bulb hidden underneath a hideous looking shade he’d inherited from the previous owner to illuminate the room. It reminded him once more that he desperately needed to put his own touch on the rest of the place just as he’d done with the bathroom. But first things first.
He dropped to the floor and peered under the bed. As expected, Z was crouching underneath it, right in the middle of the king-sized piece of furniture, safe for now. His round eyes were wide as they stared at him. Did that dog know what he’d done, or was he simply reacting to Zane’s fury? Zane took a breather. Hell, he didn’t know the first thing about dogs. He should be the last person to own one.
“Come on, little Z, be a good dog and come out.” Zane felt like a fool as he coaxed the stupid animal with a voice only reserved for babies and, well, dogs. If anybody saw him like this, he’d have to silence that person forever.
Z set one paw in front of the other, and, tilting his head, he crawled forward a few inches. Zane reached his hand underneath the bed, but the dog shrunk back from him. He clenched his jaw. Stupid animal!
“Come now, Z, you must be hungry,” he tempted the pup, dropping his voice to a sweet cooing sound.
The animal took another few tentative movements toward him. Zane dropped his hand on the floor, laying it flat, palm up. “Come to daddy.” Ah, shit, he was turning into a complete idiot.
A moment later, Z licked over his palm and came within striking distance. Zane acted, snatching the dog around his neck and pulling him from his hiding place as Z made a futile attempt to dig his hindquarters into the wooden floor, making a scratching sound with his claws.
Zane shrugged off his leather coat and tossed it over the chair in the hallway. His next step landed him in something soft. The accompanying smell he only now registered because he’d been too preoccupied when he’d entered his house, confirmed that he had a mess on his hands.
“Z!” he yelled. “Where the fuck are you?”
He knew it had been a bad move to leave the dog alone at home. He should have locked him outside in the yard. Flipping the light switch, Zane lifted his boot and inspected the damage. Great! The grooves of his soles were caked with dog shit.
“I’m going to kill you, Z!”
The dog clearly knew his lesson on self-preservation because he didn’t show his snout anywhere. Not that it would save him from punishment. Hiding would only delay the inevitable.
Fuming, Zane charged into the kitchen and yanked a towel from the rack. As he cleaned up the dog’s mess, he cursed Yvette once more. She could have at least housetrained the pup before palming him off on an unsuspecting new owner. Owner? Not if he could help it. Tonight the dog would be history.
He tossed the dirty towel on the floor to be disposed of later. His boots landed in the kitchen sink before he stalked barefoot into the living room. It was empty. Well, almost: there was an oversized leather couch facing a monstrous high-definition TV. Apart from those two items, the living room was bare; no rug, no coffee table, no paintings on the white walls. He’d still not gotten around to decorating the place beyond the bare necessities, despite the fact that he’d bought the house over five months ago.
“Zee-eee, daddy’s home,” he cooed, but the damn animal didn’t respond.
Zane inhaled and, ignoring the stench from the dog’s shit, he concentrated on the underlying scent of the dog’s fur. He lifted his head. “Gotcha.”
Making no sound, he walked up the stairs to the second floor and headed for his bedroom. The upstairs floor had originally had three bedrooms, and he’d chosen the largest one, which faced the garden and was leading out to a small deck, as his master bedroom. He’d converted the second bedroom into a large bathroom and dressing room, leaving the second bathroom on this floor as a guest bath. Considering he never had guests, it was an unnecessary luxury. He halted for a moment, remembering that Quinn was due to arrive the next day. He wasn’t sure yet whether to look forward to his visit or dread it. Right now, he had too much stuff on his mind to make a decision about that.
When he entered his bedroom through the open door, he heard the dog’s shallow breaths. He closed the door behind him, making sure the little pup had no chance to escape. Not seeing the animal in the room, it wasn’t hard to figure out where he was hiding. After all, there was only one item of furniture suitable as a hiding place.
Zane switched on the light, allowing the forty watt bulb hidden underneath a hideous looking shade he’d inherited from the previous owner to illuminate the room. It reminded him once more that he desperately needed to put his own touch on the rest of the place just as he’d done with the bathroom. But first things first.
He dropped to the floor and peered under the bed. As expected, Z was crouching underneath it, right in the middle of the king-sized piece of furniture, safe for now. His round eyes were wide as they stared at him. Did that dog know what he’d done, or was he simply reacting to Zane’s fury? Zane took a breather. Hell, he didn’t know the first thing about dogs. He should be the last person to own one.
“Come on, little Z, be a good dog and come out.” Zane felt like a fool as he coaxed the stupid animal with a voice only reserved for babies and, well, dogs. If anybody saw him like this, he’d have to silence that person forever.
Z set one paw in front of the other, and, tilting his head, he crawled forward a few inches. Zane reached his hand underneath the bed, but the dog shrunk back from him. He clenched his jaw. Stupid animal!
“Come now, Z, you must be hungry,” he tempted the pup, dropping his voice to a sweet cooing sound.
The animal took another few tentative movements toward him. Zane dropped his hand on the floor, laying it flat, palm up. “Come to daddy.” Ah, shit, he was turning into a complete idiot.
A moment later, Z licked over his palm and came within striking distance. Zane acted, snatching the dog around his neck and pulling him from his hiding place as Z made a futile attempt to dig his hindquarters into the wooden floor, making a scratching sound with his claws.
