Hot Revenge Box Set 2

And I keep talking. “What a nice lot of boys and girls. All these doggies... What a lot of lovely doggies…” Nonsense words. Not meaning anything. Just a vehicle for a calm voice. Intended to soothe. Designed to disarm.

I keep speaking and the stranger brushes by, trying to introduce himself to Scruffy, ignoring me. As he comes close, I let my hand trail over his fur. “Blackie. What a nice boy. What a good boy Blackie is.”

His ears are pricking us, and he brushes by again, now exchanging sniffs with Emma. Archie grumbles low and Blackie cows, dropping to his stomach. Archie prances up, fur bristling, tail upright and Blackie whines then sits by me. His eyes softening by the moment, he pants heavily.

Still moving carefully, I take off my belt then make a loop of the end. Holding it loosely in my hand, I let it dangle, very casually, then trail the other hand over his fur. “What a nice boy. What a good boy Blackie is. Blackie’s far too nice to be nasty.”

He relaxes completely. And as I show him the belt, doesn’t react at all. Moving carefully, I loop it over his head and then slowly stand. “Heel.”

And he curves around behind me to stand by my right side.

“So,” says Klempner, from his spot a few yards away, “What now?”

“I just want to check something.”

He follows silently as, Blackie on his ‘lead’, I skirt the thicket he was sheltering in. “There…” I point. “See?”

“Pawprints?”

“Pawprints running both ways. Lots of them. He’s been dashing up and down trying to find someone. He’s been dumped. Some bastard’s just left him here and he’s been trying to find them. How does a dog understand that the people he loves would just abandon him?”

Klempner looks down at Blackie, his expression thoughtful.

*****

swivel as we

and Richard exchange looks. “I’m almost certain…” says Richard… “… that you left here with

six. Yes, I know. I couldn’t

looks him over. “He’s a good-looking animal. You

He’s big, but he’s still a bit gangly. Not grown into his paws yet. He was probably thrown out to make way

voice hisses from

place in Hell for them.

wincing away from where

through to

Standing with his back to the fire, “Is there anything hot to drink? I’m fucking

a whiskey bottle. “Coffee with a

“Perfect.”

*****

earlier tension looks to have dissolved, replaced by a kind of softness in his

“Blowed if I know.”

are squirming for position on the rug. Blackie circles a bit then sits close, leaning against my

lips pursed. “That was an interesting performance. You’ve

“Oh, yes.”

a thick layer

of the brandy coming through the cream. “Not so much as you might think. You just have to put yourself inside their heads. You see it a lot with mistreated dogs. They’ve had their trust shattered. They don’t know who they can rely on. They

in, all authority and bluster. Blackie drops and

“Size is almost irrelevant with dogs. It’s all about dominance and the pecking order. And democracy is a human concept.

know how to cope. So, they lash out at whoever's near. That’s how you create a really dangerous animal. But if you make them feel safe… Wanted... Loved... It turns them around. They become what nature always intended