She heard me.
"Just Walking in the Rain."
"Yeah, my mother—"
"I know," she says, tracking sand all over the floor. "Your father told me."
Huh.
Killer runs inside then, coming right into the kitchen, dropping his tennis ball at Karissa's feet.
He turns to me.
He starts growling.
Sighing, I reach up in the cabinet, grabbing a treat and tossing it at him. He silences, eating it.
Karissa laughs. "He's totally got you trained."
"I'm pretty sure it's the other way around."
"Is it?" She raises her eyebrows as she steps toward me. "Come on, Naz, he's been living with you for a while now. He's had plenty of time to acclimate to your presence, but he knows, if he growls, you'll give him a treat."
She reaches up on her tiptoes, kissing me, before snatching the baby from my arms, setting off to feed him. I stand there, considering that, as Killer finishes his treat. As soon as it's gone, he glances up at me.
He starts to growl again.
Son of a bitch.
I've lied, and stolen, and cheated. I've taken lives and assaulted men. I've gotten what I wanted through coercion, through intimidation, using force when necessary. I always win.
But a goddamn mutt managed to outsmart me.
Unbelievable.
"I'm on to you," I tell him, walking away. "Get your own fucking treats now."
I make my way to the bedroom, finding Karissa lying in bed, holding the baby. I stand there in the doorway, watching, feeling my chest tighten with emotion.
Her and him.
My life.
My second wind.
I'd take on the world for them.
And I promise you… I'd win.
J.M. Darhower is the USA Today Bestselling Author of paranormal/erotic/romantic suspense novels about the baddest bad boys and the ladies who love them. She lives in a tiny town in North Carolina, where she churns out more words than will ever see the light of day. She has a deep passion for politics and speaking out against human trafficking, and when she isn't writing she's usually ranting about those things.
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Acknowledgments
This book wouldn't exist if not for you, the readers. I'm truly humbled and honored by your love of Ignazio. He was born out of frustration at a time when people were telling me my writing just wasn't marketable, that nobody would ever pull for the kind of guys I write. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for proving those people wrong.
Sarah Anderson, what can I say? You are extraordinary. You make me see the worth in my words when the voices in my head tell me they're utter rubbish. Despite what self-doubt might tell you, you are one of the most naturally talented writers I've ever met. Never stop pursuing your dream. I believe in you. Nicki Bullard, the greatest best friend in the world, I don't know what I'd do without you. Thank you, times a million, for always being there when I need someone, for letting me talk through this with you and trying your damndest to help me even though I was practically shrieking that it was beyond help. Look at it now, actually a book and shit, ha!
To my family, for being so supportive, and to my book friends, for being so damn amazing, and to my readers… wow… you guys are one of a kind. I'm lucky. Very lucky. Know that I appreciate all of you SO much. To the many bloggers out there, big and small, for giving the time of day to my work. Your love of books is inspiring.
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