Page 19

“I came to apologize,” I say, holding the flowers up in the narrow gap. “I was out of line earlier.”

Her eyes drop to the bouquet, then flick back up to mine.

“You were.”

“I brought you theses.”

“Are those gas station flowers?”

“Didn’t realize flowers came with a class system,” I say.

A corner of her mouth twitches. It’s barely there, but I catch it.

I give her a slow smile. “You know, you’re the first woman I’ve ever bought flowers for.”

She blinks at me. “That’s really not the selling point you think it is.”

I frown, because it absolutely was.

For a second, neither of us says a word. Then she sighs—long-suffering and deeply unimpressed—but her hand slips through the narrow gap in the door.

“Give me the flowers.”

A grin tugs at my mouth. There it is. Knew the flowers were a good call.

I start to pass them through just as the door opens a few more inches. That’s when something small and gray skitters across the floor behind her.

I jolt back. “What the fuck is that?”

She blinks and glances over her shoulder. “What?”

“You have a rat.”

“I do not have a rat,” she says, scooping the little creature up into her arms.

I stare at the gremlin. Milky eyes, patchy gray-and-white fur, tongue lolling sideways like it forgot how to work. I’ve never seen anything so goddamn ugly in my life.

“What the fuck is it then?”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Fifi is a dog. A rescue.”

I take in the hideous little thing. It doesn’t look like any dog I’ve ever seen.

“From where? Chernobyl?”

Her face goes completely still.

Then the door slams so hard my teeth rattle.

“…Fuck,” I whisper, still holding the flowers.

Strike three.

7

LEVI

The house is too damn quiet.