Vicious Cycle (Vicious Cycle #1)(59)

I hadn’t been back home, and I dreaded the thought of facing my kitchen again. When I closed my eyes, I could still see Atticus’s lifeless form and the horrible man who had attacked me. Deacon had promised to take me home when I thought I was ready, but I wasn’t sure when that would be.

It had worked out almost too perfectly that school was out for our weeklong October break, so I didn’t have to worry about making an excuse to my principal about my absence. I certainly couldn’t have gone in to work bruised and battered. It would have raised too much suspicion and discussion about what was happening in my private life.

Deacon’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “Hey,” he said, an impish grin on his face.

“Hey to you, too.”

He walked down the length of the porch with a large wooden crate in his arms. Jerking my chin at the box, I asked, “What’s in there?”

“A present for you.”

My brows shot up in surprise. “You got me a present?”

“You act like I would never do something so thoughtful.”

I giggled. “I am a little surprised.”

With a scowl, he said, “I do have a few decent bones in my body, you know.”

“Yes, I know.”

After setting the box down at my feet, he scratched the back of his neck. It was endearing because I knew he usually did it when he was nervous. “I’m hoping you’ll like it. If you don’t want it, I can give it to someone else.”

I shook my head at him. “Oh no, you don’t. Besides, I’m sure I’ll love it.”

Once again, he tugged on the hair at the base of his neck. “I hope you do. I mean, I hope it was the right thing to do.”

With my curiosity at a fever pitch, I leaned forward in the swing so I could open the box. The moment I loosened the lid, it popped open, and something lunged at me. I squealed and jumped back in the swing. When I glanced down, a wriggling, whining, black pit bull puppy sniffed at my feet.

I stared at Deacon in surprise. “You got me a dog?”

His hand started for the back of his neck again. If he kept that up, he was going to have a bald spot. “I know how much you loved your dog, and well, after what happened to him, I thought you might like another one. Boone’s dog had a litter of puppies a while back, and he’s the pick of them all.”

As the puppy nibbled on my bare toe with his baby teeth, I laughed. “Hey, now, those aren’t for eating,” I said, bending down to pick him up. He stared at me with deep blue eyes, and it was instant love. “Aren’t you a pretty boy, huh?”

His response was to open his mouth and yawn, bestowing the wondrous smell of puppy breath on me. I snuggled him to my chest, kissing the top of his head. When I glanced up, Deacon was eyeing me curiously. “Does that mean you like him?”

“How could I not? He’s adorable.”

“So I did good?”

I crooked my finger at him. With his brows furrowed, he leaned down. “You did great, Jesse James,” I replied before I brought my lips to his. When I flicked my tongue against his mouth to deepen the kiss, he jerked away. My heart sank a little at his reaction, but I plastered a smile to my face to hide my disappointment. Three days ago he might’ve been doing wicked things to me with his tongue, but after my attack, he couldn’t bring himself to touch me sexually. I might as well have been labeled “damaged goods.”

The screen door banged, and Willow skipped out onto the porch. The moment she saw the puppy, her eyes widened. With a squeal, she ran over to me. “You got a puppy?”

“Yes. Your daddy got me one.”

Willow scowled up at her father as she swept one of her hands to her hip. “You said I couldn’t have one.”

“That’s right. I did. Miss Alex is an adult and can take care of a puppy, while you can’t. Besides, her dog got …” Deacon winced, and I knew he was trying to find the most delicate way of saying what happened to Atticus. “Well, he, uh … He went to heaven the other night, so this is to take away some of her sadness,” he answered.

“Oh, Miss Alex, I’m so sorry about your dog,” Willow said, her lips turning down.

“It’s okay. Want to hold him?” She nodded emphatically, so I passed the puppy over to her. He proceeded to go wild in licking her face, which caused her to burst into a fit of giggles. I couldn’t help laughing at the sight. Deacon also started chuckling. It felt good to be around laughter again.

“What are you going to name him?” Willow asked in between dodging the puppy’s long swipes with its tongue.

“Hmm. I don’t know. Why don’t you name him?”

“Really?”

I nodded. “Then maybe you can help me with him and show your daddy that you’re ready for a puppy of your own.”

Deacon scowled at me, but when Willow looked at him to confirm his intentions, he nodded. “Oh boy, I can’t believe I get to name him.” Holding the puppy up, she gazed into his eyes. “Walter,” she announced.

With a laugh, I asked, “Walter? Wherever did you get that name from?”

“Mr. Walter lived down the hall from me. He used to come into Mrs. Martinez’s apartment for flan.” Lowering her voice, she said, “I think he was her boyfriend, but they pretended to just be good friends.”