Chasing Shadows

Chapter Sixty-Eight: Barking and Bickering

Ethan woke up to the faint scent of smoke curling into the room. His mind immediately flashed to danger—fire, an accident, something catastrophic. He bolted upright, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he tried to figure out what was happening.

The scent was stronger now, mingling with the sunlight pouring in through the curtains. He glanced around the room frantically, his heart pounding. Rascal’s bark echoed through the apartment, high-pitched and frantic. Panic surged in his chest.

Oh god, did something catch fire?

Throwing off the blankets, Ethan stumbled out of bed, his bare feet hitting the cold floor as he darted out of the room. He made it halfway down the hallway before the sound of Rascal’s barking turned into something else—something strange.

Growling.

Ethan’s steps faltered, confusion washing over him. What was going on? He rounded the corner to the living room and froze in the doorway, his jaw dropping at the sight in front of him.

Zane was standing on the balcony, the door slightly ajar, a lit cigarette dangling lazily between his lips. He was leaning against the railing, glaring down at Rascal, who stood on the other side of the glass door, his tiny body puffed up as if he were a guard dog ten times his size.

The two of them—human and dog—were having what could only be described as a full-blown argument.

“Listen here, furball,” Zane grumbled, smoke billowing from his mouth as he pointed at Rascal like he was scolding a misbehaving child. “I’m not going anywhere, so you can stop barking like a psycho, okay?”

Rascal responded with an angry bark, his little tail stiff and wagging furiously.

“Oh, you want to argue?” Zane’s eyebrows shot up in mock outrage, and he took a step closer to the glass door, his voice rising in indignation. “What’s your problem, huh? I’m trying to relax here, and you’re just… yap, yap, yap.”

Rascal’s response was a series of rapid, yappy barks that sounded almost like he was cursing Zane out.

Zane snorted, blowing a puff of smoke through his nose. “Yeah, well, at least I don’t run around sniffing people’s butts, you little ankle-biter.”

Rascal let out a low growl, his head lowering as if he were preparing for a fight. Then he barked again, even louder this time.

“Oh, you think you’re tough?” Zane taunted, eyes narrowing as he crouched down to Rascal’s level, his expression one of mock seriousness. “Bring it on, you flea-ridden cotton ball.”

Rascal barked furiously, pawing at the glass door as if he could somehow get to Zane through sheer willpower.

And then, to Ethan’s utter disbelief, Zane… barked back.

“What’s your deal, huh?” Zane barked—literally barked—at Rascal, his voice coming out in a surprisingly accurate imitation of a dog’s growl. “This is my spot now, mutt. You’re just a guest in my territory.”

Rascal’s eyes went wide, and he froze, clearly not expecting this level of craziness from the man he had been trying to intimidate. For a moment, there was stunned silence, and then—

Rascal barked again, louder than before, his little body practically vibrating with indignation.

“Yeah? Yeah?” Zane shot back, his voice turning even more ridiculous as he leaned closer to the glass, his face almost pressed against it. “I can bark all day, buddy. All day. You think Ethan likes you best? Ha! Think again, furface.”

Rascal responded with a snarl, snapping his tiny teeth at the glass.

“Oh, that’s how it is?” Zane scoffed, his tone dripping with mock outrage. “You think you’re his favorite? Just because you’re small and fluffy and adorable?”