The Verge (Gang/ Werewolf/ Mafia)

Frodo

The supermarket was packed, being five thirty when everyone and their mother was coming home from work and stopping by to pick up their supper for the night. The pet isle was clear but for a small child begging his mother for puppy treats. She was desperately trying to explain the fact that their cat wouldn't like the pig ears. Gross.  Picking the cheap bag of food, guilt flooded my veins. Some day Baby would be fed from a silver platter. Today just wasn't that day. As a gesture of good faith I grabbed a small can of wet food, one of her favorite specialties. The fluorescent lights ever unforgiving, a dull ache started behind my lids. The self checkout was my best friend, no judging eyes as I pulled the crumple of ones from my back pocket and shoved them into the machine.

"That stuff s'awful for them. Its like McDonalds for dogs. Spend a few bucks more so you don't kill Frodo before his time." Ever hear one of those gravel trucks dumping rocks onto concrete? Such a distinct sound you would hear it anywhere and know exactly what it was. That's this males voice. Deep and painful. Annoying as shit.

"I get paid tomorrow, but she was out today. Would you rather Baby  starve?" I spit at him. Frodo. As if, Mr. Alpha. His shit eating grin appears and light dazzles off his pearly white canines.

"Is that what you're eating as well?" He scoffs "and people call me a dog." Blood boils. Lights start to flicker and I can feel the ends of my hair starts to lift.

Deep breath in. Slowly let it out. Again. Again. Slower. There we go. "Have a good day, mutt" I say. A sweet, innocent voice. You ass! Assmunch from hell! The things I want to do to you! I scream at him internally. Logic stops the foolishness. Alpha Roman is not an enemy I want or need. If anything, he's been tolerant of my antics. I'm probably the only non canine he's let close to him or his pack, at any rate. Then again, nobody can keep me away, either.

He simply shrugs and stares at me as I turn and walk away. From under my lashes I glance back at him. He is a big, big boy. A traditional style of semi fitted jeans and a thin sweater for the autumn air, not that it would affect his wolf body anyway. Long, thick legs. A tapered waist and a barrel of a chest. Strong arms paired with baseball mitt hands. My eyes continue up and see he has caught me staring, a flash of his tongue pokes between his full lips. He did not stick his tongue out at me! He barks a laugh and a stupid realization dawns on me. I'm stalk still in the middle of the automatic doors, a constant dinging as warning that they have been open for some time. Meaning me, a dumb dummy has been blocking them for a while. Red heat flushes my body, and I sprint away. The pain in my head bloomed to a full strength headache. Stupid Mutt!

At home, a deep hunger has been echoing in my stomach for a few hours, which is nothing really. Starvation was anything but new. Baby was simply delighted at the sight of the wet food, and she ate until she licked her bowl clean. "You know." I call to her "you are getting a bit chunky there, dear." She slants me a look, and cocks her head. " Well I simply can't let you get fat! Think of your reputation, Kathrine!" I giggle. Her tail starts to swish on the hard floor at my laugh. She is all limbs and dopey ears as she bolts over, and pushes her way into my lap. Her fur is long and black, fluffy and soft, making her appear much bigger than she really is. Underneath she has a thin body of muscle and love. Her needle like paws puncture my belly and I groan. "I know silly baby girl, I would never name you something so prim. You're too goofy!" Her brown eyes are warm as she stares at my soul.

In an instant, she is no longer in my lap, but going bat shit crazy at the door. Even her hackles raise, her turf being trespassed. My gut turns to knots and I glance at the bat I keep just in case. I know, never bring a knife to a gun fight, let alone a stupid bat. I shush her, to no use. Gingerly I pat the floor, and she comes to my side, foaming spit starting to gather at her mouth. I listen, but there is nothing to hear that my human ears can pick up. Slowly she calms, my hand at her chest. When she quiets completely I peak out from behind the curtain and spot the bags on the front step. Clutching the bat, the door swings open. Looking around, the only thing out of place is the plastic grocery bags from the market. At first glance I see high end dog food and treats. Further investigation shows the other bag contains a simple meal of fried chicken and mashed potatoes, some green beans to boot. Enough for a few servings at least. It dawns on me that he is probably sitting out there, in his flashy car that his drug money bought him, watching me. With a cocky smile. And full lips and...

I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do! Shove up a middle finger at his money and charity. That's what! But oh, the chicken smells so good and the echo rolls through my stomach. Baby paws at my leg, asking permission with a whine to dive into the bags.

"Thank you" I grumble lowly. He can hear it, that bastard. If I didn't have such a soft spot for my fur child, and if I wasn't starving, and if.... whatever. I would take the food any day. Why not, he can afford it. Instead of bringing it in, I call to Baby and we march side by side to Land Lady's home. Baby barks and I can hear Lady call out to come in before we even get to the door.

***

Smooth leather slides between my hands as I stomp the gas and drive away from the crap trailer park. Wasn't sure whether she'd take the food or not. N' had to make sure she got home. Pretty girl shouldn't be walking alone in this town. Even if she was crazy. Stubborn shit that she is, she gave a look that would make grown men cry, when she saw those bags on her step. But she'd eat, her dog and old neighbor would too. Brought out a bat, like that would keep her safe if I really wanted to hurt her. Made me laugh. Glancing at the cell in hand, a text came through sayin food deliveries for Frodo would come by every other week. No, not Frodo, Baby. Some name. Girl wouldn't take human food more than once, but she loved the pooch. Shed take the chow for her.

***

"I brought dinner!" I yell to her. In the distance there is a screech of tires and a roar of an engine.  Inside is a shaggy old woman and her faithful pooch that she named Cookie. Cookie was a rat of a dog, full of tremmors and yipps but her and Baby got along well.

"Smells good." Lady learned to never look a gift horse in the mouth, whatever that really meant. I filled Cookies dish high with food and put extra in the closet for her later. Baby got a treat to chew on, she would eat herself sick if I let her. We sat around the couch as a broken family and ate the food I didn't pay for. Our pups lolled next to each other. Cookie eating piece by piece as that's all her little mouth would allow and baby on her back with her front paws holding her bone up in the air. Lady told the stories I'd heard countless times before of old dreams and happy times. She'd had a daughter, and thought she still did but couldn't be sure because they hadn't seen each other in years, and hadn't spoken for even longer. There had also been a husband, a high school sweetheart that died in his 60's because he was a smoker.

We sat there until dark, and lady watched us walk home because night time was dangerous. She insists I take all the leftovers home, but she knows I'll be back over to share the rest with her tomorrow night.

In the dark and in my parents old bed, I think of them and how their clothes don't smell how they used too. Thoughts overtake my mind as the night goes on, and Baby's breath puffs softly against my face. My father's shirt is my pajamas and my mother's socks cover my feet. My little brothers teddy is tucked safely under my arm. My eyes close and behind my lids is a picture of my family walking out of the door, brother hanging over my dads shoulder and his chubby cheeks red with laughter.