I Can't Own You? (BOOK 1)

48 (NEW)

REBA

I needed a break from being a peeping tom, so I go down to an unfinished basement, and start laundry. Cheeto lies on an over sized bed. A light brown, golden retriever with big black eyes and a never-ending waving tail. He doesn't want to be around Chris it seems. Never has he hid out in the basement, despite having a bed down here, he sleeps with his mommy.

I find all of this odd...Cheeto has been around my son since we got him as a puppy. Before Chris graduated from high school, they were pals. So why the mannerism? Why the hostility? Why the isolation?

I load a hamper of clothes into a front door washer. Phil's socks smell of a disease! Eww! He needs to soak his feet since he stays in work shoes all day. I stuff the load into the machine, making enough room before closing the low set door. I add washing powder, then set the machine to normal.

Cheeto gives a light whimper. "What is it, boy?" He barks, raising his head. "Do you want a snack?" I walk to a cabinet on the wall and open it. A box of bone-shaped treats gets him riled up. "Now, be a good boy, no more of the mean." I grab two treats and toss them into the air; with ease, the dog jumps and catches each in his mouth. I tap at my leg as I head to the stairs. "Come on." Cheeto follows me.

Upstairs is quiet...this quiet always makes me feel lonely. Phil works most of the day, leaving me to spend time with Cheeto and my thoughts. From time to time, Nakamo visits to vent about his sacrifice. Hmm, where is he? I look around, checking the kitchen, living room, dining, and bathroom. Hmm. I walk to the front door and open it, feeling stormy winds sweep my clothes. A storm is coming.

I spot Nakamo in his car, staring down at his phone...or his hands. I can't tell from this angle. His face is long and deep in thought. He needs to talk to someone...either me or Chris. This is too much for him, that bitch of a fiancé isn't helping matters at all. Should I go talk to him or leave it be?

Cheeto zips out from behind me and jets onto the front yard, spinning and hopping around in the grass, his fur whipping like water in the wind. Nakamo's head follows the movement, watching Cheeto's silliness. Well, I guess I gotta say something now.

I step out and walk to the car. Cheeto goes in between my legs, hyper actively. I near the window as it lowers, and am greeted with glum, pretty eyes. "You two will work it out...trust me. Partnership is rocky more than it's smooth. Call if you need to talk."

He nods once. "I will."

Cheeto stretches up to the window and tilts his head at Nakamo, who smiles and rubs his ears, receiving a sweet lick from the dog in return. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." He says in a tired voice.

So sad...but he can change this issue so easily if he wanted too. He knows he can. I wave while backing away from the Jeep, whistling to make Cheeto do the same. We both watch as Nakamo starts the car, reverse, and pulls off down the street. The cloudy sky grows dim. A distant roll of thunder faintly rumbles the sky. I watch the Jeep until it's too far out of sight. I turn and make to go back inside but find myself halting in place.

An odd feeling hits me-a feeling of being surveyed. My eyes search the street, looking up and down it. A few cars are parked on the curb. Ones I recognized. All except for one. An old model, with no brand title, dark green, and just a few houses down. A driver is present.

I squint, making out the silhouette of the person. They weren't looking at me like I thought...hmm...guess I'm being paranoid. People get new cars or have guests, that may be all it is. Relax. At that, I go inside, locking the door.

Relax.

Voices come from the kitchen. "Come on, are you serious, you never had liver cheese?" My son exclaims. My flats tap on the floor as I head to the kitchen, finding the two standing at the refrigerator. "That's it; we're binge eating it."

"It sounds disgusting." Sam shakes his head.

"Uh uh, with some saltine crackers and juice...or even water, it hits the spot."

Sam gives a look of disgust. "I'll pass."

"He's picky," I note lowly, crossing my arms, and clearing my throat, causing the two to turn their attention on me. "How about takeout...pizza? Chinese?"

"I thought we were going to The Taste?" Chris sounds bombed out.

"Maybe tomorrow." When Nakamo feels better after sleeping off nonsense, he has to go out with us, I finish the sentence mentally. "There's bad weather anyway; we can pick a movie and chill."

"Please don't say chill...." Chris gives a cringing shiver of his neck and shoulders.

"Okay, hang," I say, forcing my coolness.

Chris side-eyes Sam. "She's trying to be hip."

"I am, aren't I?" I ask Sam, who is stuck in a hard place. I crack up at his comedic expression, his awkwardness. Hmm, he has some cuteness to him...I'll give you that Chris. "Thank you for agreeing. Now...we can watch Poltergeist."

"That's a good one." Sam agrees.

"Suck up." Chris closes the refrigerator, which makes a suction noise when meeting the door's lining. "Pizza it is." Cheeto prances into the kitchen, his ears straight along with his tail. His sight focused on Chris, as he growls throatily.

"Hey!" I shout scolding the do. "Stop it!"

Chris inches towards Cheeto, slowly, cautiously. "He should remember my scent at least." He bends down and pats at his legs, summoning the dog, who growls on at a deeper range now. "Come here, boy, come on, get your yellow ass over here." Cheeto makes as if he's going to comply with the order. He moves up a few feet, extending his nose, only to pause and growl again and become defensive.

Strange...what is he sensing??