Stab

EVERY SECOND SEEMS to last forever, but I'm not sure if it's because I'm heartbroken for the first time...or it's because I suddenly find myself guilty of breaking and entering, also for the first time.

My surroundings only grow increasingly bizarre as Flint leads us deeper into the basement.

A seemingly endless hallway snakes before us, with doors on each side. And with every step we take, the more vulgar and crazier it gets.

I know I should be more terrified and cautious, but it's difficult to remember the owner of this place as a hardened criminal when his interior design choices include tanks filled with floating fish-shaped condoms (why would people even create this?), peach-shaped bedroom doors (why?), and last but not the least, a powder room with velvet ropes for walls, and a Japanese toilet with what I can only presume to be DC's own face, painted Picasso style, as a seat cover.

The more I see, the more I think we're at the wrong place.

How can my Sunlight be—- oh!

That noise!

I grab the back of Flint's shirt in a frantic tug and point to the door on my left.

He raises a brow, and I nod vehemently. If you've been around dogs long enough, you'll know the sound of them making zoomies, and—- who is this guy?

My jaw drops as Flint steps up to the door’s security panel. His fingers move with a precision that’s almost hypnotic—tap here, push there, twist this, slide that.

I'm half-impressed, half-alarmed. Who is he, really? FBI agents shouldn't be criminally good at doing these things. Right? I'm starting to feel suspicious—-but all thoughts of Flint fly out of the window when the door finally swings open.

My baby!

I'm about to run inside when Flint abruptly pulls me back, his expression one of disbelief.

That's Sunlight?

I nod with a mixture of relief and pride. Yes!

He takes his phone out and shows me the photo that I sent him.

Oh.

Right.

I smile at him weakly. That photo was two months ago, I mouth.

Flint looks at me as if he's this close to strangling my neck. Two! Fucking! Months!

I throw my hands up helplessly. Sunlight is a growing boy, and it's not my fault that dogs like him can easily double in size in a matter of weeks.

Sunlight suddenly barks, and the sound makes me flinch while Flint's body turns rigid with tension.

Flint's gaze narrows at me. Can you keep him quiet?

I'll try...

That's what I planned to say, but when Sunlight barks for the second time, everything just happens so fast—-

Oh God.

Sunlight is in Flint's arms—-

No, God, no!

And he can no longer make a sound with Flint mercilessly stabbing my dog in the neck.