Remember Love: Saints Protection & Investigations by Maryann Jordan Read Free Book Online Page B

Marc smiling at him, a knowing expression on his friend’s face.
    *
    For the next three days, Blaise met with Gypsy and her beautiful owner. Each day they had something different to eat and he realized that he looked forward to meeting them. She relaxed bit by bit, her skittishness easing each time they met. He was pleased to see her eat and at least knew she and Gypsy had one full meal a day.
    Days later Blaise paced back and forth wearing the grass down near the picnic table they always ate at. Constantly looking at his watch, he wondered where she was. Is she hurt? Sick? Did she take off again? Did I scare her off?
    Thirty minutes passed and he grew more worried by the moment. Running his hand through his thick hair, he began to curse under his breath, drawing the censure of a few moms passing by.
    Where can she be? Why, oh why didn’t I get her—
    “Blaise!” her voice cried, the sound almost drowned out by the pounding of her feet on the pavement as she ran toward him.
    Relief flooded him until he caught sight of her face as she came closer and his eyes dropped to her side. Where’s Gypsy? Fuck!
    She did not stop running until she collapsed almost at his feet. His arms reached out, gathering her, as he dropped to the ground with her.
    Panting to the point of not being able to speak, she tried nonetheless. “Gyp…sy…some…thing…wrong.”
    He brushed her hair, now loose from its braid, away from her flushed face. “Breathe, sweetheart. Slow it down, and breathe.”
    Her breath hitched as she continued to speak, “You…got…ta…come…Gyp…sy.”
    He stood, assisting her from the ground, and said, “Let’s go. I’ll drive and you can show me where she is.”
    A nod was her only answer as he kept his arm around her waist offering her support. Thankful, because he parked his jeep close by, they were inside and pulling away from the park within a few minutes.
    “Where are we going?”
    Her head jerked around, looking out the windows. “I don’t know the street names. But turn around and I’ll take you the way I come.”
    Following her directions, it took fifteen minutes to drive and Blaise realized how far she had been walking every day, just to meet him at the park. Why didn’t I ever ask? I could have saved her all this walking! His face, a mask of irritation, matched his tight grip on the steering wheel.
    She looked over, seeing his anger. Hanging her head, she realized he was going out of his way to help her—again—and this time, it appeared that he was mad about it. She felt guilty, but pushed that emotion to the background, willing to face his ire to help Gypsy.
    “Here, turn here,” she said, pointing down a long drive at the end of a cul-de-sac.
    He followed her pointing finger, noting the weeds were tall, the grass not trimmed in what appeared to be years. His curiosity piqued, he wondered what dwelling he would find at the end of the drive. His answer appeared before him, but it was all he could do to not gawk.
    A ramshackle shack stood amongst the weeds. The windows were broken out and it appeared uninhabitable…possibly for years. She lives here? No fuckin’ way!
    She jumped out of the vehicle, almost before it came to a stop, rushing toward the back of the house. Blaise followed closely as they rounded to the back door and watched in horror as she simply gave it a strong push to open it. The lack of basic security almost drove him to his knees.
    Inside, she rushed through what was originally the kitchen and into the front room. On a pallet of old blankets, laid Gypsy. She dropped down next to the dog, who whimpered its greeting.
    “What happened?” Blaise asked, immediately squatting next to the dog as well.
    “She was fine this morning and I let her run in the yard for just a bit. Then she came limping back, barely putting any weight on her front right leg. By the time this happened, it was almost time to leave to meet you. I kept trying to see what was wrong, but she snapped