My Protector

Chapter 9

Fuming, I make the drive back to my house before realizing that I need to pick up food for Dozer. I shake my head, watching as he moves through the house slowly, waiting for something to jump out and get him. The poor thing fears his own shadow right now. I know that feeling. As much as I wish I could bring home my other dogs, I know that would go over about as poorly as you could expect. Dozer needs to get used to me before I introduce him to my other dogs.

Letting him outside, I sit on the porch watching as he makes his trips around the backyard; I really hope that he gets along well with my other dogs. I really should've thought this through more. Then again, I have a feeling Dozer won't be a permanent fixture in my small pitiful family unit. I have a feeling he's going to go back to Snake and they are going to be the best of buds getting into some kind of trouble. Snake seems like the class clown that's always laughing and getting into something.

After Dozer makes his rounds outside and does his business, I bring him inside. Finally talking myself into getting off my lazy rear and getting his food. Pulling out my phone I call Brandon, I might as well put in my two weeks now. "Angel, what can I do for you?"

"I'm sorry to have to do this to ya, but I'm putting my two weeks in." I'm greeted with silence before I hear a groan, I'm not making his day I take it.

"Is there anything I can do to stop you?" I shake my head before releasing a sigh.

"No, I'm sorry. I got an amazing job offer, I'd be an idiot not to take it."

"Can I have you on standby if things get real backed up?"

"Until you find an extra doctor. I don't want to be sitting on file for a long time." I don't really want to, but I know how working in the hospital goes. Shaking my head, I talk with Brandon for a few more minutes. Hanging up, I head in the store, getting the things I need for not only Dozer but for myself. I can't help but wonder if taking a job with the MC is going to come back and bite me in the ass. I roll my eyes at myself, letting out a soft chuckle; yeah, now I'm just being paranoid. It's been years. It's late to be asking myself this.

Having checked out and back on the road, I listen to music as I make the drive back home. I hope Dozer didn't get into any trouble, chuckling and rolling my eyes. Let's be honest, I've missed having a dog wandering around the house. It always sits so quiet; the house doesn't have a TV in it, meaning little to no noise. I can admit that it's daunting. My imagination likes to play games on me; shaking my head, I grab everything, toting it inside. I sort groceries and place the cold stuff in the fridge. I put the food in my storage bin, smiling as I make Dozer stand at attention watching intently.

"This is your food buddy." He wags slowly, not even taking his eyes off of the food. Patting his head, I fix up a bowl of his food. Setting it down, he practically inhales it like it's his last meal. It breaks my heart seeing this, he's probably used to fighting for his dinner. People are cruel, heartless assholes. Watching him for a moment longer, I move to the fridge to start my own dinner. Pulling out the ingredients, I turn on the age old radio. I stare at it for a long time; it was my father's old shop radio, when he upgraded he brought it home.

Mom loved to listen to country, the soft sweet stuff, shaking my head. I turned on the radio. I always play it when I miss them the most. Trying to bring life back into the once full home. This house used to be so vibrant, now it's just dull. Pulling myself from my thoughts, I focus on making my food. I probably shouldn't just let it go to waste. Dozer sits down, watching as I move through the kitchen making my salmon dinner. Humming to the music, I feel myself swaying to whatever singer is coming through the speakers.

Standing at the counter I eat my food, I never bother with the large dining table. It brings back too many memories; I hate staring at the empty seats. This whole house feels like a museum; a sad and depressing one at that. I'd move to an apartment if it wasn't because this is all I have left of my family. Rubbing at my eyes, I sniff, moving to clean the dishes. Having spent so much of my childhood away from my family, I feel the need to stay close to what I grew to know.