Book one of three in the Forbidden Alliance Trilogy
Jay Dee doesn't know where she came from, who she is, or why she washed up on the beach when she was a child. The only life she had ever known was on the reservation with her tribe and pack. In a w...
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"Dude, you so owe me," Jarvis sang from the passenger seat.
Hopefully, Abby was able to get Jay Dee to Seattle before we head over to the mainland. Nothing would be more embarrassing then getting caught trying to buy her birthday present.
"Why do I owe you?" I finally asked to pacify the strange pup who was bouncing with excitement next to me.
"She said 'dress'!" he beamed with a face consuming smile.
This pup is completely nuts!
"Is dress a profanity in your home?" I asked to pacify him.
"Might as well be," he said with a shrug. "My sister hasn't worn a dress in years."
I snarled and my hands tightened on steering wheel.
"I am well aware of that," I hissed. "Marsha Heder is on my shit list despite your sister telling me to let it go."
However, the idea of Jay Dee in a sexy slinky designer dress was very agreeable to both heads.
Jarvis looked at me confused. "What does that train pulling cow have to do with anything?"
Bugger! He does not know. Shit.
I shrugged and turned the stereo up.
"No, no, no!" he shouted over the music. "You know something I don't," he accused and turned the music off. "Spill, Count Suckula. What do you know that I obviously don't?"
"Regrettably, Mr. Jarvis, tis not my story to tell. You must understand and respect that."
He pouted in his seat during the entire ferry trip, and then he laughed like a lunatic when we reached the mainland.
"If you don't tell me," he said, "I won't tell you how to end each of my sister's arguments regarding the present you're about to get for her before they can even leave her lips."
Bollocks. The mongrel had a good counteroffer, an unarguable one.
Damn it.
"Damn it," I huffed.
I told Jarvis what Jay Dee had told me, and his response was much the same as mine: a dark, menacing growl rolled from his chest and his hands balled into fists on his lap.
"I could not agree more, Pup," I said.
"We can make a detour to that bitch's trailer on the way back," he suggested, studying the thin, white lines on the inside of his arm. "It will only take a moment, unless of course you want to torture her, in which case we should go tomorrow morning so we aren't pressed for time."
I laughed. It was rather amusing, finding out that I had something in common with the puppy, even if it was merely revenge and homicidal tendencies.
