CHAPTER 4

As he drove towards the mansion, the scent of the woods filled the car, but it did little to clear his mind as he wrestled with the bewildering circumstances.

She’s just forgiven you. That’s all. There’s nothing more to it. Stop being paranoid and be glad she’s forgotten about yesterday.

Yes. That was it. She’d gotten over her tantrum and wanted to move on.

But still, it was such a drastic change in so little time…

Arriving at the mansion, he parked before the gate, his palms slick with anticipation. The gate creaked open, revealing Alisa on the other side, her smile bright, but instead of walking out, she gestured for him to approach.

A smile played on Steve’s lips, yet his frown suggested underlying unease.

He raised his left hand, palm up, expressing confusion, but she went on gesturing at him to come in.

Steve stepped lightly on the gas, and the car moved past the gate.

He felt a tingle of nervousness. This was the first time he’d ever been inside the Dowlings’ property.

She gestured to her right, indicating him to park next to her father’s Porsche. He did, then switched off the engine. He stepped out of the car and saw her approach. “Hey. What–”

She cut him off by attaching her lips to his, and they kissed under the darkening November sky, the air growing colder by the second.

Steve’s heart pounded with anticipation as he felt the warmth of her body pressed against his.

And right then he noticed just how much he needed her in his life and decided that he’d do anything in his hands to keep her by his side.

He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, she put a finger on his lips and whispered, “Come with me.”

Steve’s happiness dissolved into disquiet as Alisa led him to her father’s shed, the structure looming before them. There was a yapping sound coming from inside. Steve narrowed his eyes, a flicker of suspicion crossing his face. “What’s going on, love? What do you have in there? Sounds like–”

She brought a finger to her lips. “Shh.” She smiled. “You’ll see. I think you’re going to love it.”

She opened the door of the shed, and the yap grew louder and fiercer.

“Here, come.”

They stepped inside, and Alisa switched on a light.

And when Steve looked at the back of the shed and regarded the source of the strident sound, his breath clogged up, and his eyes widened.

“What is this?” he muttered. He was astonished, unable to comprehend what he was witnessing.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Alisa was beaming, like she was having the time of her life.

Steve gulped.

There was a dog, a mutt—it looked like a cross between Vizsla and Spanish Hound—and its collar had been chained to the wall.

It was lying on the floor, sideways. At first glance, it looked as if it was in a resting position, except that its body was shaking, and its legs were moving in short, intermittent spasms.

Upon taking a closer look, Steve noticed what had been done to the poor dog’s left eye, and his stomach churned. Its right ear had been cut off. The sound emerging from its throat was the most dreadful sound Steve had ever heard; more than a bark, it sounded like a pleading sob.

Alisa laughed. “Well? What do you think?”

Her voice was coming from far away. He couldn’t stop looking at the poor creature, his stare frozen, gaping at what used to be the dog’s left eye.

“Alisa…what have you done?”

“What have I done?” She smirked. “Well, what does it look like? I’ve been having some fun with that fleabag.”

He turned his head and met her eyes, and when he saw the wild sparkle in them, that shine of genuine enjoyment, an idea surfaced for the first time in his mind.

She’s crazy.

It was an immediate and unquestionable realization for him, and the smooth way the idea settled in his mind implied that, deep inside, he’d known this all along.

Her hands were on her waist as she gave him an angry look. “What’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a fucking ghost or something.”

Steve pressed his lips. Yeah, she’s crazy, all right. She’s fucking nuts, and I’ve been a fool for not having seen it before.

“You broke its legs,” he heard himself say.

A chuckle escaped her. “Of course I did, silly. I wouldn’t want that filthy thing running around all over the place, turning everything upside down, now would I?”

The dog—a beautiful combination of light-brown with patches of white on its paws and snout—looked pleadingly at Steve through its one good eye. The sight made Steve’s heart tremble.

He cleared his throat. “Alisa, this…” He pointed a hand at the miserable dog, attempting to make himself heard over the desperate yapping. “This is not right.”

“What is not right?” She looked genuinely confused.

“This is not right. Hurting an animal is not right.” He felt nauseous. “What were you thinking? We have to take him to the vet. Right now. It’s suffering a lot.”

“Well, yeah, of course it’s suffering,” Alisa said, exasperated. “That’s the whole point.” She crossed her arms. “Are you really expecting me to feel sorry for a dirty, shit-eating stray dog? Seriously?” She huffed and shook her head. “God, you sure know how to spoil the fun.”

Steve couldn’t take it any longer. The dog’s suffering was drilling a hole in his heart. “I’m taking him to the vet, Alisa. This has got to stop. We need to help him. You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want, but I’m taking him–”

“The hell you are,” she spat at him. “If you don’t want to have some fun, then I will.”

She grabbed a baseball bat leaning against the wall, and before Steve could try to stop her, she dealt the dog a hard blow, right in the ribs, and the poor thing let out a heartrending yell, its legs shaking. Steve flinched, too terrified to move, unable to look away.

Alisa stared at Steve, her eyes filled with defiance. “How was that, huh? I bet I can hit him even harder. What do you think?”

“Alisa, please, stop it! Just please leave him alone.”

A cruel smirk touched her mouth before she brought the bat down again, connecting with the animal’s lower back, and Steve was certain he heard something crack. A piercing howl escaped the stray dog’s throat, which was then followed by a series of sobs that sounded painfully human.

Do something, for Christ’s sake. Put an end to it.

“Hey, I changed my mind,” he said, forcing a smile, trying to sound calm. “I think I’d like to have a go at it.”

She studied him with a keen eye. “Really?”

“Yeah, sure. It…it looks like fun. And you’re right: it’s nothing but an ugly mutt.”

The tension in her face melted away, replaced by a broad, delighted grin. “Now that’s the Steve I like. For a second there, you had me a little worried.” She handed him the bat. “Here, go for it.”

Unable to prevent his hands from shaking, he took the bat, sauntered to the dog, and stared at it.

It looked back at him through its one good eye, and Steve felt his throat shrink.

However, he felt a connection with the dog, sensing its awareness of what he was about to do and its relief that it would soon be over.

Good boy, Steve thought, fighting to repress the tears. You’re a good boy. Soon it’ll be over. I’m so sorry for what you’ve been through.

Hoping the dog could somehow read his thoughts, Steve raised the bat, tensed his face, and began thrashing the animal’s head repeatedly, feeling its skull break, watching blood spurt out of its ears, nose and mouth.

And when the dog stopped crying and moving, Steve went on beating its head, wanting to ensure it was dead, to put it out of its misery.

And during all of it, Alisa stared at the wretched animal, grinning from ear to ear.