V: The V in Vengeance

Chapter 3-1

The V in Vengeance

By J.M. Snyder

Slowly, Vic Braunson became aware of heavy breathing that tickled his left ear. Still asleep, he brushed his hand over his cheek as if he could fan away the hot air. One word woke in his consciousness—Matt. Without thinking, Vic stretched out his mind to connect with his lover’s.

Silence answered him.

One bleary eye opened to glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table. The red digital numbers read 9:58, two minutes before Vic’s alarm was set to go off. It took all the strength he had to extract his arm from the warm confines of his blankets and reach across the short distance separating him from the clock. As he fumbled for the switch, the clock changed to 9:59, counting down to a time when the early morning stillness would be shattered. Vic turned off the alarm, then stretched his arm out across the bed as he rolled onto his back, mouth wide in a cavernous yawn. “Matty?”

The only response he got was a soft woof in his ear.

Vic turned his head and found himself face to face with a large golden dog. Part Labrador, part retriever, all mutt, the dog stared at Vic, eyes as black as buttons set in its face. When it saw he was awake, a pink tongue lolled out to lick at Vic’s cheek and that low woof! came again. How many times had Vic told Matt the dog wasn’t allowed in their bed?

“Matt?” Vic pushed the dog away as it tried to lick him again. Sitting up, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stretched life into his sleepy muscles, but after a moment he felt a cold, damp nose press against the base of his spine. He jerked to his feet, startled. “Sadie!”

The dog lay in the middle of their bed, head in her paws, those wide eyes now turned up to Vic in a contrite expression. One ear raised quizzically; the other hung limp, its torn edge healed to a shiny pink. A thin whimper only added to her dejected appearance. Though Vic glared at the dog, he couldn’t hold his anger for long. Snatching a pair of his boxers off the floor, he stepped into them and muttered, “Get the hell off the bed.”

Bounding up, Sadie leapt to the floor, all pretense of sadness gone. Her eyes sparkled, her mouth opened wide, and her tail swung wildly as it knocked against the bed, the wall, Vic’s legs. She circled him, eager, tongue darting out to wet first one hand, then the other, then the back of his knees when he pulled his hands away. He started for the doorway only to find her already racing ahead, leading him down the hall. He let her get a few yards ahead before he switched direction in mid-step and ducked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him for some privacy.

Two seconds later, he heard the perpetual wag of her tail thud against the bathroom door.

“Go lay down,” he growled as he relieved himself.

The thudding stopped, but he heard her hindquarters plop down on the floor and knew she waited just outside for him. Vic groaned. What had happened to his quiet mornings alone, waking up slowly, savoring his coffee before he had to head to work?

Sadie happened, that’s what, and to be honest, it was Vic’s fault. He’d found the dog at a construction site, where she had fallen victim to a few mean kids. He came to her rescue, and Animal Control took her off his hands. But when Officer Kendra Jones told Vic the chances weren’t very good that a rangy mutt like that wouldn’t be put down, he stepped in a second time and offered to take the dog home. His lover Matt diLorenzo had been talking about getting a pet, and Vic always made sure Matt got what he wanted.

So, Sadie. In the few weeks they’d had the dog, Matt had managed to spoil it rotten. Yes, there was a pet bed in one corner of their bedroom, and they kept a large cage under the kitchen table, but whenever Vic woke in the morning, the dog was always beside him in the bed. Why Matt couldn’t cage her after their morning walk, Vic didn’t know.

Well no, he did know. Sadie didn’t do well in a cage, even one as large and roomy as the one Matt had bought. Vic knew the dog had plenty of room in it because he’d crawled into the thing himself to show her how it worked, and damned if Matt hadn’t grabbed the digital camera to take a few quick pictures of him on his hands and knees before Vic told his lover to knock it off.

“God, seeing you like this does wicked things to me,” Matt said, a sly grin on his handsome face. “If Sadie decides she doesn’t like the cage, maybe we can find some use for it. A pair of handcuffs, a leather whip, your ass flat up against the bars where I can get at it—what do you say?”

Crawling out of the cage, Vic warned, “If anyone ever sees those pictures…”

Matt stepped up to him, pressing his body against Vic’s. Nearby Sadie sat on the floor, tail thumping, as she watched Matt quiet Vic with a kiss. “Nobody sees them but me,” Matt promised. “What kind of superpower do you think you’d get if we f****d in that thing? Hey! Remember—”

“No.” Vic shook his head, adamant. Even without the telepathic ability they shared, he knew exactly where his lover was headed with the thought and he didn’t want to remember that particular power—there had been nothing super about excessive hair growth that had turned Vic into a shaggy Sasquatch. Matt might have enjoyed seeing his boyhood fantasies of making love to someone furry come true, but Vic had hated being covered head to foot in a long, luxurious pelt of hair. He liked his body smooth, shaved, and the memory of that horrible Halloween still haunted him.

Despite Vic’s demonstration of the cage, Sadie didn’t like it. The first day Vic left her alone in it, Matt came home from work to find her howling—he could hear her from the street, and their elderly landlady stood on the landing as he entered their building, the look on her face rivaling Vic’s sternest glare. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” she swore. “That beast is ungodly! Where is Vic—”

“He’s at work, Mrs. K.” Matt ducked around her and headed for the door to his apartment, key already in hand. When Sadie heard it scrape into the lock, her infernal howling ceased immediately. “She’s just lonely. I’m sorry, I really am.”

“She needs daycare,” Mrs. K. spat. “She’s terrorizing my cats!”

At the time Matt had thought she’d only said it in anger but later that evening, he looked in the phone book and found there was such a thing as daycare for dogs after all. Because he and Vic worked different schedules, they didn’t need to leave Sadie for too long—Matt went to work at eight, Vic at noon. They chose a facility near the gym; Vic could drop off the dog when he came in to lift weights before heading to work, and Matt could pick her up when he left for the day at five. She wouldn’t be away from home for long, and the interaction with other dogs would be good for her. The arrangement worked out perfectly.

Only now they had an empty cage no one used, and Sadie never stayed in her pet bed after Matt left for work in the mornings. Instead, she preferred to snuggle up beside Vic. He didn’t know what was worse—Matt’s gentle teasing when he was still half asleep or Sadie’s over-eager obnoxiousness when he first woke up.

When he flushed the toilet, he heard Sadie’s claws on the hardwood floor as she scrambled to her feet. With a groan, Vic slowly opened the bathroom door—he only got it a few inches before Sadie’s golden snout shoved into the crack.

“Sit,” Vic commanded. Sadie disappeared immediately.

At least she listened to him. He opened the door fully to find her sitting on the floor, tail sweeping across the hardwood and wrinkling the throw rug in its path. When she saw Vic frown at her, Sadie barked softly. The dog was as bad as Matt, and, unfortunately for Vic, he couldn’t stay mad with either for long. “Just calm down,” he muttered, scratching behind the dog’s ears as he headed down the hall toward the kitchen. “It’s too early for this shit.”

Sadie trailed behind him, right on his heels. In the kitchen, Vic found a fresh pot of coffee warming for him and a note written in Matt’s blocky handwriting taped to the front of the coffeemaker. I made muffins. Look on the stove. Don’t give one to Sadie! They’re chocolate chip because I love you.

It took Vic’s sleepy mind a moment to work through the message. It seemed like nonsense to him. Matt baked muffins, that much he could get. They were on the stove—Vic glanced behind him and saw a dinner plate covered with tinfoil, so that made sense. But why mention the dog?

He didn’t know. Frankly, he didn’t care. A muffin or three slathered with butter would complement his coffee nicely. Pouring himself a steaming mug of java, he grabbed the butter from the fridge, then carried the plate of muffins into the dining room. At his feet, Sadie whined.

“Hush,” Vic admonished, holding up the balled note so she could see it. “This says none for you.”

That dejected look again—how an animal who couldn’t smile or frown still managed to look so pitiful amazed Vic. Before the dog came into their lives, he hadn’t really understood why people kept pets. They had no personality, he’d thought, nothing to offer to a relationship. All they did was eat and sleep and s**t…why put up with it in the first place?

Now he knew why. As he settled into his chair, Sadie set her chin on his thigh, the heavy weight warm through Vic’s flannel robe. Scratching Sadie’s floppy ear, Vic murmured, “Good dog.” Absently he petted the top of her head, careful to keep the muffins over the plate so no crumbs would fall on the floor. He had to admit, he did like this—this lull in time, when the two of them sat quietly together, content to be still.

The only thing missing was Matt. If he were home, Vic’s morning would be perfect. At least he’d get to see Matt soon—he exercised at the same gym where Matt worked as a pool instructor, and since Sadie’s daycare was nearby, Vic always stopped in to see his lover before heading to his own job at the city bus depot. The thought of a few minutes alone with his lover made Vic eat faster, eager to get going.