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Fang 7

Fang

I had put it off too long already. Going to see the new owner of The Drunken Otter. But I couldn't put it off any longer. She was hosting my party tomorrow, the least I owed the woman was a hello. Not that I wanted to.

I had no time for women like her.

I had no time for any woman beyond taking my fill. Not anymore.

Something huge and grey leapt out in front of me, jolting me back to reality. I swerved, but my bike clipped it and sent it tumbling further into the road.

Panting, I came to a stop, throwing a glance behind me to see what the hell I had just hit.

A dog.

A dog the size of a fucking pony got up, shaking its scraggly grey fur, and started limping towards the curb. Who the hell had a dog that big? And what the hell was it doing running free in my town?

“Woofy.”

Frowning, I looked down the street to see Pope’s old lady tottering towards us in her usual skyscraper heels. There was a rainbow-coloured dog leash dragging behind her.

“What the actual fuck is that?” Slippi
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