Chapter 17

“Are you still here?” He asked angrily. “Can’t you take a hint?”

With the toe of his shoe, he nudged the stray dog aside as he unlocked the door.

“Beat it,” he said.

But the dog looked at him with sad eyes and lay back down on the step, and rested his head on his forepaws.

“Suit yourself,” Jensen grumbled. “But don’t expect me to feed you.”

He slammed the door so hard when he got in. He moved to the kitchen. Taking a soda from the refrigerator, he stood and drank half the soda in one swallow. He rolled the cold can against his forehead.

He didn’t want or welcome anything in his life that made him feel or think. He was so pissed. He felt hollow and empty, and he liked it that way. He planned to keep out that way. Did that stupid dog think he was running some kind of shelter or something?

“Damn it,” he muttered.

Minutes later, he brought som