Or maybe that was fear, because those glowing eyes were getting damned closer to the truck.
Joe didn’t know why he was so scared. He was in his truck—he hit the door lock. Unfortunately, the passenger door had to be locked manually, and he dove to the right, reaching for the little knob by the passenger window.
And he missed, falling over halfway while his foot slipped off the brake.
“Shiiiit!” Joe flung himself upright and stomped on the brake. The truck shot forward. “Fuck! Gas! Brake!” His head spun as his pulse accelerated at a speed much faster than the truck.
Joe slammed on the brakes and hit the steering wheel again. He shoved the truck into park and reached for the knob to turn on the lights again. His hand was shaking so bad it took two tries, but he managed finally to get the headlights back on. He watched as those glowing eyes faded some, but they still seemed unnaturally colored when Joe saw the critter they were attached to.
“A—” He frowned and leaned so far forward his head almost touched the windshield. “Coyote?” If so, it was a big one. The thing was almost as tall as the truck. Joe was certain its pointy ears reached the top of the grille, at least. “You ain’t no coyote.”
He felt instant relief when it dawned on him that he must be looking at someone’s German Shepherd. A big German Shepherd, sure, but it wasn’t a coyote and the markings were similar to a German Shepherd he’d seen ages ago.
“Someone must have dumped you, huh, buddy?” Joe chuckled and leaned back in the seat. “Damn, boy. Or girl. You about scared a decade off me.”
For one fleeting second, he wondered if it was a wolf, but Joe discounted the idea. Once there’d been red wolves in the area, but they’d been extinct for a long time. At least they had been from Texas. He vaguely remembered hearing something on a TV show about them having been raised in captivity and freed elsewhere.
As far as he knew, there weren’t any other wolves native to the area, so that had to be a dog, he reasoned.
It walked out to stand in front of the truck. Joe shivered as he looked into the dog’s yellow eyes.
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About the Author
A native Texan, Bailey spends her days spinning stories around in her head, which has contributed to more than one incident of tripping over her own feet. Evenings are reserved for pounding away at the keyboard, as are early morning hours. Sleep? Doesn’t happen much. Writing is too much fun, and there are too many characters bouncing about, tapping on Bailey’s brain demanding to be let out.
Caffeine and chocolate are permanent fixtures in Bailey's office and are never far from hand at any given time. Removing either of those necessities from Bailey’s presence can result in what is known as A Very, Very Scary Bailey and is not advised under any circumstances.
Bailey loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website details and author profile page at https://www.pride-publishing.com
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