by Logan Chance
The dog—the dog is gone. Like vanished without a fucking trace.
Normally, Warrior is up the moment my eyes blink. No, scratch that, he’s usually up at the side of the bed, panting, with a pair of shoes in his mouth wanting to play fetch at two in the morning.
But he’s gone.
Vanished.
I’ve been ghosted by my own dog.
By our dog.
Oh shit.
That treacherous motherf— “Ford?”
“I need to get some air. I feel like I’m coming down with something.” Katy stirs but rolls over and falls back to sleep so I can sneak out of the room.
Out in the hallway I’m about to lose my mind. How does a two-hundred pound dog wind up MIA? The only thing I find comfort in is the fact that whoever finds him will bring his ass back ASAP. He’s not exactly an easy animal to deal with.
Nor am I. I understand this.
I’m not dog shaming him.
The fuck I am.
Ok, but on a serious note … it’s petrifying to lose your dog. He could be anywhere, with anyone.
Fuck.
I head down to the beach and begin my hunt. I search every inch of the island until the sun peaks over the water and suddenly I’m completely screwed. By the time I get back to the hotel room Katy will be awake and I’m going to officially lose everything precious in my world. My girl. My dog. Double fuck my life.
I slide the keycard through the slot and prepare myself to be gutted. The door opens and I step through, holding my breath, feeling like a weight is sitting square on my chest pressing me down to the earth.
I can’t breathe.
The weight grows heavier and hotter and it feels like I’m on fire, being smothered.
And then wet, putrid liquid laps across my face.
I fight against it, cursing and shoving at the feeling.
“Ford?” The voice of an angel lifts me from the agony of everything holding me under. I open my eyes to see Katy staring down at me, tugging at a familiar red collar.
Big floppy ass tongue hanging and drooling from its mouth—check.
Ugly as a mule—check.
Taking over my life—check.
Me not dead but just having some kind of epic nightmare where everything turns to utter shit— double check.
But he’s here. Warrior is here and Katy isn’t packing her things and leaving me for losing our furbaby (her words, not mine). And I’m elated. Elated, but also a strange mix of disturbed, because I should feel happy about it all being a bad dream, yet I also feel like I still failed. Because I would have done all of those things. I would have let my family down by putting my own needs first and not putting in more effort with our dog. And sure, whatever, you can say it’s a dog, but look, as much as I’d like to shrug my damn shoulders at the notion of this guy being our family member, the truth is that he is exactly that. I also know some of you are rolling your eyes, yeah you, I see you doing it, because to you it is that obvious.
Of course he’s family— four paws and shitty breath doesn’t diminish that, but I’ve never really loved something before Katy, much less had it love me back in such an epic, unconditionally sort of way. It’s new and terrifying and I run from the things that stir this shit up inside of me.
But love is also finding the strength and bravery to stay even though you risk getting hurt, because the reward of love is greater than your ego.
Five
Ford
It’s a beautiful day here in Central Park, and I get to do the one thing I love more than anything. Watch Katy bend her body, stretching into different poses, breathing in the fresh, well New York City fresh air all around her. She’s mesmerizing. Truth is, if it makes Katy happy I’ll stand here all day long pushing the stroller back and forth and back annnnd forth to keep our latest member of the gang sleeping peacefully so she can get her Yoga on.
Women are nuts in the best way possible . . . I think that’s what I’m trying to say.
Look at Katy. Just three months ago she couldn’t get up from the bed on her own because she had a sack of potatoes in her stomach weighing her down. Now she’s touching her toes with her ass in the air. Excuse me while I ignore you for a moment. My wife is super flexible. Holy shit.
Back to my point . . .
Women are insane superheroes. There really is no difference between the comic books and real life. In fact, the comic book characters might even need to take some pointers from non-fictional women because I have never seen Superwoman run an art gallery, host events that raise all kinds of money for her charities and also grow a human being inside of her.
And there she is just laughing and looking like a ray of sunshine while helping her fellow moms have a good time doing some Yoga.
I’m about to pull my phone from my pocket so I can capture this moment but I’ve learned something else too since becoming a dad. Little people like to interrupt those moments with really loud noises.
Katy runs over to see what the problem is, but I already have Rosey in my arms before she can ask what’s wrong.
“Do you want me to take her?” she asks, panting slightly.
I smile. “No, I’ve got her. You go back to Yoga class. They’re waiting for you.”
“Are you sure?” she says.
I soothe her by rubbing my hand in small circles on Rosey’s tiny back.
“She’s already back to sleeping. See?”
I turn slightly and Katy smiles, placing a small kiss on her wrinkled baby fingers. “Sorry, I swear I’m not doubting you—it’s just—”
I tisk her. “None of that. You’re a kickass mother. Go. Be one with Yoga. We’ve got this.”
She smiles. “I know you do, Ford.”
While she’s balancing and working on her flexibility, I decide to go for a stroll with Rosey through the park. She stirs on my shoulder and makes all kinds of cute ass sounds that instantly remind me how tight this kid has me wrapped around her finger and she isn’t even able to talk yet.
She makes the happiest little cooing sounds when we get near the water with the ducks so that’s where we sit under the warmth of the sun. I point out to her all the colors and trees and names of shit because I don’t really know what to do with a baby this young, or even really what she gets out of all this, but it just feels like the right thing to do. Plus, she’s cooing, not crying, so I must be on the right track.
I put Rosey on my lap and let her wiggle around, looking up at the clouds as they move quickly overhead. This seems to make her extremely happy and I can’t stop myself from laughing and smiling like an idiot. She’s all wide-eyed and chubby cheeked and just so beyond perfect. And somehow I helped create this little piece of perfection even though I’m mostly just fucked up and stupid like most adults. Maybe she’ll make me better. Maybe this is how you truly grow up.
After an hour, I make my way with her back to the square where Katy was hosting her class. To my surprise, everyone’s gone. Even Katy.
I check my cell, nothing.
Not like her.
I text a simple ‘where are you’? But she doesn’t reply.
Something stirs in my stomach leaving me feeling uneasy. Rosey and I rope back around the park for a few minutes and then walk the route back to our building. That’s when I spot her. She’s sitting outside our old favorite cafe where we’d frequent for breakfast and coffee. And Katy just sits at one of the wrought iron tables outside staring off with a paper cup wrapped in her hands. It feels like being stabbed in the chest.
What the hell is she doing?
I walk over to where she is and she startles, as if I’ve caught her doing something wrong. Or that...she is ashamed of? Fuck.
“I texted you,” I begin slowly, taking a seat. “Are you ok?”
“Of course I am.”
“So, what’s up then?”
“Nothing is up,” she huffs out, gripping her cup harder. “I’m just sitting here, Ford.”
“Ignoring my text. And you dis
appeared after class.”
“I’m having coffee literally on the same street we live on. That is hardly disappearing.”
“Ok.”
“Ok,” she repeats, only snarkier than me.
“Did I fuck up? Are you mad at me or something?”
“You?” she laughs. “No, you’re perfect. You’re . . . you are perfect.”
“You gotta help me out here, Katy.”
“I . . .” She stares off, not finishing for a moment. “I don’t know how to be a mom.”
I laugh. Not a good thing. Not by how her eyes look at me in a way that should light me on fire. “You’re an amazing mother.”
“I want to go back to work.”
“That doesn’t make you a bad mom, love.”
“Rosey is so little though? Shouldn’t I want to stay home?”
“Sometimes, absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
“I’m scared, Ford.”
“No. You’re a lioness.”
She scoffs. “I’m a coward.”
“Katy, I was afraid to have a dog last year. This year I’m holding our child. And loving it. It’s normal.”
“Why are you so good at it? Why can’t I be like that?”
I grin. “Because you’re a lioness, like I said.”
“Stop saying it, please. Lions all over the world will be insulted.”
“You’re a hunter. The mother lion. It’s who they are. It’s who you are.”
“And what does that make you?”
“King of the Concrete Jungle. Obviously.”
She laughs. “Of course. A king.”
“Well it sounds better than saying the guy who sits on the couch listening to Baby Shark for ninety percent of the day.”
She laughs harder. “That’s true.”
“Hey, now.”
Katy warms, reaching for my hand. “It all just seems to come so easily to you. And she’s always more content when you’re holding her or feeding her or . . . anything really. I think I’m a little jealous. Possibly even intimidated. I just didn’t expect this is how it would be.”
“She’s like her mom. She can’t resist my charms.”
“Possibly.” She grins.
“Also, I honestly have zero idea what the hell I’m doing but after a year of chasing around a drooling Godzilla dog I think it’s forced me to get over all my fears. The major ones anyhow.”
“What are you afraid of?” she asks.
“Mostly the teen years. Killing boys who will want to date her. Killing boys who will look at her. Killing boys for, you know, existing, pretty much.”
“So you’re the protector.”
“I told you I’m the King of the Concrete Jungle. It’s what male lions do.”
“So, I hunt and gather?”
“You give us everything we need to live, Katy.”
I kiss her forehead.
“I guess it sounds a little better when you put it that way.”
I grip the stroller and stand, waiting for Katy to grab her coffee. Male laughter comes from behind me and I look casually over my shoulder to see a few guys I know from work.
“So this is what Ford does nowadays, huh?” One of them claps me on the back as if we were ever cool like that.
“I’m a dad. So yeah, if that’s what you mean.”
He ducks his head to see a sleeping Rosey in her stroller.
“Cute kid. Thank God she looks like your wife.” They chuckle and wave as they continue on.
Katy looks at me funny, but I just shrug it off.
“This is why there is only one male per pride. Lions understand not everyone is meant to be king.”
I think I officially know what it feels like to have a heart attack. Or panic attack. I feel attacked on some level, ok? And fuck, I’m going ten blocks up to eat dinner and then my wife. These were the things I’d look forward to in life prior to having a baby. Tonight I think I’m going to die before we even leave the house. But, I promised Katy a night out, no baby, just us, two adults who can fuck and have a convo without poop diapers and ear-piercing crying to interrupt.
And I am a man of my word—the guy that makes shit happen.
“There’s a list on the fridge.”
“Got it, Ford.”
“And another one I emailed and texted to you.”
“I read both of those, too.”
“You know my number. And the address to the place is also in the email. And text.”
“I know.”
“She likes her pacifier only at bedtime. The one with the yellow flowers. Not the green one. I fucked up when I bought that one because we couldn’t find the flower one so it was like at two in the morning. Walgreens praying to Jesus type of purchase.”
“Flowers. Got it.”
“If you need us for anything, literally anything at all, we will come right back. It’s only ten blocks away. I will Superman my way back over here. Understand?”
“Ford,” Lela sighs, “I have been taking care of Warrior for over a year now. Have I ever failed you once?”
“No, but this is like a baby. A baby with so many needs and cries, and poops. I just have never left her before. And the first time I left Warrior with someone it didn’t work out so great.”
“Listen, if Rosey starts crying I’ll just give her a few sips of wine, let her take a hit from my bong and put her back to bed. Unless she’s more of a Tequila shots kind of girl?”
“Excuse me?”
Lela chuckles, shoving my arm. “Dude, lighten up. I’m only kidding. If she cries you start making the woo-woo sound. It’s like an instant cry-stopper.”
“The what?”
“Like this . . .” Lele pouts her lips as if she’s gonna whistle but she only makes a low blowing sound, soft and deep.
“That’s gonna make her stop crying?”
She nods. “It works on every kid I’ve ever sat for.”
“What pediatrician has approved this method?”
I ready my cell, fully prepared to Google the shit out of this, but Katy steps into the room and suddenly there is no one, nothing else. She is dressed in a red tight little number with high heels, looking as hot as the very first night I met her, took her in the bathroom of that lame ass event we were at, up against the mirror with my cock buried deep inside her tight pussy as she begged for me to choke the shit out of her and fist her hair so she could come. Shit. I’m hard just thinking about it. I cross the room and take her into my arms, a little too rough and eager seeing as how our damn nanny is standing right behind us. But whatever. I can’t help it. This woman sets me on fire.
“Wow.” She breathes in, looking up at me once our lips part. “Who are you and where is my husband?”
“Oh he’s right the fuck here.” I pull her into me to prove just how ‘here’ I am.
Katy gasps a little and I press my lips into hers again. “Ford,” she sighs contently into my mouth.
I nip at her bottom lip and then move my mouth to her ear, whispering, “As soon as dinner is done I’m going to remind you who you belong to, Katy.”
“Mm,” she hums against me, her fingers curling the lapels of my dark suit jacket. “I’m going to hold you to that, Ford.”
I squeeze her ass. “You fucking better.”
“I think we should go right to our suite.”
It takes me fifteen seconds to deduce that I not only married a goddess in human form but also an angel of mercy.
“It goes this way.”
I flip it around and give it a good shove. Nothing.
“Quicker,” she groans. “Slide it in faster and pull it out right away, Ford.”
“I’m trying, baby.”
She kisses the tender part of my neck where she knows it drives me crazy. “Finicky fucker.”
I chuckle. “Patience, love.”
“I want you so badly.”
I kiss her back while I fuck around with the key to our suite. Red light. Fucking red light. No access. I swear to . . . ah,
green light. That’s it. Here we go.
I kick that fucking door wide open and swing Katy inside, kicking that motherfucker closed behind us.
It’s all a rush of mouths, clothes flying and clawing at each other, so fast and blurry that I hardly catch it all. All I see is her. This woman who brings life and breathes fire.
I pin her to the large framed window that exposes us to the street below from thirty floors up. I rip away her dress and run my fingers up her thighs until I reach the hem of her panties and shred them instantly. Katy pants into my mouth and I kiss her deeper, lifting her up onto my hips to free up my hands so I can rip away the top portion of her dress too, exposing her perfect tits to my mouth. I explore her skin with licks and nips of her heated skin, circling each sensitive nipple expertly before I give a hard suck and light slap, just like she loves. A little rough. A touch of tender. And a lot of love.
“Beg,” I whisper. “Maybe I’ll give it to you.”
She moans loudly. “Fuck me, please.”
“You want this cock?”
“Yes. A million times fuck yes.”
I grin. “Those words out of your mouth is an instant hard-on, love.”
I unbuckle and let my pants fall free, putting skin on skin but keep just enough away to not give in. Because I don’t trust myself to not just dive deep. I want her so badly it makes me ache.
“So fucking beautiful, Katy.”
“I love you.”
“Baby, mmm, I love you. Forever.”
She rolls her hips against me and begs silently this time which is even hotter. I love the feeling of her clit against the head of my dick. Her wet over mine.
It makes me weak in the knees.
I pull away from her mouth for a moment to look at her. And for a moment I can’t believe she’s mine. Her eyes search mine, smiling. That is the look. That is the fucking look I live for—that kind of happiness and eternal love that just emanates from her soul to the surface.
And then I sink into her.
