CHAPTER 41

She petted behind their ears, getting the softness of their luxurious, thick fur.

They were making cute, happy sounds, leaning against her with all their weight as if not close enough.

Pumpkin fell onto his side, paws folded under, begging for belly rubs, as Poochie nuzzled his cheek with his soft snout, seeking attention of his own.

"Furbabies? Her fluffy boys?" ISAAC growled.

She shot him an eyebrow. "He sounded jealous."

"How the devil had she already won them over in just a few days?" he snarled in a frustrated tone.

She tilted her head to one side, and her brow furrowed. "She was a very nice person if only he had paid attention."

"But why did they seem to have liked her better now than they liked him?" he exclaimed.

"Oh certainly, it's simply because she was absolutely marvelous, and they're marvelous judges of character," she said with a beaming smile at ISAAC.

"He was a fucking hitman, KYOLINE. He couldn't have dogs with goddamn names Pumpkin and Poochie!"

A crease marred her forehead. "Look, she just couldn't bring herself to tell the kids that they were named Serial and Killer, could she? The children would have been utterly terrified of them. And besides, it took only a couple of days and a few treats before these two became total softies."

L'OREAL ran over to them. "Did he like the names they gave his puppies, Mr. ISAAC?" Her big eyes stared up at him with a look of childlike innocence.

"They're, uh, the…best names he'd ever heard," he croaked.

And she couldn't help herself and flinging her arms around his neck and kissing him which shocked the hell out of him. "What was that for, KYOLINE?"

For being so kind to the children," she whispered smiling. "She really liked that.".

And even though he growled, she knew he was a little pleased at her words, and they were enough to remove the scowl from his lips for once. And she simply couldn't help but smile to herself. Because while she was not going to say it out loud, she was actually very happy that he was with them again.

KYOLIN

It was already late when DEBORAH told her she no longer had any tampons, and she checked in her bathroom but she didn't have any either. ISAAC was still working outdoors, so she requested one of his men, Dario, to drive her to the drugstore.

He pulled up in the parking lot next to the giant store. "She'd only be a minute or two," she told him. "Don't go with her." He hesitated a moment but nodded. "He'd wait out here. Just call him on his cell if she needed him." There was still Carmine to be concerned with, but he was greatly weakened now that she was betrothed to a different MIRO agent. Getting out of the black SUV, she looked up at the sign above her shivering slightly, humming as if it was tired of being on. She pulled her coat tight around her. The night air nipped at her cheeks more than she expected. Her heels clicked across the asphalt as she strode towards the automatic doors.

They swooshed open, and there was the smell of chemicals and artificial lemon.

The shop was almost empty at this time.

Her footsteps rang off the tiles, each step sounding too loudly.

She couldn't understand why but a shiver ran up her spine.

Her gaze swept around.

She took in what was in front of her.

A young clerk stood resting against the checkout counter near the front. He was staring at his phone. He barely looked up as she passed by.

And everything else seemed normal.

She hurried swiftly through the aisles and kept her head down.

But she wasn't sure which aisle tampons were kept in.

She entered an aisle near the center of the store and immediately felt exposed.

Shelves of merchandise ran along. Vitamins, cold medicines, boxes with smiling faces and fast cure-all assurances for headaches and allergies.

She made another turn and found the aisle that she had come for.

But something didn't quite feel right…

She didn't pause for more than a second before snatching a box. She didn't even look to see what brand it was. Her only goal was to snatch what she desired and return out to Dario as fast as possible.

Another sick feeling crept over her. A prickle on the nape of her neck. She was stuck, holding the box, and she glanced over her shoulder.

There was a man at the end of the aisle. He was slightly angled, as if he was studying the signs on the shelves. But he wasn't leaning in to grab something. He wasn't getting up and walking away. He was standing still…watching her. Her heart skipped its beat, and she shoved the box into her jacket pocket. She told herself to remain calm. Was he holding out for her to make a move so he could grab something himself? Was he, like she, buying something that he would want to keep to himself? Was she being paranoid…?