eyes, though. Her paws and tail twitched every so often. Urban knew she’d be happy on the road again, at least. She was always happy when she ran. She probably wouldn’t enjoy the bus ride to Battery, though.
His clothes were already packed, sitting in the hall in a duffle bag. Finishing up with the food, he dumped the rest in a trash bag and tied the mouth in a knot. He set it outside the back door and plopped the bag full of goodies beside his clothing.
Then he meandered slowly over to the shelf on the wall over the TV. Little snake charms hung from a silver cord, along with several carved ivory knickknacks. His eyes slid to the two photographs, his mother’s face behind a sheet of glass and his daughter’s bright smile. He picked up the picture of Annabelle—the little girl he hadn’t seen since she was a baby—and frowned. He should tell Cinthi where he was headed.
He stashed the pictures in his clothes bag, then hauled both bag straps over his shoulders. Key in hand, he jingled it, casting one final look around the apartment with mixed feelings. In one hand, it was the place he’d come to know as home. On the other hand, it was just a place he stayed between jobs. Home was where the heart was, after all, and as long as he had Pannie at his side, he was home. At least that’s what he told himself as he locked the door behind him, Pandora skirting ahead with a joyous yip. He found the landlady’s office and the bell chimed as he opened the door.
Margarette Shady was four-seven with a frame that couldn’t have been more than eighty pounds soaking wet. She had bluing silver hair, but Urban knew not to let that fool him—her eyes and mind were sharp. She peered out from behind round glasses as he slid the key and an envelope of money towards her. “I was just about to close. You leaving?”
“Yeah. I may be back. May not. I dunno, it’s up in the air.”
“Hell, Urban. I’ll have to rent out your place. Can’t keep it open an undetermined amount of time, you know that.”
“I know. It’s fine. If I come back, just hook me up with another one.” He shrugged. As the old lady frowned, he grinned at her. “I have to follow this lead. Don’t look so worried.”
“I know better than to worry about your scaly ass,” she muttered, looking put off. Then she scurried around the desk to wrap him in a quick hug. She truly was an old softie. “But be careful, nonetheless. I’ll see what I can do about getting your old place back when you come back.” Her eyes narrowed and Urban smiled: End of discussion.
He gave a short wave and headed back outside. Pan looked at him, long pink tongue flopping out the side of her mouth as she wiggled her butt in a happy-joy dance. “Alright, alright. One more stop,” he said, hoisting the bags higher up on his shoulder.
He found the tiny house on the edge of town, right where he knew it had been. With chipped blue shutters and a sloping foundation, he couldn’t imagine calling this place home. As Cinthi opened the door, her blond hair piled atop her head in a messy half-bun, her eyes wide with surprise, he knew he couldn’t imagine calling this woman his wife.
“Urban.” Her voice was hard, tinged with hidden nerves.
“Hey. Just…wanted to let you know that I’m moving. Again. I guess I don’t know when I’ll be back around.”
“Okay. And?”
“You don’t have to be such a frigid bitch,” Urban muttered, crossing both arms over his chest. “Can’t I say a quick hello-goodbye to Annabelle? There aren’t any rules about that.”
She let air seep between her teeth in a way that made Pandora growl warningly. Cinthi shot the hound a glare that would’ve decimated lesser beings. “Urban, I’m trying to make Anna’s life as stable as possible. She doesn’t need a father who doesn’t stick around. She doesn’t need you. I don’t need you either.”
Urban ran a hand through his hair. “Just…let me say hello. God, Cinthi, I don’t know when
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