Runaway Love by Nicole W. Lee

early-morning spot.  The ashes still gave off some warmth and that suited him fine.  He' was always pleased to see Lorenzo.  His tail said so.  However, he was remarkably unwilling to haul himself up from his warm spot to give Lorenzo a proper greeting. 
    This morning, he and all forms of greetings were conspicuous by their absence.
    “Domino,” Lorenzo called. 
    No response.
    “Surely he's not outside.” 
    He found his canine companion in the entrance hall, prone, staring at the front door. 
    “Che successo?”  Bending down to pat Domino's ample chest, Lorenzo peered at the door as though it would give him some clue as to what was on the other side.  “Heard the wolves, did you?  They're too far away, ragazzo.  There's no danger.”
    Domino snuffled and maintained his vigil.
    “You don't trust me, do you?” he said, reaching the latch and easing open the door. “Move back, boy,”
    Domino obeyed only when the door was about to hit him on the nose.   He grunted and snuffled, rose to his feet, and slowly backtracked.  
    Lorenzo opened the door only sufficiently wide to enable him to peer through and scan the yard and the fence.  Domino joined him, pushing his nose through and trying to widen the crack by rocking his head from side to side.
    “See?  Nothing.” The muted clucking of the chickens in the barn underlined the truth of his observation.
    He forced Domino back and closed the door.  “C'mon, let's get breakfast.”
    Domino resumed his position in front of the door.
    “Please yourself,” Lorenzo said and headed for the kitchen, thoughts of a piping hot espresso warming up his mind. 

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Fourteen
     
     
    The crisp, cold air took advantage of Genie's immobility.  She felt the icy air eating its way through her clothing and attacking her skin.
    “I'll be a block of ice if I don't get a move on,” she stuttered through teeth that sounded like they were sending out Morse Code.
    Should she move?  Were wolves attracted to moving targets or still ones?   Moving targets were more likely.
    Or was that sharks?  
    The thought of sharks stimulated the disturbing question of other predators that might be circling her; sizing her up.  She'd heard something about bears.  No.  Bears are okay.  Bears hibernate in winter.
    “Unless those darned wolves woke them up.” 
    She squinted and peered into the blackness of the forest.  Nothing appeared to be moving in there.  Maybe they were tensed, ready to pounce, deciding which bit to eat first.  
    Genie's hackles hadn't had this much exercise since she saw her first horror movie - something about zombies - when she was thirteen.  She'd sneaked off with Josie, her childhood friend, each telling their parents that they were out playing with the other and, instead, went to the movies.  It had been a dare - each betting the other that they wouldn't be scared. 
    They didn't talk about the bet afterwards - or the zombies.
    In fact, she couldn't remember them talking at all.
    She'd slept with the light on that night.
    Now, her hackles were on a different mission.  They were telling her to go back.  It was safe behind Lorenzo's fence. 
    Oh yeah - and how safe would Lorenzo be?
    Wasn't he another kind of wolf in waiting?
    Wolves or no wolves - and whatever else might be lurking about in the forest - she had to move on.  
    She focused attention on her ears to offer up one last intense listen.  
    Silence.  
    Perhaps the wolves had given up on her. 
    On the other hand, they might be silently stalking her.   When the time was right, they'd jump out and bark “Surprise!  Surprise!”
    Genie cracked her frozen lips with a smile.  “Nothing like a bit of humour - and whistling - when you're scared,” she said.  She took a deep, shuddering breath.  “Now move, Hamilton.  You can't stay here forever.”
    After a final furtive look around, and breathing a tuneless whistle, she pushed her left foot