A Deal With Stray Dogs

Grant lets the silence sit for a few seconds. The Explorer’s engine ticks as it cools. Jaycee’s muffled breathing is still audible from the back seat. Kyle’s cigarette glows orange in the afternoon light.

Mary’s rifle hasn’t lowered. Olivia’s pistol is still trained on the driver’s door. Jaz has shifted so that her body is half in front of Grant without quite blocking his view. Eve’s hand rests on the grip of her own weapon. The rest of the claimed women have closed ranks; the three unclaimed girls are pressed into the center of the group like they might disappear if they stay still enough.

Grant can feel the hunger coming off the three young men. Not just for the women. For the guns. For the organization. For the simple fact that Grant already has what they have been failing to take all day.

He makes a decision.

“Kyle.” Grant’s voice is even. “You claimed her first. That makes her yours. I’m not going to take her from you.”

Kyle’s thin smile flickers. He flicks ash onto the pavement.

“But you’re sharing her like she’s a party favor,” Grant continues. “That’s your business. What is my business is that you just tried to run my people over so you could snatch stragglers. That part I don’t like.”

Jose snorts. “Man, we said we were sorry.”

“I heard you.” Grant takes one more step forward. Several of his women move with him automatically. “Here’s how this is going to work if you want to keep breathing and maybe eat something that isn’t gas-station chips tonight.”

He ticks the points off on his fingers.

“One. You follow us back to my building. You park in the lot, you stay in the car until I tell you otherwise. Two. You don’t touch any woman who belongs to me. Not a hand. Not a look that lasts too long. Zoya, Magdalena, Mary, Jaz, Eve, Olivia — none of them. You even think about it and Mary here will put a round through your windshield. Three. You want to keep Jaycee, fine. You treat her like she’s claimed, not like she’s a blow-up doll you found in a dumpster. If I decide she’s useful later, we’ll talk. Four. You do what I say when we get there. I need extra hands and I need a vehicle that isn’t walking. You give me those things, you get a roof, food, and a shot at more women later — my way, not your smash-and-grab way.”

Kyle studies him. The cigarette has burned down to the filter. He drops it and grinds it under his heel.

“And if we say no?”

Grant doesn’t blink. “Then you drive away right now and we never see each other again. Or Mary starts shooting. Those are the options.”

Mary’s voice is flat. “I’d prefer the second one.”

Kyle looks at Jose, then at Garret, who still hasn’t spoken. Garret just shrugs and spits.

“Fine,” Kyle says. “We’ll follow. But if this is some trap—”

“It’s not a trap,” Grant cuts him off. “It’s an offer. You three look like you’ve been surviving on luck and one tired girl. Luck runs out. I’m offering you a better position than ‘the guys who almost hit a pack of armed women with a Ford.’”

He turns his head slightly. “Jaz. Eve. Keep them in front of us but not too close. Mary, Olivia — if they swerve, you know what to do.”

Jaz gives a short nod. “Got it.”

Kyle jerks his chin at Jose. “Get her sitting up. We’re moving.”

Jose reaches into the back, unties Jaycee’s wrists just enough for her to push herself upright, and pulls the gag down. She coughs, spit-slick, and immediately looks at Kyle like she’s waiting for the next instruction. Her eyes flick once toward Grant, then away.

“Stay in the car,” Kyle tells her. “Don’t say shit.”

“Yes, Kyle.” Her voice is hoarse.

The three men climb back in. The Explorer’s engine turns over with a rattle. Jaz and Eve take point again, walking just far enough ahead that they can watch both the street and the vehicle. The rest of the group reforms around Grant. The unclaimed women stay in the middle.

As they start walking, Mary falls in at Grant’s left shoulder.

“I don’t like this,” she murmurs.

“I know.”

“They’re going to try something. Maybe not today. Tomorrow. The day after.”

Grant keeps his eyes on the Explorer’s taillights. “Probably. That’s why they’re sleeping in the car tonight and why you’re on first watch. I need the wheels and I need to see if they can take orders. If they can’t, we cut them loose. Or we cut them down. Either way I want it on my terms, not in the middle of an intersection.”

Mary is quiet for a few steps. Then she says, “You’re thinking like a boss now.”

Grant almost smiles. “Somebody has to.”

They cover the last few blocks without another incident. The apartment building comes into view — still standing, still quiet, the same place Grant left this morning when the world was only half-broken. The Explorer rolls into the lot and stops exactly where Grant pointed.

Kyle gets out first, hands visible. Jose and Garret follow. Jaycee stays in the back seat, watching through the window.

Grant stops at the edge of the lot and looks at the three of them.

“Last chance to drive away,” he says.

Kyle glances at the building, at the cluster of armed women, at Jaycee in the car, then back at Grant.

“We’ll stay,” he says. “For now.”

Grant nods once.

“Then welcome to the new world, gentlemen. Don’t make me regret it.”

He turns toward the entrance. Jaz is already holding the door. Behind him he hears the Explorer’s doors close again and the sound of three young men realizing they just signed up for something they don’t fully understand.

Mary stays at his shoulder the whole way inside.

“You actually going to let them keep her?” she asks quietly.

Grant doesn’t answer right away. He’s thinking about the look Jaycee gave him when the gag came down. He’s thinking about how useful a fourth man with a car could be. He’s thinking about how fast “useful” can turn into “problem.”

“We’ll see,” he says at last. “First we get everyone upstairs, we lock the doors, and we figure out who sleeps where. Then we talk about Jaycee.”

The stairwell smells like dust and old cooking oil. The claimed women file in behind him in practiced silence. The unclaimed girls stay close, still not quite believing they’re walking into safety instead of another claiming.

Grant reaches the landing and looks back one more time. Through the glass of the front door he can see Kyle leaning against the Explorer, lighting another cigarette, watching the building like he’s already calculating the angles.

Grant files that look away for later.

Trouble didn’t end in the intersection. It just followed them home.