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Chapter 5

“Yeah, that looked rough,” the kid said. “Just blame Ugly. Everybody else does.”

Thom frowned, brushing at his burning finger, hoping the rusty metal hadn’t broken any skin. Wouldn’t that make the day perfect…a good run of tetanus or maybe even a solid case of necrotizing fasciitis. “Uh, sorry? Ugly what?”

“Not Ugly what, Ugly who,” the kid confirmed. Not that it was necessary, the dog’s reaction made the concept pretty clear. Inside the cage, it sat up, started whacking the bars with its enthusiastic tail, and a spit-covered tongue lolled out from what could only be described as a wide smile.

“Are you fuck—” Again Thom cut himself off, pinching his lips together. There was no sense bitching at a child. “You named your dog Ugly?”

The boy shrugged. “He doesn’t really have a name so much, because we’re not supposed to name them. My dad says it gets you too attached. But Dad calls him Ugly now. Probably since he’s been around so long. You wanna buy him?”