she carefully positioned herself, sitting with her back against the wall and facing the door, the gun ready in her right hand. With her left hand, she held Hank’s muzzle shut and shushed him with an imperceptible whisper. The closet muted the sound of the blizzard, but she could hear her heart beating so loudly, she was afraid Gregory could hear it, too. She fought to slow her breathing. Hank rumbled low in his throat, his hackles raised.

“Shush,” she breathed against his furry ear. “No, no, no, honey, please shhh.”

Their combined body heat soon made the tiny closet unbearable hot and Chelsea felt herself gasping for air. Her sweater was too warm, but she didn’t dare let go of Hank’s muzzle to remove it. Besides, she would run the risk of bumping something and...

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