บท 31: Chapter 31

The thought of Ross lying there in a pool of blood made him want to run back into the bathroom and throw up, even more than the memory of that bone sticking up out of Ross’ hairy leg.

Porthos stuck his head onto Ash’s thigh, and Ash scratched him behind his ears. “You ready to go out, buddy? Let’s do that.” He grabbed Porthos’ purely decorative leash and a coat from the little table near the door. This wasn’t so bad, and once he got back to work tomorrow it would be better. He’d be too busy to think about things like what he used to do, or collapsing houses, or poor Ross and his broken leg.

Porthos wasn’t inclined to stay outside in the snow any more than Ash was, at this point. They’d both become hothouse plants. At least Ash had the chance to get used to Boston, all those years ago. Poor Porthos came from freaking Syria. They didn’t get nor’easters in Syria. Three or more feet of snow in one night wasn’t a thing over there, unless you got deep into the mountains maybe.