He looked from the man to the dog and then to me.
“You called someone on me?” he accused.
“No,” I said. “You called this on yourself.”
Frank’s jaw flexed, but he didn’t move. The dog barked again — one short, sharp blast — and that was enough.
He stood slowly, brushing off his jeans.
“This isn’t over,” he muttered, eyes cold.
“I know,” I said.
Frank glared at me as if he wanted to say more, then turned and walked away into the dark.
There was silence afterward.
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