Page 181 of The Pucking Wrong Man

“Get them off me! Get them off!” he shrieked, trying to shake the dogs off, but they held firm, biting chunks off as they tried to get to the steak blood.

Fluffy let go of his arm, and a second later, Michael’s high-pitched screams filled the air as Fluffy bit into his dick. Michael’s screams turned into sobs under the relentless attack.

He had always been the predator, but now, he was nothing more than prey.

For good measure, Darcy, Geraldine’s Saint Bernard, came bounding out through the fence too—-it hadn’t surprised me that Geraldine had even more feral, meat-addicted dogs as pets. Darcy lunged forward, her jaws outstretched, and a second later, Michael’s nose had disappeared.

I watched, a grim satisfaction settling over me as I watched the carnage.

Anastasia’s hand slid into mine. She was pale and shaking, her fear of the dogs very present, but her eyes were glimmering as she watched the nightmare that had haunted her for so long, get torn to shreds.

“That’s probably enough,” she murmured when he passed out from blood loss. I was pretty sure the lump on the ground was part of his tongue. It would seem the dogs had gotten a little aggressive.

"Probably," I said after Midas took another bite out of Michael’s dick.

Geraldine appeared in the entrance then, carrying a jar of peanut butter. She stared at Michael’s limp body on the dirty ground, a small smile on her face...which was a little scary. “What good little puppies,” she cooed. “Let’s go take a bath, darlings.” She leaned over and whistled sharply, holding out the jar, and the dogs immediately leapt from Michael to get their treat.

Blood and peanut butter...quite the diet.

“Got the cages,” Ari huffed as he and Lincoln appeared behind Geraldine, lugging three enormous crates.

“You’re a good boy,” Geraldine told Ari, patting his face before she lured the dogs into the crates with the peanut butter.

Ari was glowing, literally preening under her praise.

“A little help, Lancaster,” Lincoln grunted as he lifted one of the huge crates. Midas whined, and Lincoln eyed him carefully, like he was going to escape from the cage and decide to attack.

Anastasia was still frozen, staring at Michael and his blood pooling on the ground.

Her lips twitched, and then she started to giggle. At first, it was soft, almost a whisper of laughter, but it quickly grew louder, hysterical, her eyes wild and unfocused. The giggles turned into sobs, wracking her body with the force of her emotions. She began to collapse, and I grabbed her, pulling her into my arms. I didn’t want the dirt and grime of this alley to even touch my baby girl.

“Is it really over, Camden?” she choked out between sobs. “Or is this just a dream? I need to know he can’t come after me anymore.”

I held her tightly, feeling her tears soak through my shirt. “It’s over, baby girl,” I whispered, my voice as steady and reassuring as I could make it. “He won’t hurt you anymore.”

Her sobs quieted a bit, but she clung to me still. I stroked her hair, whispering soothing words, trying to anchor her in the present, away from the horrors of the past.

“My guy’s coming for cleanup.” Lincoln locked eyes with me, giving me a chin nod that was almost as good as a “good boy” coming from him. “He’ll take care of any cameras, and he’ll make sure some junkyard dogs are found with some of his scraps and blood,” he said, gesturing toward Michael. “Fluffy and Midas will be blame-free,” he grinned. “He also wiped that asshole’s computer and phone—he hadn’t made any other copies of the pictures. They’re all gone.”

Anastasia reared her head back and gasped. “Really?” she whispered, her eyes filling with more tears. My poor baby girl. Those pictures had been haunting her for years—of course I was going to make sure they were destroyed.

She snuggled back into me, whispering a soft, “thank you.”

I gave Lincoln a thumbs up and he smirked.

I no longer wanted to know how Daniels had so many guys…or what he needed them for.

But I was pretty sure that I was now in the circle of trust.

“Do you think Michael will say anything?” Anastasia whispered to me as Ari, Lincoln, and Geraldine disappeared around the corner…

I glanced over at Michael’s body disinterestedly. “I think he’s missing most of his tongue...and fingers. So no.”

She pulled back slightly, her tear-streaked face searching mine for any sign of doubt. “Are you sure? What if he finds a way?”

I cupped her face in my hands, looking directly into her eyes. “He won’t. He can’t. Trust me, Anastasia, it’s over.”

She nodded slowly, the tension in her body starting to ease. I could see the relief in her eyes, but also the exhaustion.

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