Page 78 of Three of a Kind

“Have some respect for the position you find yourself in.” He finally releases me.

“I won’t stand for someone touching what’s mine.” My head rolls around until I can stare him in the eyes.

Damn, I think I am, anyway.

It’s hard to tell with how blurry he is.

I still give him a shit-eating grin.

The metallic taste of blood hits my tastebuds.

I’m sure my teeth are nice and bloody, but I smile like a feral alpha.

If he’s looking for my fear, he won’t find an ounce of it.

“I claimed Brooklyn and Liberty. They’re mine now. The best thing you can do is release me. I’ll grab them, and we’ll disappear. Do you really want to murder your niece? Are you that far gone, Dustin?” My head tilts as I study the frown on his face.

“I don’t want to be involved in any of this,” he growls, jabbing a finger at my chest. “But someone is feeding information to the enemy, and it’s not fucking me!”

My jaw drops.

There’s definitely dissension in the Barrett household.

“It’s not Brooklyn. She barely has contact with Avan. She’s also essentially oblivious to the reality of what your family is,” I say, trying to reason with him.

“Well, it’s fucking someone,” he snarls, and spit flies at my face.

“Boss?” a voice calls from outside the room. “You’ve got a call, and it sounds urgent.”

Dustin curses under his breath, swiping a hand over his face. “I don’t understand anything that’s happening.”

I frown as he stomps out, slamming the door behind him.

I’m not sure why I believe him, but I guess I do.

I’d say someone is setting him up to take the fall big time.

Too bad I just don’t give a fuck. He’s far from innocent. He deserves whatever he gets.

My head rolls back as agony pulses in my skull.

“Jesus Christ, you tubby ass. You’re going on a diet,” an unfamiliar voice hisses from my right side.

I’m pretty sure I passed out, but my head tilts as far as I can twist it.

There’s a massive dog being lowered to the ground by two ropes connected to its harness.

Once the beast is on the ground, one side of the rope is dropped and pulled back up. The dog trots around, sniffing the door and running back to my side as the process repeats.

“You’re supposed to be a dainty lady canine,” the same voice mutters. “We’re all laying off the treats. You weigh more than Haze.”

The dog grunts, looking so indignant that I would laugh if I wasn’t concerned that all of this is a hallucination.

The second dog hits its feet, and the process is repeated with pulling up the rope.

“Guard,” a different voice growls.

I blink as both animals pace the room, sniffing and examining everything. Once they’re done, they come to either side of the chair and simply lie down.

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