Page 2 of His Captive Pet

“Well, not today.” She smiled.

The ice clinked against the side of the glass as she swirled the soda.

A loud crash drew her attention to the center of the bar where several of the kids were screwing around and shoving each other. She grunted. Boys would always be boys.

She heard Greg call out to them to knock it off as she finished off her drink.

Blake took the empty glass and filled it up again.

After taking a sip, she scrunched up her face. “You forgot the rum.”

“No, I didn’t.” He shook his head, picked up the rum bottle, and put it away on the shelf. “You can’t drown out everything with liquor. It’s not like you.”

His tone didn’t suggest she argue, but she’d lost most of her reasoning skills two drinks ago.

“I’m not drowning out anything. I’m celebrating. Finally, some justice.” She wiggled her glass again, but he continued to shake his head.

When instead of picking up the rum bottle, he continued to stare her down with disapproval, she scoffed and slammed the glass down, spilling some of the soda over the sides.

“You aren’t going to tell me I have to forgive him, are you?” she asked. Because that would never happen. Ever.

He handed her a towel and motioned for her to wipe up her spill.

“It’s not him I think you need to work on forgiving.”

Another yell went up from the group of frat boys and a chair toppled over.

“Did you go into work today or just the hearing?”

She worked on wiping the little puddle of pop up and shook her head. “I didn’t go to the hearing.” She handed him back the towel and smiled wide. “But I saved two dogs today, so that was a huge win.”

“Oh, emergencies?” A lot of dogs were brought into the clinic that had been hurt at home or strays that had been hit by a car, but today had been different. Today, she’d had a complete victory.

“Not really. They were in a dog fight this afternoon, but I got them out and back to the clinic. Not too much damage. I was able to patch them up, and they’ll be able to find homes once we test their temperament.”

Blake leaned across the bar with narrowed eyes. With a set jaw and dark expression, she probably should have been warned he wasn’t going to be patting her on the back.

“You went to a dog fight?”

Another yell, more crashing, and an uproar of the crowd drew his attention. “Stay here,” he said and went off to the brewing fight.

Aubree turned on her stool to watch the group of friends and noticed how heavy her body felt. Shrugging it off, she slid from her seat and kept her eye on two of the guys. They weren’t sporting the same playful grins as their friends. Their eyebrows were drawn together and each had a snarl on their lips, definitely a heated discussion. Curious, she took a few steps toward them and jumped in surprise when they erupted into an all-out fight.

Fists flew, along with a few chairs. One couple jumped up from their table just as the larger of the two men threw his combatant on top of it. The others in their group cheered them on as they forged a circle around the two, encouraging them.

“Idiots!” she yelled, and took a few steps toward the crowd. The room spun on an uneven axis, but she continued on her path. A large man brushed past her just as several other fights broke out. Apparently, there were two sides to whatever their issue was and their friends all began to take one. She barely missed an elbow to her face and took a step back.

A woman who was dwarfed in comparison to the men brawling tried to get out of the fray, but kept getting blocked or squeezed between bodies. Aubree tried to get to her, shoving people out of her way as she made little ground.

A bottle broke on the floor near her, and she tried to sidestep it, taking a fist to her jaw.

She blinked and looked at the man responsible for the punch. He merely shrugged off his error and turned to reenter the larger fight. Just as he turned, a fist met his nose square on, and he slunk to the floor. Aubree watched him and slowly looked up at the deepest set of blue eyes she’d ever seen glaring at her. How had she missed how dark blue they were before?

“Blake.” She nodded in thanks, thinking to return to her rescue mission.

“Get back.” Blake motioned for her to move. Her feet wouldn’t move, and her legs seemed to feel the same on the subject. She stayed put. The rum had numbed her just enough that the punch she’d taken hadn’t sunk in yet. “Aubree. Go!” He pointed toward the corner, where she had been sitting.

First he wouldn’t give her any more rum, and now he thought he could tell her where to go? Well, she wasn’t having it.

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