Page 8 of His Captive Pet

When he pulled away and stared down at her, she felt as drunk as she’d been the previous night. “Go get ready. I’ll hang with Samuel then drive you to work.”

Her heart thudded so hard against her ribcage she was sure it would crack.

“You’re just going to work, right? At the clinic, nowhere else?”

Fuck. Why’d he have to phrase it that way?

“Of course.” Had her voice cracked? It had sounded like it cracked, but he didn’t seem to notice. Maybe it hadn’t.

“I meant what I said about those fights, Aubree.” His grip tightened. Seriousness settled between them.

“We don’t need to talk about that right now.” She pulled free of his grasp and slid away from him, heading out of the kitchen before he could grab for her again. “I’m just gonna jump in the shower. Be ready in twenty minutes.”

Hopefully with a stiffer spine.

Chapter Four

Aubree fought off the sick feeling in her stomach after Blake pulled away from the clinic, and she began walking down the street. She hated lying, and really hated lying to him. For the past several months she tried to keep him out of her thoughts, knowing they would never be compatible. But after last night, with the way he just took charge and made sure she was safe, keeping him out of her head would be an impossibility.

For most girls, being threatened with a strapping for being disobedient would be a huge red flag and make them hightail their asses out of there. Not her. Though there were times she wished it was different. How much heartbreak could she take if he turned out to be just another guy who talked the talk but couldn’t put one foot in the right direction to walk the walk?

Blake didn’t give that impression.

She checked her text from Luis to confirm the fight hadn’t changed location last minute. The Pecadores moved the fights if they had any thought the cops were on to it.

Aubree picked up her pace. If she could get there in time, she might be able to save a few of the dogs before the fight, but Blake’s insistence on driving her had delayed her half an hour. The bus would take too long, and the cabs rarely made their way down the street by the clinic. She would have to run to get there in time.

The warehouse where the fight was to take place looked quiet. At first glance, you’d never know it was a murder house. Several men walked into the building, but none with a dog, just spectators who liked to bet on the animals. Her stomach twisted with rage at what would happen, and panic set in with the realization she wouldn’t get to them in time.

Two large, angry-looking men stood outside the side entrance to the building. Luis hadn’t warned her about them. Aubree saw Luis as a necessary evil. As the owner of several dogs to be fought, she found him disgusting, but being the owner, he acted as her only source of information. Luis fed her the information on the fight locations only because she promised to act as the vet on premise.

She’d already attended a few fights, and she’d been able to save a few dogs, but had also had to give the order to put down five others. Going home each of those nights had left her emotionally exhausted and physically ill. What Luis didn’t know was she had managed to get photographs and information on the other dog owners and would be passing it on to the police department once she had enough for them to actually take down the ring. She wasn’t foolish enough to think one or two pictures would get the Chicago PD off their asses to do something. Taking on a gang wasn’t easily done, and she needed to be sure the person she went to didn’t have his name on anyone else’s payroll.

How she would go about doing that, she had no idea. But she had time. She’d gather her intel then she’d make plans. In the meantime, she needed to lay low and not grab the attention of Jorge.

“Where you going, lady?” The heavily tattooed man stepped in front of her as she approached the door.

Putting on her best smile and arching her back just enough to push her breasts out more, she said, “I am going in there. Luis called me. One of the dogs needs a patch.” She turned a bit to show him the small medical bag she had hung over her shoulder, as well as give him a little view of her ass. It had taken an extra few minutes, but she was glad she’d taken the time to change out of her scrubs and into the V-neck tank top and short jean shorts. His eyes didn’t hesitate to eat up the buffet before him.

“Luis?” Sweat dripped down the side of his face. “Okay, sure.” He stepped aside and nodded to his partner who opened the rusty metal door. “He’s in the pit already.”

“Thanks!” She waved at them with her fingers before disappearing into the warehouse.

The smell of urine and blood overwhelmed her with her first breath. Faint whimpers echoed inside the empty building between the loud laughter and jaunts of the crowds. Short of a few pallets of boxes scattered throughout the room, it appeared to be abandoned. The upper level offices circled the floor, and along the railings stood the spectators. A ring had been hastily put together with leftover pallet boards and boxes where two dogs currently were going at it. The growls and yelps bounced off the cemented walls, while the jackasses upstairs went wild over the show.

She could never sort it out in her mind why anyone would find such a display entertaining. It took everything in her to remain focused and not run into the ring to break up the dogs, and try to save the losing pup. She hadn’t made it in time to save those two, but there was still a possibility of getting at least two or three dogs out before it was their time to fight.

“Hey, Doc!” Luis ran up to her. Splattered blood already covered his arm. She tried to hide her dismay at the sight, but he caught her glimpse. “Yeah, Courtney just didn’t have the hunger today.” He shrugged. Shrugged! As if he’d told her it was gonna rain all afternoon! Again, she swallowed her anger.

“Ah, too bad.” She forced herself to sound only mildly upset at the loss. If Luis knew her true feelings on his business, he’d have her thrown out, or worse. “Can I take a look at the survivors?” She nodded toward the pit.

The pit was basically a holding cell for the dogs. They kept the dogs chained to metal spikes sticking out of cement blocks. Transportable tethers, Luis called them. In order to keep the dogs from fighting before it was their time, they were separated just enough to keep them out of reach of the others. It also helped their chains were kept short as hell.

“Sure, go ahead. I have to take care of some bookkeeping.” He wiggled his eyebrows and headed toward the stairs.

“You miserable fuck,” she muttered after he walked away.

She recognized several of the dogs from the previous fights she’d attended, and her heart broke a little more at the damage they’d sustained already. The source of the whimpering huddled in the far corner. A caramel-colored pit bull curled in a ball whimpering and breathing frantically. His right ear was torn, and she could see a nasty gash on his neck that needed more than just a few stitches. Deciding she’d ask Luis if she could take him to the clinic and return him later, she moved on to the next dog.

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