Page 17 of His Captive Pet

“Her house. It’s lit up. What the hell is going on?”

“Jorge Vazquez. Aubree got herself into some shit with him, trying to help the dogs in his fights. He thinks she tipped off the cops; there was a raid earlier.”

“Yeah, I saw that. No mention of her, though. You sure?”

Blake remembered Jorge’s expression when he saw Aubree in the lot outside the warehouse. “Yeah, positive. We’re out of the state. I’ll keep her tucked away until it’s safe.”

“Aubree’s not much of a hiding sort of person, Blake.” He heard the warning in Greg’s voice.

“She will be for now at least.”

A heavy sigh. “Okay.”

“The bar’s yours until I get back.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

“Just take care of it, okay?” Putting his brother on the front lines didn’t sit right, but the alternative would put Aubree in too much danger.

“I got it. You just take care of Aubree.”

Blake grunted and ended the call. Greg’s little crush on Aubree had been cute at first, but it was starting to annoy him. As brothers, they never fought over a girl before, there was no need. Blake being ten years older, the competition wasn’t hard. Now, though, grown men with similar tastes in women, it could come down to it. But Aubree wouldn’t survive Greg. As soft and sweet as he came off on the outside, darkness lingered beneath the surface. Once Greg found his comfort level, and the woman who complemented his style, it wasn’t going to take long for the beast within to emerge.

The phone vibrated, signaling Greg’s text. The link to the newscast he’d mentioned. Her place blazed on the screen. Fire trucks covered the street, but flames shot out of every window, the thick, black smoke billowed above. Neighbors stood on the sidewalks, watching, most likely praying the fire didn’t spread to their homes.

Aubree’s phone buzzed in his left back pocket and he took it out to check it. A link to the same news story, but not from Greg. The number wasn’t listed with a contact name.Another text immediately after.

You puta.

“Shit.”

He turned off the phone and slid both phones back into his pockets. They needed to get settled in one spot so he could get a hold of John and figure out the next step.

The door creaked behind him, and he spun around to find Aubree standing behind the screen door, looking out. Her chin raised an inch when she caught his gaze and he shook his head.

“You don’t listen very well, do you?” He grabbed the coil of hemp rope he’d placed on the railing and yanked open the screen door. “We’re leaving anyway. Let’s go.”

“I-I don’t want to go anywhere with you, Blake. Can’t I just stay here until whatever is going on back home blows over?”

“No. The cabin is fine for a day or two, but there isn’t a kitchen setup, no food or water here. And you aren’t staying anywhere alone while Los Pecadores are looking for you.”

She looked beyond him, down the path to where the truck was parked on the main road. The fool thought to run for the truck?

“I have the keys, Aubree, and I’d catch you within a few strides. The only thing running will accomplish is getting my belt across your ass before we leave. Now let’s go.” He reached in and grabbed a hold of her arm, pulling her out on the porch before shutting up the cabin.

“You brought me here just to punish me, isn’t that right?” She stumbled over a rock and he quickly helped her back up to her feet.

“Yes.” No sense in keeping the truth from her. She may still be upset with him, but a calmness had also taken over her body. She didn’t fight him on the way to the truck, not like before. “We have a short drive until we get to where we’ll be staying.” He opened the passenger door of the truck and hoisted her up before she could protest.

He grabbed her ankles and unraveled the rope, making quick work of binding them together.

“Seriously?” she asked with raised eyebrows.

“I could continue, bind your wrists down to your ankles, but if you’ll be good, I’ll leave your wrists in the cuffs only.” He had the metal rings snapped around each wrist and patted her knee. He could do so much more to her, and would if she didn’t start cooperating. He knew she didn’t understand, and she might really start to hate him before it was all finished. If that meant she stayed out of Pecadores’ clutches, he’d deal with it.

“Oh. How sweet of you.” She pushed him back with her feet and swung them into the truck.

She flinched when the door slammed shut. Good. Her attitude wasn’t going to get her anywhere she really wanted to be. It sure as hell wasn’t going to get her home.

---