Page 25 of His Captive Pet

Blake tossed the stick again and joined her on the porch.

“Sleep okay?” he asked.

“As well as a captive can, I suppose.” She lifted one shoulder in a shrug and wiped her eyes. The long strands of her hair were in disarray, and small creases were embedded in the gentleness of her face from the bedding. “I guess I should be grateful you didn’t make me sleep with those cuffs on.”

“Yeah. Maybe you could thank me for making sure you had clothes, too.” He toyed with the hem of her T-shirt.

She pulled away from him and took two long steps to the porch bench and sat down, pulling her knees up to her chest and hugging her legs.

He sighed.

“I’ll make breakfast if you’re hungry. Devin loaded us up.” He pointed to the door.

“I don’t want breakfast.” She ignored him and watched Samuel as he brought the stick back up onto the porch and shoved it at Blake.

“I’m going to call John in about an hour and see what the status is. It would help me if I knew the name of your contact.”

“It would help me if you’d give me my phone back,” she countered, reaching over and taking the stick from Samuel’s mouth and tossing it off the porch.

Blake studied her for several breaths and stood back up. “Fine. You want to see your phone.” He marched into the cabin, into his room, and snagged the phone from his nightstand. When he burst back out onto the porch, she stood at the bottom step, grappling with Samuel for the stick. She must have seen him from the corner of her eye, because she gave up.

“Here.” He thrust the phone at her. “Check out all the curses and threats your friends have been sending you.” At least half a dozen had come from the same number.

She scrolled through them, and her face became paler with each new message. They’d gotten more graphic in their descriptions of what they would do to her if she didn’t show her face.

“They said if I just go back—”

He took the phone from her with a shake of his head. “Yeah, they’ll just talk, they’ll just ask you a few questions. But if they have to find you it’ll be worse. Right. You can’t actually believe that.”

She pinched her lips together. She had believed it.

“You’re too naive. You never should have gotten involved in this shit in the first place.” He jammed the phone into his back pocket.

“Those dogs need my help.”

“You almost got yourself killed. Hell, you’re not even out of the thick of it yet. You could still get yourself killed. You can’t rescue the whole damn world, Aubree.”

She squared her shoulders at him and lifted her chin. “At least I try.” Not giving him a chance to respond, she marched back up the stairs. “I’m taking a shower. Is that allowed, oh, king of the world? Or do I chance drowning under the spray of water?”

He could do without her sarcasm.

“Keep this up, Aubree, and you’re going to find yourself with a very sore ass—or worse.”

She huffed and let the screen door slam behind her.

The phone buzzed again in his pocket, and he took another look.

It would be horrible if your pretty little clinic wasn’t around anymore to heal the puppies

“Fuck.” He gripped the phone, managing to not throw it to the ground. If she saw the message, she’d run back with no regard to her own safety. Too early or not, he needed to get a hold of John.

Chapter Eleven

The water washed away some of the tension from Aubree’s body as she stood beneath the spray. Blake hadn’t bothered her after he put her to bed. A small part of her had wanted him to come into the bed with her, to hold her and help ease the worry starting to build up inside her. But she couldn’t listen to that little voice; she would handle things on her own. Like always.

She had been surprised when he let her have her own room, especially since he didn’t trust she wouldn’t sneak off during the night. Although, since Samuel had slept with him, he probably felt safe she wouldn’t leave him behind.

She finished drying off and walked back into her room.

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