Page 66 of His Captive Pet

“It took you two days to catch up with Addison. Do you know how much can happen?”

“Don’t think about that,” Trevor warned, stealing a glance at Addison.

Blake checked his phone once more before shoving it in the back of his jeans.

“Ready?” Devin asked.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Trevor stepped into the hall.

“You’re both coming?” Blake asked, surprised. He looked at Kara and Addison sitting in the background.

“Man, you were there for both of us when we had our share of trouble. Hell, yes, we’re coming. The girls are fine here. Turnkey and Donald will make sure the place is secure while we’re gone. I trust them.” Devin went to Kara, pulling her to her feet and kissing her and whispering in her ear. Trevor mirrored his brother’s actions and headed for the front door.

“You really love her, don’t you?” Trevor asked as Blake fired up the truck.

“If I lose her, I’ll kill every last motherfucker I find near her.” Blake threw the truck in gear and drove off toward the gates.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Trevor sat back in his seat and shot Devin a look before signaling for Turnkey to open the gates.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Aubree took a deep breath, her lungs burning, her throat on fire. The overwhelming sensations woke her up, making her sit up too fast. Her eyes hurt, the light too bright over her. She tried to shield it from her eyes, but her hands wouldn’t move from behind her. She tugged and yanked, blinking and looking around.

Her eyes started focusing, the bright light not as painful. She tugged her hands again, but still nothing. She was cuffed again behind her back. Metal rings dug into her wrists when she tugged.

Looking around the room, she took in the cement floor covered in dirt and old newspapers. The room wasn’t large, maybe the size of a broom closet, but it had a pungent smell. Urine? She scrambled to her feet, looking around. Everything appeared dry.

She took a calming breath, willing her head to stop spinning. It hurt, the deep throb making it hard to think clearly.

She’d driven home, back down her street to see her house—or what was left of it. After that, she’d stopped to get gas. That was it. Nothing else came back to her. She left Samuel in the car, went to the pump, and started to unscrew the gas cap.

Then nothing. Blackness. She remembered screaming, but not hearing any sound. Then no sound at all, no car horns, no screeching tires of the city drivers. Nothing.

Until she woke up in this cell.

Samuel. Where was Samuel?

Her heart hammered against her chest, the burn of her lungs returned as she took in too many deep breaths too quickly. Stumbling forward, she bumped into the door, thick and made of steel. She doubted she could be heard if she screamed, but that didn’t stop her from trying.

She yelled until her throat threatened to split in half and then she started to kick at the door. Mid-kick, the door opened and she fell forward, hitting her knees on the concrete flooring of a hallway.

“Ah, the cunt is awake.” A man with a heavy accent laughed over her. A hand gripped her upper arm hard and dragged her back to her feet. “Jorge will be happy as fuck. C’mon.”

Her captor dragged her down a long corridor, lined with overhead lighting and doors. She heard barking in the distance, and the smell was too strong to ignore. Rotting flesh. There were dead animals somewhere near.

He pulled her up a set of stairs and through another long hallway. The smell was gone, and there was more natural light coming through windows at the end of the hall.

She stumbled, but he didn’t care, he just yanked her harder to keep up with him. They came to a door, and she could hear yelling behind it.

“I don’t want to hear your whining, you fucking bitch.” A smack and a loud cry followed. “When I tell you no, it’s fucking no.”

Her eyes darted to the door, and her chin rose. She knew that statement. She’d heard that bellowing before. It may be a different voice, but the words were the same, the intent exactly the same. Belittle and shame, hurt and terrorize.

Her escort opened the door, nonplussed over the angry voice coming from the room, and shoved her through. She managed to right herself before tumbling face-first to the floor.

“Oh, what is this? Theputais awake?” The sneer in his voice sent a chill down her back. She shook her head, clearing the hair from her face and tried to look him in the eye. Only a few feet from where she stood, he seemed to tower over the room. He wore only an undershirt and jeans. His broad shoulders and thick, muscular arms didn’t lead her to believe he was anything but the force his deep voice had suggested.

She glanced around the room until she found her. A woman, huddled in the far corner, her hand cradling her cheek, and the look of fear plastered on her face. Aubree knew that look, had grown up seeing it on her mother’s face and wondering why they had to stay. Why her mother didn’t pack them up and leave. But, now, standing in the room with this other woman pressing herself in the corner, she understood why. Behind the woman stood a little girl. Six years old or so, peeking out from behind her mother. The same fearful glare in her eyes.

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