Page 70 of His Captive Pet

“She’ll be fine,” Blake said and carried her away.

She meant to tell him to leave her, to forget about her, but she closed her eyes and forgot everything.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“I don’t understand what takes the fucking doctor so long.” Blake jumped up from the chair in the hallway outside Aubree’s hospital room. The doctor had already been in there for nearly half an hour, what the hell was he doing?

“He’s making sure she’s all right. Just calm down.” Devin tried to hand him a cup of coffee, but Blake shook his head. He was already on edge.

“Did you see that bruise on her face, that mark from where that little fuck hit her?” Blake pumped his fists at his sides. It had taken too long to get to her. He hadn’t been there in time. She’d been on her own.

Aside from the drive back in town, they had needed to find out where the hell she could have gone. Her house was gone, so that wasn’t a likely place. Greg hadn’t seen her, so she hadn’t gone to The Breakroom. It had taken Trevor a dozen phone calls to get a hold of someone who would tell him where Jorge had warehouses in the city.

John scrounged up a small team to meet them there, but by the time they got there, got through the assholes playing at guard duty, she’d already been hurt.

Hearing the gun go off, seeing the light flicker outside the door they were headed toward, his heart stopped. Dead in its tracks, his heart had just become frozen. But then he’d heard her scream. When he saw her, he doubted she knew she was even screaming. Panic and terror held her hostage.

Jorge writhed on the floor in pain. Before Blake could fully register the room, another shot rang out, but it wasn’t from Aubree. She hadn’t shot the fatal blow. She hadn’t killed him.

The weight of that man’s death, no matter how deserved it was, would have crushed her.

He hadn’t gotten to her in time. The same thought drove through his brain; every time he started to think of something else, that one thought barreled through. She could have gotten killed because he hadn’t gotten to her in time.

“Blake. The doc wants you.” Trevor jerked a thumb at the old man holding a tablet in his hand outside her room.

“She’s okay, right?”

“Yes. Well, overall, yes. The bruise on her face will heal, no fracture. She’s more shaken up than anything else. I’ll have the nurses draw up the release papers. She can go home. She needs rest, and fluids, she’s a bit dehydrated. Does she have someone to stay with her for a day or so? She said she has no family in the area.”

“She’ll stay with me. It’s fine.” Blake thanked the doctor and stood at the doorway to her room. The curtain was pulled across the glass door to give her privacy, so he couldn’t see her. He needed to see her.

“Everything okay?” Trevor asked.

“Yeah. She can go home.”

“You’re doing it again. Making this your fault. Stop it.” Greg shoved his shoulder. His little brother had shown up and wouldn’t leave until he saw for himself that Aubree was safe and sound.

Blake ignored him and pushed through the door.

She was on her feet, with her back to the door. Her hair splayed down her bare back, while she tried to maneuver her shirt over her head.

He rushed to her side and helped her. She wasn’t injured, no more than the bruise on her face, but she was sore. Tension like she’d experienced could wear out the body as much as any physical activity.

Aubree let him help but then pulled away to sit on the bed. She looked down at her hands.

“Samuel’s already at my apartment. Trevor brought him.” Blake wanted to touch her, to feel her silky hair run through his fingers, but he didn’t reach for her.

She nodded.

“Greg’s outside. He wants to be sure you’re okay.”

“Can I see him later?” she whispered.

“Sure. I’ll tell him to beat it.”

“My house is gone.”

“Yeah. I know.” He sat in the chair and tried to look up at her, but her hair created the perfect curtain to hide her features. “Aubree. You’re okay. The doctor—”

---