Page 9 of His Captive Pet

A deep brown pup that couldn’t have been more than two years old sat panting and shivering. He didn’t look as though he’d been in the ring yet, if at all. “First time, boy?” She reached out to him slowly. He flinched at the sight of her hand, but let her touch him. “Okay. You aren’t getting in that damn ring.” She put her bag down and searched through it, finding her supplies.

Aubree made quick work to pull out the syringe and take a look around to be sure no one would be interrupting her. Lucky for her, once the dogs were chained up and the fights began, the owners didn’t care about their dogs. A loud yelp made her jump, but she managed not to look over at the ring. She didn’t need to; the cheers narrated the scene. Another dog was being murdered. Well, she wasn’t going to let that happen to this dog.

She managed to give the pup the injection quickly, and tossed the syringe back in her bag before anyone would notice. Slowly, the drug she’d given the dog worked its way through his system, and he lay down on the dirty floor. “It’s okay, sweet thing, you’ll be fine.”

“What the fuck are you doing?” a deep voice demanded from behind her. She spun around and came face to barrel with a menacing man. “What did you just give him?”

“Medicine. He’s sick.” She glanced over at her bag lying next to her, but just out of reach.

“He was fine a few minutes ago. Get up.” He didn’t wait for her to move on her own; he reached down and pulled her to her feet, keeping the gun trained on her. A loud thudding in her ears drowned out his cursing, but once she realized it was her heart hammering away and not gunshots being fired at her, she managed to focus a little better.

“Look, I was just—” A flash of white light blinded her just before a thunderous explosion rattled the warehouse. Dogs began barking and fighting against their chains as smoke filled the makeshift arena. Unfortunately, the big bad asshole didn’t seem overly concerned with the panicked screams or the approaching pounding boots on the pavement; his grip on her upper arm tightened.

“Stay right here,” he snarled when she tried to yank free.

“Fucking cops!” Luis roared as he passed them toward the back doors. No one came to claim the chained-up dogs, and the few who were unleashed waiting their turn in the ring were running loose barking and growling.

“No!” she screamed when she heard shots being fired followed by a whimper of pain. “Let me go!” She tried to kick the wildebeest with the steel grip, but he only shook her and pressed the barrel to her head.

“You’re my fucking ticket out.”

“Just let me go and run!” she pleaded with him.

“Put the fucking gun down,” a familiar growl demanded. Unable to move her head, Aubree looked to the side as best she could. She wished she hadn’t.

Blake stood only five feet away, a semiautomatic pistol of his own pointed at her captor. His expression was deadlier than the weapon, at least to her. To anyone else he probably looked calm and collected, but she had seen his eyes. Rage burned there, and she knew it wasn’t just aimed at the asshole holding her.

Behind him stood ten more men, all dressed in the same gear as Blake. A squad. Blake was on the police force? He was a cop?

“Motherfucker!” The wildebeest shoved her down to the floor toward the panicked animals scrambling to get away from the smoke and chaos of the room. Aubree managed to scoot away from one dog before he managed to get his teeth into her arm, and tripped the bastard in the process as he tried to make a run for it. Three men were on him in an instant, and Aubree herself was hauled up to her feet. She didn’t need to look; the grip on her arm told her who had her.

“Blake—” He slapped a hand over her mouth and spun her to look into her face. The deep blue eyes she’d been melting into earlier burned her with their icy glare.

“Don’t say a word,” he ground out. “Not one fucking word.”

She swallowed hard as he spun her again, this time to face away from him. Her hands were drawn behind her back and cuffs were locked around each of her wrists.

Blake was a cop, and he had arrested her.

Chapter Five

Chaos began to die down as the police began to round up the scum who hadn’t gotten out of the building. The asshole who put the gun to Aubree’s head shuffled in front of them, escorted by two men. For all the yelling and struggling, the man really had no options. Panic ruled him at the moment.

Just thinking about the barrel of that gun pressed against her temple made Blake grip her arm even tighter. He’d known, fuck him, he’d known she’d be there, but he had hoped she would have had the sense to stay away. Of course she wouldn’t. Animals were her life, and rescuing the abused dogs he saw being rounded up had been a top priority for her.

He walked her through the warehouse, not making eye contact with any members of the force as he did so. The dogs were being rounded up by animal control, and several vets were on standby at the nearest clinic. Aubree would have been one of them, except things had changed when she’d become involved with the fights.

John Hamish walked over to them as they stepped out of the warehouse and toward his truck. The entire lot had been taken over by squad cars and paddy wagons. The men from the fight were being rounded up and walked over to the wagons. It looked as though they’d managed to catch a good number of the spectators.

“Hey.” John lifted his chin in greeting, only sparing a quick glance at Aubree. “I see you got what you came for.”

“Yeah.” Blake pulled her closer when she twisted away, watching the other men being cuffed. “I did.”

“Well, we got the ringleader. Jorge. Caught him trying to shimmy out the back gate.”

“Jorge?” Aubree twisted again to look around.

Blake followed her gaze to a man twice her size and strength being led toward a squad car. His eyes were on Aubree, watching them. Blaze yanked her again.

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