Page 12 of Becoming His Pet

Remaining silent, and no longer all that concerned about his playroom, she pushed past him and found the couch to sink into. She needed to come up with a plan.

Her father had warned her to always have a backup plan. Never assume the first route will get you where you want to go. She pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled.

She could hear him pacing the room, but at least he wasn’t talking.

“Did you really come into the shop today for carnations?” she asked, staring at the floor beneath her feet.

“Yes.” Firm and to the point. Good.

“You don’t know the Santinelli brothers or Antonio?” she continued.

“No. Other than reading their name in the news, never heard of them.”

The news. The extortion investigation. She cursed under her breath. Everything had gone to shit in such a quick amount of time.

“Okay. I need to make a call.” She didn’t see any other way.

“Who are you going to call?” he asked.

She stood up from the couch and put out her hand. “My phone’s in my purse back at the shop. I need to use yours.” A distinct calm came over her once a decision had been made.

“Nora. Who are you going to call?” he asked again, in a firmer tone. She found herself gazing up at him, and her body responding to the sternness in his voice, but she shook it off. The entire day made her too tired.

“Look. I don’t care about your playroom. If you like spanking and tying up women, or men, I don’t really give a fuck. But I do need to make a call and since I don’t have my phone I need yours.”

With her own voice coming in loud and clear now, the steel back in her spine, he stared down at her.

“The playroom didn’t scare you.” It might have been a question, but it came out more like an accusation. One that she wouldn’t confirm or deny. She’d seen plenty of shit online. Some of her fantasies ran outside the normal roses and sonnet romances.

She never fully understood the whole spanking thing, or domination stuff, but whatever got people’s rocks off was their thing—not her business. His playroom had spooked her at first, she wouldn’t lie to herself about that. But once it registered as a playroom and not the room of a psychopath killer, it didn’t concern her. Whatever he did with his girlfriends was between him and them.

“No. It didn’t. Very good.” She threw in a wink. She’d hoped the fear she’d portrayed at finding the room would make him let her go, but he really did seem to want to play hero in her story.

She didn’t need one of those.

“Your phone.” She jiggled her hand, expecting his cell to drop into it at any second.

Soft knocking on the door grabbed her attention.

“Don’t move.” He jerked his finger at her. Where the hell would she go?

When he opened the door, the same woman who greeted them downstairs rushed inside, quietly took the door from Greg, and pressed it closed.

“Aubree? What’s wrong?” Greg’s voice immediately softened, and he leaned over toward her, like he was ready to protect her at a moment’s notice.

“Blake’s downstairs with two police officers. They said your car was spotted leaving a crime scene with a girl, an Elenora. Is that you?” she asked Nora.

The tingling in Nora’s spine shot up through her. She’d said no cops.

“Did you call the cops when I told you not to?” Nora demanded of Greg. He settled a glare on her and shook his head.

“I asked my brother to get me in touch with a safe person to talk with,” he said, his hard tone returning for her benefit.

“Blake hasn’t called anyone. That’s what I’m telling you.” Aubree waved her hands. “I don’t know what’s going on, but they know she’s with you, Greg.”

Greg cursed at the same time Nora let out a string of her own expletives.

“Okay.” Greg’s voice softened again when he spoke to Aubree.

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