Page 80 of Becoming His Pet

“Because selling Elenora Santucci isn’t allowed,” John stated bluntly. “She’s protected by Santinelli. Bernie here doesn’t trust his men not to turn him in to the boss.”

Greg yanked off his shirt, ignoring the pain in his arm and ribs and quickly covered Nora with it. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him.

“You’re okay!” she said, tears falling down her cheeks.

“In one piece anyway,” Greg said, holding her tight to him.

John and Blake had the two assholes under control. Greg’s only concern now was Nora.

“Did they hurt you? Are you okay?” He looked her over.

“No, I’m fine,” she assured him, though a deep blush covered her cheeks. He’d find out about that later, when the other men weren’t in the room to overhear.

“You can’t just take them,” Nora said to John. “The police don’t care. Most of them are in the Santinelli pocket.”

“Oh, we’re not taking them to the police.” John looked at Greg. “You take care of your girl, and let us handle this?”

Blake had Mr. Smith zip-tied and in his grasp.

“Yeah.” Greg nodded. As happy as putting his boot through Bernie’s face would make him, he had bigger responsibilities now.

“I think we should get to a hospital, have you checked out,” Greg said to Nora.

“No. Please. Just take me home.” Her wide eyes looked up at him, the plea in her voice real.

He could check her over himself.

“Okay.”

“Gary’s bringing the other car around. He’ll get you two home, and we’ll take these two,” John explained as he shoved a now gagged Bernie from the room.

“Blake, don’t do anything—”

“That I can’t live with,” Blake finished for his little brother. “I can live with this. Don’t worry.” He then looked at Nora. “You take care of your girl.”

Greg nodded and refocused on Nora. “You have clothes here?”

“Yeah, that woman put them in the closet.”

“She let us in, told us where to find you quick,” Greg said, grasping at things to say. Normal things. He had too many questions to bother her with yet.

Nora snorted. “I’ll tell you about her later.”

Greg narrowed his gaze. There was a lot of information coming his way, he thought. But first he needed to get her dressed and home.

His home.

In his bed.

Because that’s where he kept his things. And that’s what she was.

His.

---