Page 106 of Breaking the Sinner

Tyler shushed him, holding up a hand. From the TV, soft moans emanated. And then he spotted it—full dick, easing in and out of some girl’s very bare pussy. Cobra shook his head, pushing to stand.

“Amateur night,” Klay explained a moment later. His left hand had disappeared beneath the waistband of his shorts.

“Jesus,” Cobra muttered, heading for the kitchen. “Sick fucks.” There had been a time in his life when he’d loved spending a Saturday night like this: holed up, whacking off, doing whatever the fuck he wanted, whenever the fuck he wanted. The circle jerks weren’t fun anymore. Nothing about this place—or these guys—was fun anymore.

He searched the cupboards for a box of mac and cheese, setting water to boil. The credits were rolling when the barking started. Tyler sat up, dark brows drawn together.

“Is that barking I hear?”

Cobra’s stomach pitched to his feet. In the split second he took to figure out his game plan, Klay had leapt to his feet.

“It’s coming from Coby’s room,” he cried out, almost gleefully, and pushed into the bedroom.

Cobra bolted after him, but he didn’t get to Stella before Klay did. Klay whooped with laughter, picking up the tiny dog and holding her above his head. Like an animal toying with its food before devouring.

“Get the fuck out of here!” Tyler said, whooping. He shoved Cobra from behind, which launched him into Klay’s side. “You brought us a pet?”

“Ohhh, this little dog is gonna get soooo high,” Klay cackled.

“Give her to me,” Cobra said, grabbing Klay’s arm. “She’s a friend’s. I’m keeping her overnight.”

“You serious?” Klay looked genuinely upset. “Then we gotta get all our fun in tonight!”

“I’m hurt that you wouldn’t buy us a dog as a present,” Tyler said with feigned displeasure. Cobra’s thighs tensed as Tyler carried Stella into the living room.

“Come on, man,” Cobra said again, trying to figure out his best escape plan. It was clear to him now—Stella couldn’t live here.

For that matter, maybe Cobra couldn’t either.

“Nope. She’s ours.” Tyler plopped onto the couch with a sadistic grin. Cobra’s stomach turned. He had to do something.Now.

Cobra went back into his bedroom, surveying what little bit he had in there. From the living room, Klay and Tyler cackled. “Little puppyyyyy.”

He snagged the business card from the mirror, his phone and wallet, and then stuffed as many clothes as he could grab into his work duffel bag. He didn’t even bother to see what he grabbed, just stuffed and stuffed. He moved the mattress, snaking out the money bag, adding that to the duffel.

“Let’s get him high,” Klay said.

“All right. All right.”

Final sweep of the room. The drawing book. He scooped that up next, placing it on top of his clothes, the drawing book that had once been a library book until he loved it so much he had to buy it. Beyond this, there was nothing else of value. Whatever he lacked, he’d buy. Because he fucking could.

Cobra strode out into the living room, duffel bag slung around him. “Give me the dog.”

“Hang on. Watch. Watch.” Klay fumbled, holding Stella in one hand, while she whimpered and struggled to get out of his grip. Cobra forced his way between Tyler and Klay, reaching for Stella.

“Back off!” Klay backed.

“We’re just having some fun,” Tyler said, clamping down on Cobra’s shoulder. The pressure made him jolt. He rammed his elbow into Tyler’s side, and he doubled over, whining. “Jesus, what was that for.”

In the scuffle, Klay had leapt to his feet, heading to the other side of the living room. He had Stella scooped into his arms.

“You’re acting crazy again, Cobra.”

“Give me the fucking dog.”

Klay’s smile turned sardonic. “What do you care about this thing anyway?” He lifted the dog, squeezing his fingers around Stella’s belly until she yelped. Cobra swallowed hard, measuring his movements, keeping an eye on Tyler off to the side.

He’d fucking kill Klay to get Stella out of here safely. Everything had sharpened to a painful, diamond-cut clarity. This would be her—and his—last minute in this shit hole.

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