Page 109 of Hot for Hostage

She didn’t have an answer for that.

Neither did I.

When Bear whined into my ear, I squeezed him even tighter. “I need you to be a good boy and stay with Ryan and Gladys now, okay?Stay.”

Gladys spoke up again—telling me not to go—but I focused on Bear.

“Take care of them, okay? They need you now,” I whispered. I needed him, too. But more than that, I needed Bear and my friends safe. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to them because of me. I allowed myself one more Bear-hug and pressed a big kiss to the side of his snout. “I’ll be right back.”

When I pulled away, his big sad puppy-dog eyes cracked my heart straight down the middle, and I swallowed a sob.

“See? Nice and calm. You’re such a good boy, Bear,” I murmured through a tight throat, unable to resist scratching between his ears one more time. “I love you so much.”

“That’s enough.” Zain grabbed my arm and yanked me back from Bear, making me grit my teeth. “Get in the car.”

I stood on shaky legs and forced myself to turn away as even more tears escaped. I could feel Bear’s confusion as I walked away with the scary men.

His soft whine almost broke me, and I stumbled a step before Zain pushed me forward.

Fessy balanced on one of his crutches and opened the back door for me, but I paused in front of it to squint up at Zain. “You promise you won’t hurt them?”

His thick eyebrow rose. “You’re the only one we need. Your friends are free to go.”

I gave a short nod. It wasn’t a promise, but it’d have to do.

Bear’s whine morphed into barking, and I squeezed my eyes shut to stop myself from looking back. I didn’t want him to see me cry. It would only confuse him more.

So, I grasped the door handle with a trembling hand and moved to climb in.

“But to make sure you behave during the drive…” Zain trailed off behind me. “Sweet dreams, cupcake.”

I had a second to frown—and shudder at the unwelcome pet name—before pain exploded behind my eyes.

I dropped like a sack of potatoes as everything went dark.

above average

. . .

Davian

The damn hellhound hadn’t just stolen my shoes from the mudroom—he’d gotten into the entire collection. Every last pair in my closet was missing, and I had no idea where the hell he’d hidden them all.

“When did he even have time to do this?” I asked Vince. If it weren’t slowing me down from getting Sadie back, I might’ve been impressed. “I thought you were watching him.”

“I’m not a pet sitter.” His nostrils flared. “And that dog is a menace. I took my eyes off him for a second outside, and he got into Tony’s garden.”

I couldn’t imagine the chef would be happy about that.

But thanks to the beast’s antics I ended up borrowing a pair of Vince’s boots.

…Which led to a new problem we hadn’t foreseen, and I made it five steps into the garage before pain shot through me like my toes were being severed from my body. “How am I just now learning you have tiny feet?”

“My feet aren’t tiny, you ass.” He scowled at the boots. “They’re above average.”

“I can’t feel my toes.” I tried wiggling them, but his spare boots packed them in tighter than sardines. “What size are these?”

Vince grumbled something about ungrateful bastards and clown feet before storming ahead to the nearest SUV, and it was the closest I’d come to smiling since Sadie had run off.

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