“To check the fuse box. It’s back by the kennels,” I answer, checking the slide and turning off the safety. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“Then what’s with the piece?” Blake holds her hands out at her sides in frustration.
“Just in case,” I lie. “Wait in here and lock the door.”
“But—”
I don’t give Blake time to argue with my plan. On light feet, I enter the hallway. The dim emergency lights are the only source of luminance out here. I don’t like it, but I’ve been in worse situations.
My blood pumps in my veins with anticipation of what I might find. I check both exam rooms and the storage closet, coming up empty. Sweat drips down my back as I approach the door that leads to the kennels.
God help the motherfucker who threatens me and mine.
My hand brushes the cold metal of the handle when someone grabs my sleeve. Whirling around, I break the person’s hold on me.
“Chill out,” Blake whisper-shouts at me.
Sighing, I roll my eyes. “Blake, I almost hurt you. You can’t sneak up on me like that. I told you to?—”
Blake holds up a hand for me to stop talking. “Too bad. I’m coming.”
I don’t have time to take her back, so it looks like she’s my shadow. “Stay close and hold on to the back of my shirt.”
When I finally feel Blake's hand grip onto the fabric, I place my hand back on the handle and pull down slowly. The door opens without a sound upstairs, and I peer around the large space. The commotion and barking of the dogs and the kennels are my only indication that something is amiss. I lied to Blake earlier to keep her calm, and I'll probably go to hell for that.
“Do you see anything?” Blake whispers into my ear.
I hold my finger up to my lips, urging her to be quiet. Staying low, I proceed forward with Blake on my heels. With all of my senses on high alert, I scan the room. Everything seems to be in its place.
Leashes on the hooks.
Clipboards hanging by the door.
Kennels locked shut.
The only thing wrong is the lack of lighting and the mop bucket next to me lying on its side, which is more than enough to put me on edge.
My breaths come quick, but I keep them quiet. I told Blake that there was nothing to worry about, but the truth is I have nothing but panic and worry in my veins right now. It's not normal for the lights to just go off like this. The only other time that has happened was during a blizzard, and that was over five years ago.
Guiding us forward past the first row of kennels, I go down the second, leading us by Bear. I know Blake will want to check on him.
Every few steps, I feel Blake’s grip getting tighter and tighter.
He barks vigorously, jumping at his cage. He thrashes wildly to get out. Blake's hands tighten the fabric further, and I can hear her light gasp behind me as she witnesses Bear's behavior.
We turn and go down the third and final row, which is empty of occupants. As we clear the end, I'm barely past the last kennel when a shadow shifts in my peripheral vision.
My only warning is the light scrape of boots on the concrete.
In half a second, the shadow is on top of me.
My body is knocked into the hard cement of the floor. A jolt of pain zings from my hip to my shoulder. My gun goes skidding across the floor out of my reach, and the body on top of me is weighing me down.
A fist lands in my gut, knocking the wind out of me, but I was born here. I was raised here—I know how to take a hit.
Twisting onto my side, I keep my elbows tight against my ribs to block the rain of punches at my center. It’s too dark in here for me to see his face.
I wrap my left hand around one of his wrists, tightly holding it against my chest. The motion pushes his sleeve up, and I’m barely able to make out the outline of a tattoo on his arm.
