I heard some yipping noises and grumbling from the room where the dogs were being held as we passed by, making it clear that stealing from them hadn’t even put a kink in their evil plans to create more horror for poor, defenseless animals.
My eyes squeezed shut as what came to mind at that moment was, well, my own dogs.
My two older rescues.
The about-to-pop Alma.
And poor Lyle.
Who might not get a second chance if I wasn’t around.
No.
No, that wasn’t true, was it?
Surely, if nothing else, Remy would take care of them after I was gone, right? That was the kind of man he was.
Maybe Myles would take in my little dogs, wanting to hold onto a piece of me.
Alma’s puppies would have no trouble finding homes.
But Alma and Lyle might find themselves without a future. Which was exactly the kind of situation that Remy would interject himself into, taking them home to join his ever-growing pack.
I guess it was lucky that I’d met Remy when I had.
My animals wouldn’t suffer too much from my absence thanks to him.
That was a comfort of sorts. I would have died in the worst kind of misery if I didn’t know what would happen to my animals after I was gone.
As for my parents, well, they would know I loved them. And they would likely tap Myles’s shoulder for a replacement for me.
It would all work out for everyone.
Just not me.
With a sigh, I resigned myself to my fate.
Defeatist?
Yes, definitely.
But there seemed no other way out.
Especially with my shoulder screaming, and outnumbered by men already, with more to come, it seemed.
Whoever this boss guy was.
He had to be pretty awful to control these other terrible guys. And, you know, run a dog fighting ring.
I was pulled down the hallway toward the front of the building, a place I was unfamiliar with.
Somehow, that was the most alarming part of the situation right that moment. It was completely illogical, but undeniable.
Would they take me to the room where the ring was? I wasn’t sure I could stomach that. The dried blood. The rape stand.
No.
Anywhere but there.