Epilogue #2
Letting Cupcake go, I walk over and hold out my hand. “May I sign to you?”
Salem interprets, and Otto immediately lets him go. I’ve never done this before, but I think I can manage a few sentences. I place my hand under Otto’s as I crouch down so he doesn’t have to stand.
‘I’m very sure. We can keep him for the night if you want me to. If anything goes wrong, I can treat him. But I think he will be okay.’
Otto’s hands squeeze tightly under mine, and then he pulls back. ‘You’re sure?’
Salem says that aloud, then looks at me. “You must know how important Cupcake is for Otto.” He signs that into Otto’s hand after he speaks. “He’s trained for both guide and hearing.”
“I understand,” I tell him. “I wouldn’t lie to you. Not about this.”
Otto lets out a puff of air, then nods. ‘Okay.’
I straighten up and take a breath, and then suddenly, the entire room is plunged into darkness. I think. I’m pretty sure I haven’t suddenly gone blind.
“What the fuck,” Salem says aloud. I can hear his hands moving, and then Otto makes a worried noise.
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my phone and turn on the flashlight. Salem winces as I accidentally get him right in the eyes, and I turn it down to the floor.
“Shit, sorry. It’s probably just a fuse. This building is old as fuck. Can you wait here?”
Salem waves me off, and I open the door, hurrying to the lobby, but Bridgette is nowhere to be found, and considering she didn’t scream, I’m assuming she’s gone.
I can see through the windows that it’s started to rain, which is probably what’s made the power go out suddenly, but I want to check the breaker to be sure. I’m not exactly a handy guy when it comes to these things.
When shit breaks in my place, I call someone.
Turning the corner, I notice that the service entrance door is open, which is odd. It’s usually locked, but it’s also possible that in the chaos of the evening, one of the staff used it and didn’t latch it all the way.
I walk down and stick my head out, immediately hit in the face with wind and rain.
“Ah! Fuck me!”
As I swipe water out of my eyes, I notice something not too far away. A shadow in the shape of a person. My heart leaps into my throat as it moves toward me, and I feel the sudden urge to break into a run.
My entire body tenses, and—
“Dr. Bel? Are you okay?”
It takes me a second to remember I have a patient and to recognize Salem’s voice. “Yes, sorry! I think the storm might have knocked out the power!” I call back.
I turn my head back toward the alley, but whoever was there isn’t anymore. Or maybe they never were. I’ve been working for fourteen hours, so there’s a good chance I’m hallucinating.
I have been watching a lot of murder shows lately. I could be reenacting one subconsciously.
Slamming the door, I twist the lock, then use my flashlight to make my way back to the exam room where Otto’s sitting with Cupcake between his legs, Salem holding his hand.
“Listen, I don’t know what’s going on, but go ahead and take Cupcake home and just call me if something comes up.
” I reach for one of my cards and the pen that’s always by the computer, scribbling down my cell phone number.
“This is my personal number you can text. I also have my email on there if that’s a better way to communicate.
Sorry, I don’t have anything in braille. ”
‘It’s fine,’ Otto signs. ‘Salem will help me if I need it. Is there anything I need to do for Cupcake tonight?’
I drop to my knees again and check his gums, then the sclera in his eyes, before looking up at them both.
“Feel free to give him some pumpkin with his next meal if he’s having an upset stomach, and if you want to call the clinic in the morning, Bridgette can schedule you in for the day after tomorrow so I can check on him. ”
I give Cupcake one last scratch before walking Salem and Otto to the front. The lock is turned, so I undo it, then hold the door for them as they start on their way out.
Otto stops and extends one hand toward me while the other touches his chin. ‘Thank you. I was scared.’
‘I know,’ I answer back as his hand follows mine. ‘You did the right thing.’
Otto smiles, then lets me go, and I watch as they make their way to Salem’s truck, which is parked right out front. They get in, and when the headlights blind me, I turn away and head back to the front desk to leave Bridgette a note.
Luckily, we don’t have any animals at the clinic at the moment, so I won’t need to worry about the power, and our one fridge and freezer holding sensitive medications are on a small generator, which will last until morning.
I think all my bases are covered.
With a cleansing breath, I head to my office, guided just by the light from my phone. Though as I move, I can’t help but feel like I’m being watched. It has to be the paranoia from being in the dark.
It’s been a weirdly long day, and this last call was unexpected.
I need a stiff drink, a long bath, and maybe a gummy to help me sleep.
The thought comforts me as I reach for the door handle, but before I can push it open, it swings wide, and the next thing I know, I’m being shoved against the wall.
My mouth drops open in a half scream, but it’s immediately muffled by a long piece of duct tape smeared across my lips by a strong hand.
“Mmfhph!”
Those same strong hands grab me by the wrists, and I feel thin bands wrap around them—zip ties. I do my best to break the plastic, but it holds.
That’s when I start to panic.
That’s when I realize this is real. And something is wrong. And I’m in a lot of danger.
Tears immediately gather in my eyes in spite of myself. I might be a sad man. A lonely man. Maybe even a grumpy man. But I don’t want to die.
Not yet.
And not like this.
I don’t like pain—I never have. I have a long, shitty past where pain was the main focus, and I thought I had escaped. I thought I had put that all behind me. This can’t be it for me.
My tears are thick enough that I can’t see shit when the figure spins me, and I brace myself to be hit, or gutted, or shot, or…who the fuck knows.
What I don’t expect is a warm, tender palm touching my cheek. I don’t expect rough thumbs gathering the moisture from my eyes and sweeping it away.
I don’t expect my vision to clear and to see Milo, of all fucking people, hovering over me.
“What the fuck?” I try to say, though it comes out a garbled mess.
He sighs as he leans in, and for a second, I swear to god he sniffed me. “I couldn’t take the risk.”
What risk, I want to scream, but all that comes out is, “Hmmft hnngt?”
His hand moves to the front of my throat, laying gentle pressure there before he places it flat over my sternum. I like the pressure of it far too much. More than I should. “Your heart is racing.”
No fucking shit!
My eyes narrow, and his mouth twitches.
Then he smiles widely, his entire face lighting up.
“Yeah, I get it. It’s scary. But Palmer, I’m not going to hurt you.
I just couldn’t take the risk,” he repeats again, like somehow that answers my questions.
His grin fades slightly, and he passes his free hand down his face.
I can hear the scrape of his stubble against his palm.
“They always run, and I can’t have that.
Not now. You’re…” He wets his lips, his gaze dropping to my throat, the pulse pounding there.
“You’re perfect. You’re exactly what I need.
So just…be a good boy, and don’t panic.”
In spite of everything—in spite of my initial fear and the fact that he might be a psychopath—something in me goes molten.
And drifts slowly down to my dick.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Milo doesn’t seem to notice the bulge in the front of my pants, and if he does, he says nothing about it.
Instead, he utters, “Just so you know, what I’m going to do to you…
we’re gonna head to my truck, and I’m going to drive you to my apartment.
I have one above the cat café. Tomorrow, you can work on the cats, and then you can go back to your clinic. ”
I stare at him, blinking slowly.
“And you’re not going to fight me. Not at all. You’re going to be the best little victim. The best boy.”
The way he says that, the way his voice lowers, makes my dick twitch in my pants.
I really have lost my goddamn mind.
I really should be fighting for my life right now and making a break for it.
Only my dick approves of this entire thing and assures me it will be fine.
It’s totally fine. Oh god. Only a crazy person would believe him because nice people with good intentions don’t kidnap their vets to vaccinate their cats.
God, is this a double entendre? Does vaccinating cats mean he’s going to do something else to me? Like…I don’t even know. I can’t even come up with what it could mean for me.
But Milo’s gaze meets mine, and I see something in his eyes that makes me soften, that makes me lean toward him slightly.
It’s something desperate. Something frantic.
And god help me, but somehow, I know that although he has officially scared ten years off my life, those tender hands touching me are not there to hurt.
And that might be the last coherent thought I have, because the next thing I know, he ties a blindfold over my eyes, hoists me over his shoulder, and takes me out into the rain.
Coming soon, Murder Hearts book 2: Take Me