Page 39 of Wicked Submission


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Anythingdidn’t scare her after all. I dial Blake Walker, this time for his hacking skills, and he answers on the first ring. “I need to know if there’s a pending legal action to be filed next week on a Shannon Tanner.”

“Two seconds, that might be thirty, but I like to sound impressive.”

I don’t laugh. He’s a beast of a hacker who probably could do two seconds. It takes him ten this time. “Nothing. All clear. I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Can you dig deeper? Connect the dots I gave Royce about another situation directly linked.”

“He told me about it, and yes. I will. More soon.” And just like his brother, with those words, he hangs up.

“Nothing pending,” I say. “They were just trying to scare you.”

She breathes out, her face relaxing, her arms wrapping my waist. “Thank you, Gabe. For everything.”

“Thank me with your mouth, and by that I mean by talking to me, and well, use it for anything else you like.” I wink. “I won’t complain.”

She laughs, but her eyes warm. “I do believe I can live up to at least a portion of that request.”

And with that promise, she departs, and for a moment, I admit, I think of her mouth on my cock. The next, I realize quite clearly, that she’s also promised to deny me the answers I want. That won’t work. She can try but she won’t win. I need to know the truth about what’s happening and the whole truth.

An hour after I kiss Abbie and promise her that she’s going to tell me why she tried to run yet again, I’m loading dogs up in the trucks. One by one, we ensure the pups have a warm, safe placeto go tonight, and from what Grayson says, indefinitely. That’s good and bad news. Moving the dogs could be just what Abbie’s ex wanted. Move them. Pull the steam out of the media’s ability to turn him into a bad guy when he takes this place.

In between loading, I meet a hell of a lot of adorable animals and I find a few I’d like to take home. One in particular—a German Shepard named nothing but Dog—steals my heart. Seems there’s a lot of stealing my heart going on these days. I name him Dexter because he’s snappy with a lot of people but not with me. With me, he’s so damn sweet that he must be a killer beneath all the sugar and much like me, he only goes for the jugular if the person really deserves it.

We’re about done and ready to leave, and I have yet to put Dexter in a cage. He follows me everywhere and we’re inside the lobby after dropping off another dog at the truck when we both spot Abbie coming our way. He starts whining and crying, wanting her to pet him. She laughs and kneels, giving him love. “You’re new and so very sweet.” He licks her to show approval.

Smart dog.

“He’s not that sweet,” I say. “He snaps at random people, but not me or you.”

“He’s just scared, and we’re special.” She eyes his tags. “Dog. That’s unacceptable.”

“He’s Dexter. I named him and he’s keeping the name.”

She laughs. “Are you adopting him?”

“Me? No. I don’t have time for a dog, but he can come hang out with us until we find him a home.”

“Us?” she queries, standing up, her hair a disarrayed, sexy mess around her pale perfect face.

“We’re spending our time together,” I say, catching her hip and dragging her to me, with Dexter on a leash and sitting by our side. “And you’re going to stop running from me.”

“I wasn’t running.” Her hands settle on my chest. “Not really.”

I stroke her cheek and her mother rushes to our side. “We’re done and Grayson’s wonderful. He arranged to have us stay in one of the ranch mini-houses on the property.” She eyes us both. “Are you two coming?”

You two, I think. I like that we’re now connected. “I have a house not far from the ranch,” I say. “Why don’t you both stay with me there?”

“My word, that’s generous,” her mother says. “But I need to stay with the animals.” She eyes Abbie. “You stay with Gabe.”

“I can help—”

Her mother catches her arm. “You have, baby girl. The mini-houses are very mini. You two stay where you need to stay to feel good to fight the good fight and get us back our property.” She winks and pats Dexter, who gives her a pleading look.

She eyes Dexter and then me. “He wants to go with you two. Take him. With assholes like Kenneth around, you might need him,” She says no more and then heads for the front door.

“Are you going to fight me and refuse to stay with me?” I ask Abbie.

“No, actually,” Abbie says. “I think you need someone to help you with your new serial killer dog who is too cute to kill anyone.”

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