Page 57 of The Billionaire Who Saved My Cat From The Mafia

Special K is demanding, but I can feel him tremble with the effort to hold back, not come on too strong.

But I want him to.I can handle it.

At least I think I can.

I’m being pushed further into the room.And just as I sense him kick a heel behind him to close the door, Pussy bolts between my legs.Like a shot, she’s outside.

I yank away from Special K and race through the door in my bare feet.“Pussy!”

“Fuck,” Special K spits out the curse.

I spin around, thinking he’s complaining because my cat just ruined the moment.But that’s not it.Not at all.He’s scowling as he scans the trees beyond the camp, still naked from the waist up.

“You should go inside, Frankie.”

“I can’t.I have to get her.”I stand in the darkness, pine needles poking into the bare soles of my feet.I look everywhere for the glint of her pink glow-in-the-dark collar.I listen for the soft tinkle of her bell.Nothing.

“I’ll find her.”Special K’s voice is low and serious.“Go inside.”

A deafening crash to my right freezes my thoughts.“Pussy?”I’m seeing spots.I can’t breathe.If anything happens to that fucking cat…

“Go inside.Now.Grab your revolver just in case.”

“In case ofwhat?”

He shoots me a glare.What I see is sobering.The man’s not fucking around.“Okay, okay,” I say, backing up.Then I turn and run for the door.

I grab the gun, like he said, though I don’t know what I’m supposed to be shooting at.I keep the door cracked open so I can watch, but I’m trembling from my chin to my toes.

“Pussy?”I whisper into the night.

I hear more rustling in the tree line, and in the dying campfire, I watch Special K skulk silently in the direction of the noise.Whatever’s out there is huge.I don’t know how he manages this, but his footfalls make absolutely no sound on the pine needles and twigs.

He slips into the shadows and out of sight.

Suddenly, a deep snuffling sound emerges from the woods, followed by a series of crashes and thuds.I see the pine trees sway as something crashes through the undergrowth.

Then I hear a sound that makes my blood run cold.It’s Pussy.She’s howling in alarm and hissing.

“Please,” I cry out.I’m choking on tears.“Please find her.She’s all I have.”

I collapse in the doorway and pull my knees to my chin, rocking back and forth.I hear nothing.Is Pussy already dead?She can’t be.

She’ll survive.She’s all right.She has to be.It will be okay…

“Reeeaaarwww!”

My cat’s cry cuts through the night air.I gasp.Then I hear a noise so horrific that I can’t even process it.I’m listening to what sounds like actual hand-to-hand combat.I swear I hear Special K’s fists beating someone—or something.I hear him grunt as he lands each punch.

Howls.Snorts.Growls.Thuds.

The whole forest vibrates from this clash.I stand, gun in hand, wondering what the hell I think I’m doing.I can barely point and shoot this thing!Another dancer gave it to me for protection while leaving the club at night, which is fine, but here?In the wilderness?In the dark?

I’m useless.

“MacLaine!”

A terrible high-pitched squeal cuts through the night.It seems to go on forever, and then I hear a crunch, and the ear-splitting cry abruptly ends.Just then, I see a flash of glow-in-the-dark pink through the trees.Pussy’s collar.