Page 50 of Reclaimed

It’s tragically short-lived.

The next thing I know, I’m toppling backwards, my head cracking against the hard surface as I meet the floor. I blink up in a daze, to see Harris standing over me with a scowl on his face.

Blood leaking down the other man’s chin as he whips out a handkerchief and murmurs, “Rabid bitch.”

“Sorry, Aiden,” Harris growls, grabbing on to my leash. “Pets that can’t behave get punished.”

I cry out– first at the pain around my neck as he yanks the leash to force me up, and then again as the shiny toe of his oxford shoe connects with my ribs. I fold forward, catching myself with my palms.

“Let’s go, bitch,” he barks, tugging on my leash.

He leads me across the room, boasting about how some pets need to be beaten into compliance. When I realize he’s not leading me back to the ‘kennel’, but to another door on the opposite side of the room, my body locks up in fear. He just kicks me again, yanking on my leash until I’m following at his heels.

He unlocks the door and yanks it open. It’s so dark inside I can’t even see what awaits me. Not that it matters. He just shoves me forward into the dark.

“I’ll be back to deal with you,” he snarls before the door swings shut, plunging me into darkness.

20

TALON

The truck's engine rumbles beneath me, my foot mashing the accelerator flush against the floor as I take the on-ramp at twice the speed limit. Slade whoops with excitement from the passenger seat, one hand clutching onto the grab handle to brace himself as the Raptor leans into the curve.

At least someone’s having fun.

I could’ve done this alone. Probably should’ve, honestly. But the dickhead refused to provide technical support unless I let him join in on ruining Harris’ weekly poker night, so here we are. Brotherly bonding or some shit.

It’s not that I don’t trust Slade– he’s more than capable when shit gets real. And there aren’t many people I’d rather have at my back. But that’s the problem, I trust him too much.

He’s only four months older than me, so we've literally grown up having each other's backs, and he knows me better than anyone. He knows my tells, and that cyber creep probably knows more than he’d admit about me and what I do.

But if things go sideways tonight, I don’t want him pulling me back before I’m finished. I’m so fucking over The Registry bullshit and the free range elitists it protects, just shitting wherever they wander without consequence. I need an outlet. The urge to dispense violence is clawing at my insides, my pulse ticking in my throat.

“So,” Slade starts. “You gonna tell me what’s so special about this girl?”

My knuckles whiten around the steering wheel as I merge onto the highway, and once I settle into a decent cruising speed, I turn up the radio.

Some annoyingly upbeat pop song pulses through the cab, drowning out whatever else he planned to say. He shakes his head and shifts in his seat, pulling his phone out, thumbs tapping on the screen.

Good, bother someone else.

I keep my eyes on the road, the LEDs from the passing light poles casting shadows around the cab. My phone vibrates against the center console and I glance down to see a notification from Exchange.

Specialist: Slade Pierce, Repo Technician

Services Provided: File Access, Management and Recovery

Amount Owed: $10,000

“Did you fucking invoice me?” I huff, tossing my phone back down.

“Yup,” he says, popping the P like a goddamn child.

I turn the music down, cutting him a sideways glance. “For ten grand?”

“Don’t wanna act like a friend or family, then you don’t get the discount. And I’ll send another one after tonight's field activities.”

“Tonight? You invited yourself.” I flick him a sideways glance.