Read Online Dogfight (Alpha MC: The McKinnon Brothers Book 1) by Alana Hart, Allison Teller - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alana Hart, Allison Teller
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He could let her. She meant nothing to him. She would actually be better off if she could get away. And, if they caught her, she’d be out of his life for good and he could get on with his job.
But, bastard that he was, he went into the hall to intercept her.
Chapter Eighteen
Casey paced in the room Frankie had left her in. He’d given her a long, sensuous kiss, one she tried hard to return, even though she wanted to throw up in his mouth. She had fully expected him to start his interrogation right then and there, but then he’d told her to freshen up and meet him outside for dinner.
The room was huge with pale gray walls and black silk sheets. It took up the entire third floor, and was adorned with an enormous bed, master bath, a sitting area, and a massage table.
She paced the room, staring out each window in turn, until she reached those that looked out back, on the barn.
There was no telling the horror inside from here, but she knew. And she had to get out. She had never seen one of the dogs killed before. Mariam had shown her pictures, and she had looked up plenty, but she had never been there to witness the carnage.
And she never wanted to see it again.
What the hell was she thinking? She couldn’t go up against someone like Frankie Sway. Didn’t Mariam tell her that before she went in as Jenny Cartwright? And now she was stuck here with a man who suspected her of hacking his computer and had just casually watched a dog get brutally murdered.
The sun finally set, blanketing the house and yard in velvety darkness. The only light came from the moon, stars, and the lights inside. She was going, that was it. Connor could take the fall, or tell Frankie it had been her, she didn’t care. She couldn’t stay here another minute. She and Mariam could come back for the dogs together. No, fuck that. They could call the police and report the bastard.
Grabbing her bag, Casey crept quickly from the room and down the stairs. She could walk to the edge of the property, hitchhike for a ride, and then head for Maine.
She was at the top of the landing on the second floor, about to head down to the main floor, when an arm snaked around her waist, pinning her against a hard body, and a hand clamped over her mouth. She knew that hand, that body, and her fear only increased.
She fought hard as he carried her back upstairs to her room. He shut the door, leaning against it, with Casey still held tight in his arms.
“Enough,” he growled into her ear. She understood now why his growl had sounded so animalistic; it wasn’t human. “You know what I am?” he whispered.
She hesitated. She could deny it; he wouldn’t know the truth.
“Casey…” his voice in her ear sent shivers down her spine, whether fear or something else she couldn’t tell.
She nodded.
“Then you know what I can do to you if you try to scream?”
She swallowed hard.
“I’m not going to hurt you unless you give me a reason.”
She nodded again. He moved his hand.
“How do you know?”
She knew what he meant and spoke quietly, afraid to make him angry. “Internet. Old story on Ronan. There was a picture.”
He sighed hard through his nose.
Slowly, he released her. Once free, she stumbled away from him, farther into the room. She had no doubt that if she even opened her mouth to scream, he would silence her. And honestly, did she expect help from Frankie and his crew?
No, she could use Connor to help her get away, couldn’t she? Or was she so expendable?
“Good girl,” he smiled, but there was no humor in his eyes. He glanced at her bag. “Where you headed?”
She shrugged. No use pretending with him. “I’m rethinking this whole mission. Doesn’t feel very safe anymore.”
“Because of me or Frankie?”
She stared at him, her eyes locked with his. Her knees only shook a little. “Both.”
He nodded. She had never truly appreciated how big he was. He wasn’t overwhelmingly tall, but he was wide and muscular, his
But, bastard that he was, he went into the hall to intercept her.
Chapter Eighteen
Casey paced in the room Frankie had left her in. He’d given her a long, sensuous kiss, one she tried hard to return, even though she wanted to throw up in his mouth. She had fully expected him to start his interrogation right then and there, but then he’d told her to freshen up and meet him outside for dinner.
The room was huge with pale gray walls and black silk sheets. It took up the entire third floor, and was adorned with an enormous bed, master bath, a sitting area, and a massage table.
She paced the room, staring out each window in turn, until she reached those that looked out back, on the barn.
There was no telling the horror inside from here, but she knew. And she had to get out. She had never seen one of the dogs killed before. Mariam had shown her pictures, and she had looked up plenty, but she had never been there to witness the carnage.
And she never wanted to see it again.
What the hell was she thinking? She couldn’t go up against someone like Frankie Sway. Didn’t Mariam tell her that before she went in as Jenny Cartwright? And now she was stuck here with a man who suspected her of hacking his computer and had just casually watched a dog get brutally murdered.
The sun finally set, blanketing the house and yard in velvety darkness. The only light came from the moon, stars, and the lights inside. She was going, that was it. Connor could take the fall, or tell Frankie it had been her, she didn’t care. She couldn’t stay here another minute. She and Mariam could come back for the dogs together. No, fuck that. They could call the police and report the bastard.
Grabbing her bag, Casey crept quickly from the room and down the stairs. She could walk to the edge of the property, hitchhike for a ride, and then head for Maine.
She was at the top of the landing on the second floor, about to head down to the main floor, when an arm snaked around her waist, pinning her against a hard body, and a hand clamped over her mouth. She knew that hand, that body, and her fear only increased.
She fought hard as he carried her back upstairs to her room. He shut the door, leaning against it, with Casey still held tight in his arms.
“Enough,” he growled into her ear. She understood now why his growl had sounded so animalistic; it wasn’t human. “You know what I am?” he whispered.
She hesitated. She could deny it; he wouldn’t know the truth.
“Casey…” his voice in her ear sent shivers down her spine, whether fear or something else she couldn’t tell.
She nodded.
“Then you know what I can do to you if you try to scream?”
She swallowed hard.
“I’m not going to hurt you unless you give me a reason.”
She nodded again. He moved his hand.
“How do you know?”
She knew what he meant and spoke quietly, afraid to make him angry. “Internet. Old story on Ronan. There was a picture.”
He sighed hard through his nose.
Slowly, he released her. Once free, she stumbled away from him, farther into the room. She had no doubt that if she even opened her mouth to scream, he would silence her. And honestly, did she expect help from Frankie and his crew?
No, she could use Connor to help her get away, couldn’t she? Or was she so expendable?
“Good girl,” he smiled, but there was no humor in his eyes. He glanced at her bag. “Where you headed?”
She shrugged. No use pretending with him. “I’m rethinking this whole mission. Doesn’t feel very safe anymore.”
“Because of me or Frankie?”
She stared at him, her eyes locked with his. Her knees only shook a little. “Both.”
He nodded. She had never truly appreciated how big he was. He wasn’t overwhelmingly tall, but he was wide and muscular, his
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