Mr. & Mrs. Norcross - Page 7

“Go,” she urged, setting the chihuahuas down. The two small dogs saw freedom and ran out the door.

Almost there. That’s when she heard a shout behind her.

“There she is!”

Dammit. “Go!” she yelled at the Belgian Malinois.

He hesitated.

“Now!”

He shot out the door like a bullet.

Brynn rushed to follow, but a second later, a hand sank into her hair and yanked her backward.

The door closed with a click.

She bit back a curse. Pain seared across her scalp. She spun around and saw Cray’s thunderous face.

She lifted her foot and kicked him. With a grunt, he flew back.

But he caught himself quickly, growled, and charged at her.

He slammed into her. Brynn was trained, but Cray was bigger than her, and mean.

They whirled, and she punched him.

He rammed an elbow into her side, and pain shot through her, the air rushing out of her lungs.

He shoved her, and she hit one of the cages. The dog inside broke into vicious snarls, throwing itself at the mesh, trying to bite her.

She leaped forward.

Cray grabbed her. “You should have stayed where I put you, cop.”

“Screw you. You’re all going down for the horror show you’re running here.”

He snarled at her, then lifted her off her feet. He tossed her over his shoulder.

Shit. Brynn hung there as he turned, headed back to the warehouse. She quickly moved, sliding her arms around his neck to get him into a headlock. She pulled hard.

“Bitch.” He spun and rammed her into another cage. She tightened her arms. He let her go suddenly, and she fell to the ground.

Then Ronny was there, dragging her up. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Cray charged in, eyes bulging and face red. He grabbed her from Ronny, then wrenched her arm behind her back.

Brynn bit her lip to keep from crying out.

Cray leaned in and sniffed her neck. Her skin crawled.

“Got business to deal with, then I’m taking you back to my place. Got a nice little trailer on a ranch in Livermore.”

Brynn stared straight ahead. She knew that Ed Baker had a ranch in Livermore. She’d guessed he was breeding more than just golden retrievers and labradors out there, like his website said.

No, he was breeding fighting dogs.

“I’m going to tie you down, like we do the breeding bitches.” Cray pressed wet lips to her neck, and she fought not to shudder. “We strap ‘em to a box so they don’t attack the males. No one will hear your screams.”