Chasing Her Tail (27 page)

She really, really wanted to smack this guy. Hard. Bridget fought to hide her impatience. “Well yours would definitely be real.” She stroked her hands down her sides, turning as she squeezed her ass cheeks. Watching him over her shoulder, Bridget knew the second he capitulated.

“I’ll do it,” he agreed. “I have to call from the main desk though. Stay here.”

“I’ll be here,” she cooed as her knees went liquid with relief. “Even if I wanted to leave, I couldn’t without going by you, right?”

“Yeah, that’s true,” he conceded, although he shot a suspicious look at her as he walked slowly toward the door.

Bridget blew him a kiss. “Hurry back,” she called after him.

As the lab door swung shut behind him, Bridget forced herself not to break character. Although she was dying to wrap the blanket from the bed around her, she knew he could see her on the monitor connected to the camera in her cage. Holding her position by the wall closest to the door, she waited.

Micah wriggled, trying to straighten his leg as a cramp gripped his hamstring.

There wasn’t enough room to move an inch, much less extend his leg completely.

“What’s wrong?” Hammer demanded in a whisper, gripping Micah’s hip to hold him still.

“Cramp,” Micah grunted, sucking air between his teeth as Hammer’s fingers closed on the seizing muscle, massaging so deeply that it almost hurt worse than the cramp did. Gradually, though, the muscle began to relax and the hand on his leg softened.

“Better?” Hammer asked, his mouth close enough to Micah’s ear to send a puff of air into it. Micah wiggled again, although this time it wasn’t because of a cramp.

“Be still,” Hammer ordered, his fingers digging into Micah’s hip. “You’re driving me crazy.” To illustrate, he pressed his groin against Micah’s ass.

His breath catching in his throat, Micah couldn’t stop himself from pushing back against the ridge of Hammer’s cock. He heard Hammer stifle a groan.

“Really?” Hammer asked. Although his voice was amused, it was rough around the edges. “There’s hardly enough room to breathe, much less fuck in here.”

“You started it by poking me with that thing,” Micah told him in a breathless whisper. “Think of what a great story it’d be.” He was punchy from a sleepless night and the stress of the previous day. Grinding back against Hammer’s stiff cock, Micah pulled the other man’s hand from his hip and pressed it against his own growing erection.

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“You’re evil,” Hammer muttered, nipping at Micah’s ear. “You know this is physically impossible right?”

“I know we can’t actually fuck,” Micah agreed, although his hips didn’t stop the small, circular rotations against the bulge of Hammer’s cock. Even though their skin was separated by two layers of jeans, it still felt damn good.

“Great.” The trace of humor was back in Hammer’s voice. “So we’re going to do just enough to drive each other crazy?”

“If that’s okay with you,” Micah said. Some heavy petting was a nice distraction.

His brain was buzzing and had been for the past twenty-two hours. He envisioned scenario after scenario, imagining Sam and Bridget in that warehouse, trapped and scared, possibly hurt. Who knew what Carlson was doing to them?

“Okay,” Hammer agreed amiably enough, his hand rubbing, moving the denim over Micah’s cock.

With a soft groan, Micah closed his eyes. Keeping them open wasn’t about to do him much good in the dark anyway.

“Think they’re okay?” he asked.

Hammer went still. “Yeah,” he finally answered. His hand left Micah’s erection, moving to smooth Micah’s hair from his face. “Think of how much money and time and effort Carlson’s spent on finding them. It wouldn’t make sense to hurt them.”

“Shit,” Micah muttered. “They’re probably terrified. Think they’re together? What do you think he’s doing to them?”

“Stop.” He gave Micah’s shoulder a shake. “This isn’t helping. We’re getting to them as fast as we can. Try to concentrate on that.”

“Easier said than done,” Micah grumbled and then sighed. “You know, when Sam told me what he’d done, I was horrified.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” Hammer ran a comforting hand up and down Micah’s arm.

Shifting under his touch, Micah continued, “There was a part of me that…shit.”

“What?”

The darkness gave Micah the courage to continue. “A part of me was…excited. That she was going to be like me and maybe I could have a normal relationship for once.”

Hearing it out loud made it seem worse. “How fucked up is that?”

“Understandable,” Hammer told him. “One-night stands must get old after a while.”

“Yeah,” Micah admitted. “I might lose my player status for saying that but it’s true.

Plus it’s hard with Sam. I just can’t seem to get this parenting thing down.” He squeezed his eyes closed. “And now he’s missing…”

“Listen to me,” Hammer ordered, giving Micah’s shoulder another shake. “Knock it off. I’m sure you’re a good dad. We’re getting him back. Him
and
Bridget. After that, you won’t be able to get rid of us. So enough with the self-pitying shit, okay?”

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Katie Allen

Micah had to laugh. “You’re right. I just can’t turn off my brain. Especially when there’s not much to do in here.”

“We could go back to what we were doing before,” Hammer growled suggestively, making Micah smile.

“Sure,” Micah agreed. “Why n—”

Hammer clamped his hand over Micah’s mouth, cutting off his words. Straining his ears and cursing his human hearing, which was so much worse than his canine hearing, Micah heard the muffled tap of shoes on concrete. There was a click and then their dark hiding place listed slightly to the left. There was a
whump
as a door closed, followed by a grinding whir of a small motor. After a few moments, a car engine turned over.

Micah felt his heartbeat accelerate as they began to move.

The seconds ticked by endlessly. Doubts began to creep into Bridget’s mind. What if he decided it wasn’t worth it? What if he couldn’t get the fire started? What if the alarm didn’t go off? Her teeth worried her lower lip as she fretted.

The alarm blared and she jumped, letting out a small shriek. Recovering quickly, she reached over to grab the blanket, doubling it over and wrapping it around her beneath her arms so that she could move unencumbered.

The door to her cage slid open and she stared at it for an open-mouthed second, amazed that her plan actually worked. Her brain clicked in again and she flew through the opening.

“Sam,” she called quietly and he jerked, turning toward her. It looked like the alarm had woken him up already. “Come with me. Hurry.” She tried to keep her voice calm but she was shaking.

His eyes went wide. “Ms. Grace?”

She forced a smile, resisting the urge to look over her shoulder to see if Ricky had returned. “Yes, sweetie. Now hurry!” Crouching at his open cage door, Bridget held out her arms to him and he flew toward her, hurling himself against her. She grunted at the impact that almost knocked her over but managed to stay on her feet.

“Listen to me, Sam,” she told him in an urgent whisper. “We need to go now. Do exactly as I say, okay?”

He nodded without looking up, the top of his head bumping against her chin.

“Good.” She untangled his arms from around her and stood up, tucking her improvised dress in where Sam’s hug had loosened it. Taking his hand, she turned toward Night’s cage—and froze.

Night had already left his opened cell and was standing three feet away from them.

No wonder he smelled different,
Bridget thought, swallowing hard, her hand tightening around Sam’s.
He’s a freaking
wolf
!

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Her breathing quickened until it came in pants, hard and fast. She stared at his yellow eyes, trying to think. What was she supposed to do if she encountered a wolf?

Make herself look bigger? Curl into a ball? Back away slowly? It didn’t really matter, since all her body was capable of doing was standing right where she was, frozen in place.

Giving her a look, Night turned away and padded toward the door. Bridget blinked. Had that look actually been
scornful
? Letting out her breath in a shaky huff, she hurried after him, towing Sam behind her.

Could he be a person?
she wondered.
If people can turn into dogs, why not wolves too?

She reached the door and turned the knob, easing it open just a crack. Jamming a wad of blanket into the space to keep the door open a few inches, she bent to whisper in Sam’s ear.

“Ready to change?”

At his nod, she slipped back into dog form. Sam wiggled out of his pajamas and changed as well. She nuzzled the top of his head. Night appeared even bigger and more menacing to her in this form but he wasn’t even looking at them. All of his attention was concentrated on the cracked-open door.

The blanket had fallen away from her as she’d changed, the wad continuing to hold the door open. Shoving her muzzle into the space, she peeked through. There was a short hallway that opened into another room. Although she couldn’t see the desk holding the security cameras or Ricky, Bridget could hear him talking.

“…just a short or something,” he was saying. “I’ve been through the building and there’s no smoke or fire or anything.”

She nudged the door open, using her body as a doorstop to hold it wide enough to allow Sam and then Night to slip through. Bridget allowed it to close on the blanket, preventing the soft click of the latch from giving away their escape.

At the end of the short hallway, Night flattened his belly against the floor and peered around the corner. Pulling his head back, he looked at Bridget and gestured toward the room in a way that she took as an “all clear”.

He’s definitely human then
, she thought, turning toward Sam. Using her muzzle, she nudged him back into the corner between the doorjamb and the wall, as far away from Ricky as she could get him without shoving him back into the lab. Giving him a steady stare and hoping he understood it to mean “stay”, Bridget turned back to discover that Night had already slipped into the other room.

She copied him, lowering her body to the ground and peeking around the corner.

From this angle, the U-shaped desk appeared huge. Night was crouched low, using the desk for cover. He slipped around the corner to the far side of the desk and disappeared from view.

“Yes sir,” Ricky was saying, his back turned away from her. Bridget knew she still had to be cautious. If he even turned his head, he could manage to glimpse her in his peripheral vision. They were so close—she couldn’t wreck their escape now.

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Katie Allen

Staying low, Bridget eased around the corner and darted toward the desk, grateful for the commercial-style carpet that muffled any sound her toenails might have made.

Following Night’s example, she flattened her body against the desk, using it to hide her from Ricky’s view. Flanking the outline of the faux-mahogany side, she moved silently toward Ricky, who was still talking on the phone.

“No sir,” he said. “They’re fine. Last I checked, they were still sleeping.”

She heard the tapping of his fingers as he listened to whoever was on the other side of the call. Bridget tried to listen but the sound was muffled, probably because the phone was clamped so tightly against Ricky’s ear. She could smell the lust on him, the lust and anxiety.

“I don’t know how they slept through the alarm,” he muttered. “They just—fuck!”

He broke off, the scent of his lust fading and the anxiety shifting to straight-up fear.

Bridget risked poking her face around the corner of the desk to get a glimpse of Ricky.

The guard was standing motionless, facing the camera monitors, phone dangling from his hand and his mouth open. Bridget followed his fixed stare to see the black and white views of three cages—their three
empty
cages.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” he hissed out, turning toward her as if to bolt into the lab. When he saw Bridget he scrambled backward, fumbling for the gun on his belt. Behind Ricky, Night leapt over the opposite side of the desk onto the security guard’s back, knocking him to the floor.

Bridget changed, reaching for the gun at Ricky’s belt almost before her paws turned back into hands. Her fingers closed around the grip of the gun, yanking it free with such force that she flew backward. The gun went off with a spitting sound and she sucked back a shriek, terrified that she’d shot someone.

Night was staring at her with a look of utter exasperation. His legs wobbled and he toppled to his side. Bridget rushed toward him, reaching for the dart that had penetrated his fur and lodged in his chest.

“Sorry!” she gasped, pulling the dart free of his skin and tossing it aside. A hand closed around her ankle and tugged, yanking her off her feet. Twisting around, she pointed the gun at Ricky and fired, actually aiming this time. His fingers loosened almost instantly and he went limp, still beneath the unconscious body of Night.

“Great,” she sighed, looking at the black wolf. How was she supposed to get him out now?

Deciding to deal with things one at a time, Bridget lifted the phone receiver from where it dangled on its cord. The person on the other end was talking, asking what was going on. She pushed down the button on the phone to hang up. When she put the receiver to her ear, there was just silence. Her breath caught—had someone cut the phone line?

She immediately felt stupid as she realized that she had to push one of the buttons to get an outside line.

When the dial tone buzzed in her ear, Bridget dialed 9-1-1.

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“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?”

“Please help!” Bridget told the woman. “Bart Carlson is keeping me captive in a warehouse!” Without waiting for the operator to respond, Bridget placed the receiver on the desk, hoping the police could trace the call. She stared at the phone for a moment, wondering if she should find another phone so she could call Hammer or Micah. She knew she had to get out, quickly, before Carlson’s guys started arriving. If she and Sam and Night were tossed back in their cages and hidden away in the lab, it would be easy for Carlson and his men to put off the cops, to explain the call away as a prank.