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She hit her head hard, crying out.

A little dazed from her fall, she tried to sit up. The coffee pot had smashed on the floor and as she pressed her hand for leverage, glass sliced into her palm, making her gasp. Tears filled her eyes. Even with her hand bloody, she wiped the spit from her face on the apron of her uniform. Her stomach revolted. This was way too much. She was humiliated, broken, and had never felt so alone.

The pain in her head made her dizzy. The entire scene was surreal and she wished it was all a nightmare.

She looked up to see that Hank had her sister and mother in cuffs. Grass crouched beside her. He touched her and it took every ounce of strength not to recoil. She wanted Dog. This was torture. Her mother and sister had done this.

Putting a hand to her stomach, she tried to turn away as she emptied the contents of her stomach onto the floor.

“Sable, I’m here,” Beth said.

“You and your kind have done enough. Don’t you see what you’ve done?” Grass’s voice was filled with contempt.

She wanted to speak up. To tell him to stop being a hypocritical bastard. No words came.

I’m alone.

“We need to get her to the hospital,” Grass said. He helped her up. She was a little unsteady. Her side hurt, as did her head. She pressed a hand to her forehead only to feel something sticky. “As far as I’m concerned, you and your kind are the bad seeds in this town. You need to leave before I make sure your disappearance is more permanent.”

“So, you’re Grass. I don’t think we’ve met,” Forge said.

Why was her head sticky?

Everything seemed a little wonky. People were moving. Were they supposed to move while standing still? She closed her eyes.

The pain in her side increased.

Her head.

Her side.

Her mom had actually spat on her.

This was too much. For all of her mother’s faults, she’d loved her. Right now, though, she was all alone. Worse than an orphan.

Opening he

r eyes, she tried to find Dog.

She wanted him.

Grass’s grip on her tightened and she whimpered.

She found Dog. He stood right next to Forge.

He didn’t look happy. The anger on his face.

Did he blame her?

This wasn’t fair. She hated this. All she wanted to do was close the distance between them and fall into his arms. He’d hold her so well.

“She really needs to go to a hospital,” Forge said.

Turning her head, she looked at her prez.

“My head is wet,” she said, frowning. She touched her forehead and still found more wetness.

Forge moved forward but Grass held up a hand. “If you come any closer, I’ll have Hank write up a restraining order. You people are animals.”


Tags: Sam Crescent, Stacey Espino Breeding Season Erotic