It was close to midnight when Cody and Gray led the surviving dogs back to the kennels while Earl shot the ones that were too badly injured. Marcella sat up when Satan limped into the kennel and rolled up on the ground. Cody said something to her that made her face twist with disgust.
I straightened, ready to rush down there and ram my boot into Cody’s ass. He was pissing me off more every day and unlike Denver, he seemed content to ignore my warnings. His interest in Marcella was getting out of hand. Finally, he walked off in the direction where Earl always shot the dogs, probably to watch eagerly. Marcella said something to Gray and he shrugged.
I narrowed my eyes, wondering what they were talking about. She said more and Gray nodded then he headed to the shed with the dog food and grabbed a handful. I tensed when he handed it to Marcella through the bars, but she simply took it without trying anything. Gray headed back up to the clubhouse, looking pale.
“What did she want?”
“Dog food for Satan.”
“And?”
“That’s it. She asked me if I was okay because I looked sick,” he said, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment.
“Tell Earl you don’t want to watch.”
“I did, but he doesn’t care. Today was really bad.” He shook his head as if he didn’t want to think, much less talk about it.
“I need to drink myself into a stupor,” he muttered and disappeared inside.
I resisted the urge to go to the kennels for a few minutes but then the draw was too strong. Marcella looked up when a twig broke under my boot. She kneeled beside the bars and tossed food at Satan who ate it but was obviously too exhausted to stand and go closer.
“It’s barbaric,” she seethed. “She’s bleeding. There’s a tear in her ear and muzzle.”
“If those are her only injuries, the other dog’s probably dead,” I said. Satan was Earl’s favorite for a reason. She was big for a female, and since she had a litter, which Earl took from her right after birth, she was a vicious fighter within the ring.
“She shouldn’t be forced to fight against other dogs.”
I watched her, not saying anything. The moonlight made her skin glow and her hair shone like petroleum, but what really made her gorgeous in that moment was the caring expression she had for the dog. She slanted me a look, tossed the remaining food toward Satan, and cleaned her palms on her pants before she got up. She approached me with a look that made my fucking stomach flip. She grabbed the bars and peered up at me. “People who enjoy dog fights usually enjoy torturing humans too. I don’t trust Cody and Earl. Do you?”
I laughed. “They are not my enemies.”
“Cody sure is.”
I shrugged. “I can handle Cody.” I didn’t trust Cody, and I trusted Earl to some extent.
“He’s not going to stop coming to the kennels. He’s drawn to me. He can’t stand being rejected. Eventually, he’ll take what he wants, Maddox.”
I knew she was right, but I couldn’t let her make us out to be allies. We weren’t. She was the captive and the daughter of my worst enemy.
She leaned even closer, her voice low. “Do you really want to come down here one day and find out he forced himself on me? Do you want that on your conscience?” I gritted my teeth. “Could you really live with yourself if Cody took what you deny yourself?”
I jerked back, my pulse racing. Her words seemed to sink into me and fester.
“Don’t—” I warned but didn’t even know how to finish the sentence. I whirled around and stalked back to the clubhouse.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Marcella Vitiello was trying to lead me around by the balls to save herself, and I had half a mind to let her try. I risked another glance over my shoulder back at the kennels as I headed toward the clubhouse. She was still pressed up to the bars, watching me. Her hair was a mess and her clothes had seen better days but she looked as if it was exactly meant to be like that, as if she were staging some fancy post-apocalyptic Vogue photo shoot. I gritted my teeth and tore my eyes away. It became harder to ignore her, to forget her. My dreams were completely out of my control by now and after what I’d seen today, things would certainly not improve. But my cock was the least of my problems. Cody’s horniness was the real fucking problem. Seeing her naked would give him a ton of new fantasies he was going to follow up on at some point. I couldn’t let that happen. The reasons for my need to protect Marcella were fucking irrelevant. All that mattered was to get her out of danger. Her father would pay for his sins—not his daughter. Maybe she was spoiled and had led a good life thanks to his rotten character, but that didn’t warrant a punishment, and I was certainly the last person who should judge a person’s blood money.