The Pet🐾 (Completed)

Chapter 7

Ashley

I jolted awake—but I was in a dark room.

I tried to move my hands, but to no avail. They were chained above my head, which caused a major migraine. Probably from when I tripped and hit my head in the stream.

I looked around and saw one window with dim yellow light barely illuminating the cell. It was just enough for me to see the walls around me.

I tried to move my legs, but pain shot through my ribs, and I screamed.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps getting closer. Slow. Measured. They stopped just outside my cell.

"Wakey wakey. No eggs and bakey for you, little girl," a man said devilishly, peering through the barred window.

Oh, who do these guys think they are calling me little girl?

"Oh, bite me!" I yelled.

He leaned back in mock shock. "Oh? Does the kitty cat love to fight? I might just take you up on that offer. Maybe I'll bite you right now."

He slammed his hands against the door, gripping the bars and scaring me.

Why couldn't I have just bought that other dog? Why did I have to buy a fu—cking werewolf?

The man licked his lips, lust in his eyes. But before he could unlock the door, the other man from the car appeared.

"Dean, back upstairs. Now!" he shouted.

Dean quickly brushed past him.

The other man turned to me. "Listen. You shouldn't antagonize him. He will fu—ck you up in an instant with no regrets. Got it?"

These men seem to think I'm just going to sit and take this.

No.

"Or what? You're going to kill me? You can't—because some 'J' person doesn't want me dead for some reason. Now who are you, and where the hell am I?" I demanded.

Rage flashed in his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Ugh. Why are humans such a pain?"

"You're the one who took me! I didn't ask for this!" I yelled.

He slammed his hands against the door again.

"Why did you buy Jasper? None of this would have happened if you hadn't. Why couldn't you just buy a regular dog? Because he's not a regular dog."

"I know he's not. And you're werewolves too. Just like him."

He stepped back, stunned.

"Wait... how do you know? Are you one?" His posture shifted like he was reaching for something behind him.

"Oh yes, I'm totally a werewolf. That's why I ran away earlier—in human form—"

I started coughing.

I looked down.

Blood.

"Oh my God..."

He rushed in with a towel and started wiping the blood from my legs and stomach.

"Um... I—uh... would do your—"

"What? My boobs?" I said, blushing. "Don't worry. I'll live."

He awkwardly wiped my mouth instead.

"I'll be back with water." He set the towel in my lap. "Aim for that if you cough."

He walked out, locking the door.

"I'm keeping the keys. No one else is coming in here."

Damn it. Why couldn't I have run faster? Why couldn't Jasper have saved me?

Where is Jasper?

No. Think. No one is coming. It's on you, Ashley.

I looked up at the chains around my wrists.

No way I'm ripping those out.

I scanned the room. Nothing.

Then my hair fell into my face.

The bobby pin.

"Yes," I whispered.

The chains ran through a loop. If I lifted one arm higher, the other lowered slightly. I raised my right arm and lowered my left enough to reach my hair. My ribs screamed in pain, but I grabbed the pin.

I stared at the lock.

I've never done this. How do you even do this?

I shoved the pin into the lock and twisted it randomly, jiggling harder as seconds passed.

Click.

My heart stopped.

The chains still looked connected—but then I heard the door open.

The man stood there again, holding a cup of water with a straw.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

Think fast.

"Um... my hand itched, and I couldn't scratch it."

Wow. That was terrible.

He just looked confused. "Okay..."

He knelt and held the straw to my lips.

I hesitated. "It's not poisoned, is it?"

He gave me a dry look. "Why would I poison you when I could just snap your neck?"

He smiled.

I drank the whole cup.

Idea forming.

As he stood up, I said, "Um... I need to use the bathroom."

"That's not going to work. You can't digest water that fast."

"It's not that," I muttered. "It's... a girl thing."

He froze.

"Oh. Um. I don't know if we have that... stuff."

"I can just use toilet paper—"

"No need to explain." He held up a hand. "You can go. But the chains stay on."

He unhooked them from the wall but kept them secured around my wrists.

He helped me up—but didn't steady me.

Coward. Too afraid to touch my boobs.

He led me upstairs slowly because of my ribs. At the top, he opened a door and shoved me inside.

"Ten minutes. Then you're back in the cell."

The door shut.

I scanned the bathroom. No windows. Just a toilet, sink, and mirror.

I stepped toward the mirror.

I looked awful. Dirt, leaves, bruises, dried blood. My pajamas were ripped and stained.

I grabbed a towel, wet it, and wiped my face and arms clean. Then I actually used the toilet and flushed.

Back at the mirror, I pulled my hair into a bun using the hair tie from my wrist.

I lifted my shirt slightly.

My ribs were badly bruised under my chest. I poked the spot and immediately coughed up more blood.

I gripped the sink to steady myself.

The door opened.

"Time's up."

He led me back downstairs and put me inside the cell.

"You'll stay unchained from the wall for now. But if I hear or see anything suspicious, you're getting locked back up. Got it?"

I huffed and turned away from the sliver of light coming through the window.