Page 8 of Vetted for Vengeance
“It’s good enough for your dogs.”
“They have a pillow. And really shitty owners. Which isn’t me, by the way. It’s them.” I point at the brothers, checking wherethe ceiling meets the wall for a blinking camera light. Nothing. “But I guess you know that as I’m not tied down?”
The answer to that will drastically improve or destroy my chances of staying alive until morning.
“You are a strange anomaly to my plans. What should I do with you?”
“I don’t know.” That is the most stupid answer I could have given. I do know. He should absolutely let me live, but my tongue isn’t quite ready to plead for my life. “Maybe I could ask a question instead?”
“Of course. How can I assist you?”
“Is Honey okay?”
“Who or what is Honey?” The voice asks calmly.
“The dog. I was holding a dog.”
“Ah yes. She is back safe and perfectly well in her bed, awaiting the arrival of the day staff.”
“Day staff,” I chuckle humorously. “I am the day staff. And the night staff. And the weekend cover. I’m everyone except the people who get paid.”
“What is your name? Who are you?” The voice asks sternly, as if that answer is somehow inconvenient.
“My name is Noah. As for who I am, I'm the guy who opened the door for you.”
“Why? Why would you do that?” The voice doesn't rise with the question. He's interested, but not surprised.
“Because someone should care about the dogs. They over-breed the dogs for profit and don't care about them beyond their value. That's why I opened the door. I thought you were there because of the dogs. I thought you were there to save them.”
“So you were carrying the dog to help me?” There’s a hint of amusement in the faceless voice.
I hesitate, resting my hand on the corner of Frank’s table to steady my body.
“Yes. Was I stupid to think you were a good man?”
For a while there is nothing, just me straining to hear his next comment.
“So what happens now?” I'm here, like it or not. He’s already decided what happens to me. He isn’t going to let me live now he's brought me here. But I have to finish my goal. I let him in to save the dogs, and I'm not dying this close to that outcome.
“What do you want to happen now?”
“I'd like the dogs saved. Home the puppies, and let the mummies retire and live happily for the rest of their lives. They’ve done enough. No one is going to find them unless you tell them the dogs are alone.”
“I meant about you.”
“I'm in a locked room somewhere with a mysterious captor. I'm not really in a position to decide. But you have the power to save the dogs.”
“Why do you think that?” He’s testing me now.
I can't hold back my chuckle and then shrug. He can see me; the alternative is that he was talking randomly to the room, waiting for someone to wake up.
“Do you want to die?” The voice asks bluntly.
“No. I do not want to die.” I make that perfectly clear. “Is there anything I can do to make that possible?”
“Answer my questions.”
“Okay. Please. Ask me anything.”
