Chapter 223 Chapter 223

Chapter 223 Chapter 223
Kyra POV

“Wait here.” He steps out of the truck and shuts the door before I can say anything. He saunters across the dirt parking lot to an old warehouse and bangs on a dented silver door with peeling paint. I’m not quite sure what we’re doing here, but I have a bad feeling.

Soon a man opens the door and they begin to talk. Tor is doing a lot of pointing to the other side of the warehouse, and he looks pissed.

Furious, actually.

The man is also getting visibly agitated, shaking his head and yelling. I can’t hear what they’re saying from where I’m parked, but it definitely doesn’t look friendly.

I sit in shocked silence when Tor grabs the man by the throat and literally drags him away from the door to around the side of the building, out of sight.

Shit.

My hand clutches the door handle ’til my knuckles hurt. I want to run out there and see what’s going on, but he told me to stay here in his most serious voice. It’s the voice he’s always used when he expects me to listen, no questions asked.

A few minutes go by and I breathe a sigh of relief when Tor appears from around the corner of the warehouse and is walking towards the truck holding something in his hands that looks like a burlap bag with a chain hanging off it. My blood chills as he gets nearer and I realize he’s holding a small dog that isn’t supposed to be small. It’s severely malnourished.

I jump out of the truck as he nears and run over to him. “What happened?” I ask.

“Get the door for me.”

I run to open the back door of his truck and quickly spread a blanket over the seat, and as he gently lays the dog on it I notice the chain is deeply embedded into the dog’s neck, the flesh raw and ugly, oozing blood and yellow infection.

Bile rises to my throat and I cover my mouth. “Oh my God…”

“Fucking douchebag has had this dog chained to the back of his warehouse, with no food or water for who knows how the fuck long. The chain’s been wrapped around his neck for months, slowly strangling him.”

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

He pulls me into his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Angel. I should have warned you about this one. Let’s go, we have to get him to the vets.”

We climb into the front seat and I can’t help but peer in the back seat as we pull out of the parking lot. The dog is so weak he can barely move, and his eyes are lifeless, glazed and defeated. Tears roll down my cheeks as I say a silent prayer for him. This is the worst abuse I’ve ever seen.

“I think he’ll be okay,” Tor says reassuringly, putting his hand on my leg. “I know it looks nasty as hell, but once they get the chain out and clean it up, get him on some antibiotics, and get some food and water into him, he’ll start to slowly recover.”

“You really think so? He looks bad, Tor. Really bad.”

“I know. But I think he’ll pull through. That fucking asshole was warned a year ago when he had another dog chained up back there that another rescue pulled.”

“What did you do to him?” I ask. He dragged the guy away by his throat and I didn’t see him come back.

His eyes shift up to check the rearview mirror, his jawline clenching. “You don’t want to know.”

“Tell me.”

“I cut the chain to free the dog and then wrapped that end around his fucking neck and left him there, chained to the ground like he had this poor dog.”

My heart almost seizes at the ferocity of his voice and actions. Tor can be the sweetest guy in the world, but he’s got a ferocious streak when it comes to abuse of an innocent animal. He wants vengeance.

“Don’t worry,” he says to my gasp. “He won’t die. His buddies will find him. I just want to teach that fucker a lesson. He’ll never hurt another animal again.”

\---

Kyra

Me: Hey you, how is your morning? I love you xoxox

I switch from my message app to a browser app, then back to my text message app to see if it will refresh, but there’s still no reply from Tor, and it’s showing as not being read. I sent the text almost four hours ago, at eight a.m.

We always text each other first thing in the morning, and Tor always replies within an hour. Always.

Even before we were dating, he would always quickly reply to my messages.

I wander through the mall, trying to remElara where all the stores I like are in what seems more like a maze than a group of stores. I don’t shop often, and when I do, Chloe is usually with me and she steers us around the mall like she was born here. I finally find the lingerie store and pick out some new sexy bra and panty sets that I think will make Tor smile. The price tags practically scare me into next week but the fabric is so rich and soft and accentuates my curves much nicer than anything else I own, so I can’t resist buying them.

Next, I find the craft store and load up on paper, ink, and little embellishments like lace, glitter, and gems that I’ve started to add to the paper of my hand-lettered work.

I glance down at my phone again as I wait in line to pay, but there’s still no text from Tor.

When I get to the parking lot, I call his cell phone and leave him a voicemail:

“Hey, honey, where are you? I’m getting a little worried. Call me when you can. I love you.”

I send another text, hoping I’m not being annoying as hell, but I’m worried.

Me: Are you okay? I just bought some lingerie I think you’ll like. ;-) I love you bunches and I can’t wait to see you. xo

I start up my Jeep and my phone rings on the passenger seat next to me just as I’m about to reverse out of my parking spot.

Finally!

I grab the phone with a big smile on my face. “Hey hon, I’ve been missing you all morning.”

“Kyra?”

“Dad?”

Crap.

“Who did you think I was?”

Shit.

“Chloe.”

“Oh. Where are you?”

“In the mall parking lot. I needed a few things.”

He’s silent for a beat. “I don’t want you to panic, okay?”

My heart instantly starts to pound. “Well, Daddy, now I am panicking. What’s wrong? Is it Mom?”

“No, it’s Tor.”

My breath catches in my throat and my stomach plummets as I try to deny the words I just heard.

“Are you there?” he asks.

“Yes…” I swallow over the lump in my throat choking my airway. “Is he okay?”

“He was hit by a car early this morning on his bike.”

I close my eyes tight, horrible visuals running through my mind. “No…”

“He’s going to be okay, I just don’t know exactly what’s hurt yet. I’m at the hospital now with Tavian, waiting for the doctors. They just moved him into his own room. His mom is on her way, too.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“You don’t have to come, Kyra. I know how much you hate hospitals. I just thought you could take care of his pets until he gets home since you spend a lot of time over there doing things for him already.”

“Of course I will. I’m still coming, though.”

“Alright. Drive slow. I can hear you’re upset, and I don’t want anything happening to you, too. He’s in good hands, so don’t worry.”

“I’ll go slow. I promise.”

I end the call and stare out the windshield, frozen. My brain won’t stop chanting. He’s hurt. He’s hurt. He’s hurt.