“All good.” He reached down and stroked his big hand over Ray’s head. Her dog let out a sigh of pleasure. “Anyway, several injured dogs have been found abandoned close to her house recently. All seem to be breeds typically used for fighting.”
“Motherfuckers,” Tracker said while the others wore expressions of equal disgust. Gang members who sold drugs, moved guns, and sold women but had a soft spot for abused dogs. Something didn’t quite add up. She couldn’t decide whether to run for the hills or stick around and see how they could lend a hand in ending the dog fights.
“You go to the cops?” Pulse asked her.
She nodded with a frustrated mm-hmm. “Yes, a friend filed a report after each one. Either the police don’t care or have too many ‘real crimes’ to deal with. So far, no one’s followed up with me about any of them.” Countless dogs, alone and powerless, suffering at the hands of money-hungry abusers.
She shifted. She’d been one. A two-legged victim of a greedy social climber. No one to listen, no one to help her but herself. She refused to let those animals live in lonely misery as she did for so many years.
“Sounds about right,” Jinx said, shaking his head.
“I have a good idea of where the fights are held,” she said. “There’s a farm that abuts the back of my property. It’s sat abandoned for years, but it seems someone purchased it recently. I didn’t even realize anyone was living there because my land runs along the back field, which is acres away from the house and barn.”
“I think I know where you’re talking about,” Tyler said. He paused, running a hand over his mouth. “Out near the edge of town, right?”
She nodded. “That’s right.”
Tyler fingered his lower lip before his eyes widened. “Oh fuck.” His gaze went to Curly’s. “Prick bought that land. Cuz, you said this wasn’t about revenge.”
Brooke’s forehead scrunched. Aside from Tyler, the rest of the guys seemed as clueless as she was. Sure, she’d known Curly hadn’t held any love for Prick, but revenge? What the hell was that about?
“It’s not,” Curly answered with a lethal tone she’d yet to hear from him. As though to combat the grave turn of the conversation, he stepped up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, stroking her skin with his thumbs. She jumped at the initial contact, but the move was so smooth and natural any of the men there would think he’d been touching her for years. Brooke fought to keep her eyelids from dropping as the heat of his palms warmed her shoulders. How could such an innocent touch feel so good? She wanted to arch her back and let out a purr. No wonder Ray was such a slut for rubs from this guy. His hands were incredible.
Revenge? “What does he mean, revenge?” she asked around the thickening in her throat.
As he answered, Curly stared down at her. The rest of the men faded away until they were the only two remaining in the kitchen. Brooke shivered. If he ever turned that intensity on her in a more sensual manner, she’d combust on the spot.
And she’d be in massive trouble because, without a doubt, she could not handle a man like Curly. Hell, she couldn’t handle a rich mama’s boy when she had him. What the hell would she do with a dangerous man like Curly?
Though in her defense, her ex had been a raging narcissist with anger issues.
Still massaging her shoulders as though he belonged there, Curly said. “Prick was my club brother, and he participated in framing me for Joy’s murder. He’s one of the main reasons I spent thirteen years caged for a crime I didn’t commit.”
Brooke lost the ability to breathe. “Framing?” she whispered. Nothing she’d read indicated someone framed him for the girl’s murder.
The statement landed like a bomb in the room, exploding the men into action.
“What the fuck?” Jinx yelled as he shot to his feet. “You fucking serious? That’s some bullshit. He was your goddammed brother.”
He’d filled Ty in on this, but still, his cousin practically shook with fury.
“Fucking hell,” Tracker shouted.
Even Lock, who hadn’t said much of anything, expressed his outrage with a shout.
Eventually, Curly lifted a hand, and the group settled. When his palm landed back on her shoulder, she nearly moaned in relief. The loss of contact had shaken her almost as much as his admission. “I don’t want to get into all the