The Fight In Us: A Brother's Best Friend College Romance (The Four Book 4) by Becca Steele (little readers .txt) 📕

Not that we could rely on anything. We’d learned that the hard way when everything had happened with Christine.

Winter stayed close, balancing her phone on the crates and setting it to film through a gap, angled at the warehouse doors. She kept up a commentary for me in a low voice, while I circled the drone higher, bringing it over the warehouse roof. I had to switch to night vision here, although it wasn’t fully dark yet. When I lowered the drone to the jagged hole in the roof, it didn’t pick anything up thanks to the dim interior.

“Martin and Portia have turned up together.” A completely inappropriate laugh burst from her before she clamped her hand over her mouth. “Sorry. I just thought of her calling him Marty, and it made me laugh. I don’t know why.”

I flashed her a quick grin, before returning my attention to the screen. “What else? Looks like the lorry is inside the warehouse.”

“They’re going into the warehouse.” She huffed. “I can’t see anything else now.”

I took the drone as low as I dared, almost scraping it along the roof of the lorry that took up all the fucking space inside. “We need to get closer. I can’t see anything.”

“Let’s go. Where are the others?”

Carefully navigating the drone back out through the warehouse roof, I scanned the area. “There.” I angled my head at the screen. Caiden, Zayde, and Cassius were circling the area, gradually getting closer and closer to the warehouse, their aim clear.

“Where’s Lena?”

We both spoke at the same time.

Dread rose in me so fast that I couldn’t catch a breath.

My whole world stopped when I heard the scream.

FORTY-TWO

I’d slipped inside the warehouse as soon as Caiden had given the order to get into position. This was where we needed to be, and I knew the others would be right behind me.

Only, they weren’t right behind me. Seemed like they’d decided to err on the side of caution, scouting the outside area before getting to where the action was. Fuck that. We were wasting time.

Keeping low, I hugged the walls. It wasn’t a huge warehouse, and the lorry inside took up most of the available space. Crouched in the corner, I began filming, watching as Jaroslaw Milosz exited the cab and came around to the back. It appeared that he was alone for now.

Unlocking the back doors of the lorry, he lowered a ramp, then lit up a cigarette, leaving it dangling from his mouth as he clipped the doors into place so they remained open. Whines, growls, and barks reached my ears, and I zoomed in with the camera, debating whether to get closer.

My mind was made up when Jaroslaw stepped back down the ramp and headed outside. This was my chance. No one else was here inside the warehouse with me. Darting forwards, I raced up the ramp and into the black interior of the lorry.

I’d come prepared with a head torch so I could keep my hands free. If only I could’ve used a headcam—but it wasn’t worth the risk if I was caught. My phone was uploading the video to my secure server as I filmed, immediately deleting it from the phone itself. It would do that as long as my phone signal remained. There was no way I was planning on being caught, but if I was, I could plead innocence, and no one would be able to pin any evidence on me.

Precautions. Just as Promethium had drummed into me.

Switching on the torch, I took a moment to get my bearings, then angled my head around so the light shone into the corners. The part of the lorry I was in was stacked with boxes, so I moved deeper inside, following the noises of animals in distress.

There.

A pair of eyes stared out of the bars of a large dog carrier. I watched as the dog lunged for the bars, snapping and snarling. There was already a large smear of blood on the outside of the carrier, and I steeled myself against the sight. I knew I normally came across as confident and able to handle shit, but I’d never lose the sick feeling that bubbled up inside me every time I saw an animal suffering.

I filmed as much as I could, taking care to show the signs of distress, and the chalk markings that denoted which dogs were which—names followed by codes: Gr Ch, Ch, and so on, which showed how valuable they were based on the number of fights they’d won. Then there were the cages with the dogs that had already seemed to give up hope—those destined for the death matches. None of those would survive for long.

Once I’d got all the footage I needed, I slowly made my way back to the exit of the lorry, pausing at the top of the ramp when voices reached my ears. Quickly, I flattened myself against the side, keeping back and waiting to see what would happen.

“Do you have the money?” That was Jaroslaw speaking.

Portia was the one to answer, her voice all faux sweet. I nearly gagged. “Of course.”

Inching forwards, I was able to see her placing her hand on his arm, while Martin kept his arm clenched around her waist. “We are discounting the buyers for the inconvenience. This is your mistake, so we will deduct 20 percent from your payment.”

“No!” His rebuttal was swift and sharp.

“I’m afraid so,” Martin chipped in, with the poorest attempt at a regretful expression I’d ever seen.

Jaroslaw stepped forwards, bristling, and I leaned further out from the side of the lorry so I could get a better view.

At the same time, Portia raised her head and her eyes met mine.

Horror filled her gaze.

And then she screamed.

FORTY-THREE

The scream reverberated around the area, making everyone freeze. Then there was a loud, masculine shout, and I was gone. Thrusting the drone controls