T. A. Chase

Investigating and busting dog fighting rings is what Julio Herendez lives to do. Defending the innocent and vulnerable from monsters makes his day, but when he meets Paine, Julio finds himself wanting to save the young man from the cruel world he’d been forced to survive.

Paine Addison exists in a world where the weak and innocent are exploited for entertainment. The men who use him and fight the dogs don’t care about the damage they inflict. He lives from day to day, doing what he can to heal the wounds suffered by others, but unable to help himself.

Julio and Paine meet, triggering a chain of events that rocks both their worlds to the foundations and brings justice for the silent victims.

Excerpt:

No way was he staying there any longer. Not when he had his uncle’s permission to leave. He headed to his beat-up truck and unlocked the door. Before he could climb in, he was grabbed from behind and dragged into the shadows by the side of the hotel. He kicked and fought, but screaming was useless because of the hand covering his mouth.

“BB, settle down. It’s me, Juke.”

BB froze, sure he heard that wrong, but the slightly accented voice whispering in his ear was familiar. He’d heard it several times before talking to the dealer earlier that night. He struggled to turn around, and Juke let him.

He stared up into the man’s dark eyes and swallowed. “What are you doing here?”

“I followed you after the fight.”

Oh, God! Embarrassment swamped BB and he ducked his head, letting his hair block Juke’s view of his face. The dealer knew what was going on. There wasn’t any way he didn’t know Caesar sold BB to that guy.

What did it matter what Juke thought of BB? The dude sold drugs for a living and got his jollies watching dogs tear each other apart for sport. What kind of man would do that? No, Juke was just another monster like his uncle. Yet BB didn’t remember ever seeing Juke stay all night at one of the fights, except tonight. He shook his head. Didn’t mean anything. No one cared about BB or the dogs. He had to deal with all of it on his own.

“What’d ya want? Uncle called. I gotta get back to his place.” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Juke.

Juke checked around the corner before he faced BB again. He scrubbed his hand over his dark hair. BB tried not to stare at the tattoo that danced on Juke’s cheek just below his eye. He knew what that small black teardrop meant and it didn’t fill BB with confidence.

“Don’t go back to his place, BB. It’s not going to be safe for you there.”

BB snorted. “What makes tonight”—he looked up at the lightening night sky— “or I should say today any different? That place ain’t been safe for me in years.”

Juke huffed out a low breath. “Trust me, kid. You don’t want to be there when the shit hits the fan.”

“I ain’t a kid.” He didn’t know why he said that. It wasn’t any of Juke’s business how old he was.

“Fine. I don’t give a shit how old you are. Just don’t go home right now. Some shit’s going down in the next couple of hours, and you don’t want to get caught up in it.” Juke stuffed his hands in his front pockets like he was trying to keep from touching BB.

“Why should I trust you? Where would I go? I got no place else. No other family than my uncle. You think if I did, I’d be living with him, letting him do this shit to me?”

The way Juke eyed him made him nervous. It was like the guy peered into BB’s soul and saw all the dreams he’d buried deeper each year.

“Actually, I think you stay because of the dogs, kid. You could’ve run away a long time ago.” Juke pulled something from his pocket and handed it to BB. “If you need a place, call this number and tell the person who answers Julio told you to call. They’ll give you a place to crash. No questions asked. Nothing owed.”

“Julio?”

Juke’s laugh was harsh and low. “Do you seriously think my mama called me Juke?”

Okay. The man had a point.

“Fine. I’ll call and go there, but what’s gonna happen to Uncle Caesar? How do you know?” BB fidgeted as his nerves started zinging. “It’s got something to do with the dogs, don’t it? Damn, man, I can’t let anything happen to those dogs. It’s not their fault my uncle’s a bastard.”

“True, kid. Don’t worry about the dogs. They’ll be safe soon enough.” A beep came from Juke’s phone and he pulled it out to look at the screen. “I’ve got to go, BB. Please, just call that number. Oh, and Queenie’s going to be okay.”

Relief rippled through him at that knowledge. “Can I see her?”

“Once this all blows through, I’ll get a hold of you and take you to her. How’s that?”

“Dude, you’re not a drug dealer, are you?”

He didn’t dodge as Juke reached out and stroked a finger down his nose. Chuckling, Juke shook his head. “No, BB. I’m not.”

BB nodded, not sure he could speak with as dry as his mouth had suddenly gone. In all his twenty-one years, no one had ever touched him so gently. Not even his mother. Not that his mother had been around much during his life. She’d given birth to him and dumped him on his aunt and uncle before running off with her very own drug dealer.

Before BB’s mind adjusted to what happened, Juke slipped off into the shadows, moving like the predator BB had always assumed he was. He fingered the business card Juke had handed him. He wanted to go back to the kennels, to be there when whatever went down happened, yet he doubted he’d be any help to the dogs.

All his life, he did what he had to do to keep the dogs safe, and none of it mattered. Uncle Caesar continued to fight them. The dogs continued to die, and BB’s heart continued to break. Maybe it was time to step back and try to straighten out his own fucked-up life before he did any more for the dogs.

Juke had said Queenie was all right, and BB trusted the man not to lie to him about that for some reason. Whoever Juke really was, he seemed to be honorable about that. Some spark of hope burned in BB and he found himself thinking maybe God had finally answered one of his prayers. Maybe the abuse would stop and the dogs would be free to be dogs, though BB knew the odds against the canines were huge.

Being raised in an environment like his wasn’t conducive to hopes and dreams. A man survived as best he could and hoped he didn’t meet a bloody end at the hands of another human. He’d done what he had and lived to see twenty-one. At one time, he never believed he’d grow that old.