"So, you’re hungry," Gregory Dawson said, leaning close to Levi Brooks with a wicked smile. "Then you can starve. You and your cat can starve to death together."
Levi Brooks’s face paled. He gritted his teeth. "Gregory Dawson, what are you getting at?"
"Don’t you get it?" Gregory Dawson propped a foot on the bed, a twisted amusement in his voice. "It’s not like there’s nothing for you to eat."
He wiggled his toes, then thrust his foot toward Levi Brooks’s mouth. "Go on, eat. Not just anyone gets the honor of eating my toes."
Renee Jennings and the others couldn’t make out their conversation, but their brows furrowed as they watched the scene unfold.
’Zephyr said this freak would make his friend lick his toes. He was actually telling the truth...’
Levi Brooks turned his face away in disgust, growling, "Gregory Dawson, you’ve gone too far!"
"Have I?" Gregory Dawson ground the sole of his foot into Levi’s face. "I’m not the one who’s gone too far. Your Brooks family is."
"That’s enough! The Brooks family has no quarrel with you!" Levi Brooks’s voice rose in protest. "We’ve never done anything to hurt you!"
At these words, a vicious look flashed across Gregory Dawson’s face. He suddenly kicked out, sending both Levi Brooks and the chair he was tied to crashing to the floor.
Levi Brooks hit the ground, his body trembling with pain. His brows were knitted in agony, and a potent mix of indignation and despair washed over him.
’Am I really going to die here, just like this, without any explanation?’
’No.’
A determined glint flashed in Levi Brooks’s eyes. He strained his voice and screamed for help. "Help! Somebody help me! Help...!"
Hearing his cries for help, Gregory Dawson’s expression darkened instantly. "Are you fucking asking to die?"
He squatted in front of Levi Brooks, grabbed him by the collar, and smashed a fist into his face.
The bed blocked the view of their bodies, so the camera could only capture Gregory Dawson’s hand rising and falling, over and over.
Michelle Fuller frowned. "Is he going to kill him?"
Sean Fuller looked just as worried. "It hurts just watching."
Henry Stark’s brows drew together. He picked up his phone to call Zachary Conway and Levi Hollis, who were on their way to the scene, but just then, Gregory Dawson stopped.
He stood up, panting as he sized up Levi Brooks. He gave him two more vicious kicks, then laughed with satisfaction. "Levi Brooks, you never dreamed you’d see the day you’d be under my boot, did you?"
Gregory Dawson tore off another piece of tape and slapped it over Levi Brooks’s bleeding mouth.
Apparently worried the blood would keep it from sticking, he picked up the roll of tape again and wrapped it twice around Levi’s mouth and the back of his head.
"A perfect fit," Gregory Dawson said, then walked out of the room, satisfied.
Still tied to the chair, Levi Brooks could only lie on his side on the floor.
His back was to the bed. From underneath it, he heard a trembling meow.
The timid, pure-white Napoleon cat cautiously poked its head out. "Meow? Master, are you okay?"
Levi Brooks couldn’t make a sound to answer, nor could he turn to face his cat.
He could only scream silently in his heart: ’Dumpling, I’m sorry. I couldn’t protect you.’
Dumpling went to Levi Brooks and, with a trembling little paw, began to bat at the black tape over his mouth.
"Meow? Master, what can I do to help you?"
Levi Brooks couldn’t understand what Dumpling was meowing, but he could feel the cat’s anxiety and worry.
He understood. He understood it all. In an instant, hot tears streamed from the corners of his eyes, splashing onto the floor.
Dumpling couldn’t help Levi Brooks. All it could do was curl up beside him, quietly keeping him company.
Zephyr didn’t see this touching scene. He just heard Dumpling’s cries and suddenly had an idea. He let out a series of coos.
"Hey, pal. How about you come out and talk to me?"
Probably afraid Dumpling hadn’t noticed him, Zephyr also tapped his beak against the windowpane.
Dumpling’s ears twitched. The cat’s eyes snapped open warily.
’Who’s talking?’
’Is it that horrible human?’
Dumpling looked around in terror.
Zephyr called out, a little impatiently, "Hey! It’s not often I feel like doing a good deed. If you don’t cooperate, there’s no way I can save your master."
’Save my master!’
Those three words were like a switch flipping inside Dumpling.
It followed the sound and spotted Zephyr outside the window.
The fur on Dumpling’s back instantly stood on end. Its tail went rigid, and its eyes widened in terror. It backed away, a trembling hiss escaping its throat.
This was a cat’s innate warning instinct; it could feel the intimidating presence of a raptor, even through the glass.
"Hey, don’t back up," Zephyr said, exasperated. "I’m here to help your master."
Hearing that, Dumpling froze. It asked warily, "Meow? Can you really help my master?"
Zephyr said with great solemnity, "Of course. I have a human friend who loves sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. She can definitely help your master."