Tri-Tip (Grade-A Beefcakes 3)

g woman, I have no idea. Tell me where my wife is or I’ll—”

“You don’t want to finish that sentence. I’ll ask you one last time. Step back, walk away and cool off.”

His eyes flared wide and he raised his arm as if to punch me. Before I could react, Honey attacked, her teeth clamping down on the man’s ankle. Deep growls came from her throat. I’d never seen her so aggressive, so vicious.

The man howled, kicked his leg as if to loosen Honey’s clamped teeth. “Shit!” he shouted, reached down and punched Honey in the head.

I took his moment of distraction and the way he was bent toward the dog to push him further even more. With a sweep of his ankle—the one Honey had bitten—I took him face first to the ground.

People were out on the sidewalk now. I had one knee in the middle of his back as he swore and thrashed. I had his hands cuffed behind his back in seconds. I pulled my radio from my hip, but when I looked up, I saw two deputies running down the sidewalk. We were only a block from the station and someone must have called it in.

As he continued to cuss and belittle all women, I had a clear head to notice Honey. She was on her side, whimpering. Tongue hanging out. I couldn’t move off of the fucker’s back, but passersby knelt down and petted her.

I moved to let the deputies lift the guy to his feet.

“Take care of Honey. We’ve got him,” one of them said as they gripped his upper arms and shoved him toward the station.

I dropped to my knees on the sidewalk right beside Honey. “Do you think she’s okay?” I asked. I hadn’t realized how much I cared for the dog until right then. She’d just been following me around, literally hanging out with me, until now. Now I realized she’d been watching out for me. I’d rescued her from the side of the road and she’d taken me on. And now, saved me in return.

A lump of tears lodged in my throat. I was more afraid something had happened to her than what that wife beater could have done to me.

The owners of the fishing and outdoor store we were in front of were checking her out. “We saw what he did,” one said, his tone angry, but his hands gentle as he stroked and soothed Honey. “The fucker. Let’s get her to the vet.”

Right then, a woman went over to the car that was parked at the curb and hastily opened the back door. “My car’s right here. Put her in the back seat,” a woman said, waiting for the men to carefully lift Honey and put her in. “We’ll get her to the vet.”

POE

* * *

I come out of exam room two with Mrs. Mitchell and her cat to discover the small lobby in chaos. Well, not quite chaos, but there were at least six people and only one pet, a tiny dachshund sitting on a woman’s lap. I was used to dogs barking, hissing from cats and even the constant squawking of a bird, but not so many people talking all at once. And at the center of it was Parker.

I said goodbye to Mrs. Mitchell and went over to her, got her attention by placing my hand on her shoulder.

She looked up at me and smiled. In her usual uniform shirt and jeans, her radio was turned low but it was noisy with communication. It had been only a few hours since she’d walked out of the house to go to work, not before she bent over the kitchen counter, pulled down her jeans and showed her men her pussy. Gus had been keeping that sweet treat shaved smooth.

She wasn’t here to play, to continue where we left off that first day back in the kitchen. Something was up.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Honey was protecting me from someone and the guy hit her.”

Jesus. “Is she all right?” I didn’t see her anywhere.

Parker pointed down the hallway. “She’s in one of the rooms with Gus and Kemp, but they said she seemed fine after a quick look. They’re taking x-rays to make sure.”

I sighed, relieved. Honey was a great dog.

“What do you mean she was protecting you?”

“The guy from the domestic dispute the other day approached me on Main Street.”

Holy fuck. That fucker went after her? I went instantly angry. My heartbeat was pounding in my ears and my fists clenched. If I had a little barometer, it would be close to exploding right now.

“Approached?” I asked.

“He was drunk and furious,” Tom, from the sports store said.

Even worse. A drunk wife beater going after my girl.