Hanging On (Jessica Brodie Diaries #2)(32)

After William had gotten the gun away from me, the police showed up, followed shortly by Tom and Scotty, the lawyer. Apparently William had a panic button on his phone—all the Davies kids did—and when Tom heard what was happening, he looked up the location via GPS and alerted the authorities, Adam and the lawyer. Adam and Moose got there first because they knew the location, helping the others by leaving flares at the turns.

Originally William had been trying to stall, waiting for help to arrive. That was before Dusty deciding he didn’t need to leave William alive. And it was clear when I looked back on it—Dusty had nothing left to loose.

It turned out he’d robbed a gas station then stole a car before he even made it to us. He’d planned to rape me, something I couldn’t think about without shivering, but hadn’t thought about William until he was faced with him. He probably thought the second man would take care of it, and when that didn’t work out, figured he would off us both and get the hell out of dodge. We’d been lucky. For me, that was twice. It was more luck than I usually had. I couldn’t help but think I was on borrowed time.

The worst thing about that night was being separated from William to tell my version of events. Scotty, being dy***ite at his job, somehow made it so we didn’t have to head to the police station. He couldn’t stop the questioning, though, and he couldn’t keep William and I together. Or maybe he didn’t want to, because I was a poor mess of a girl as I stood in my brown blanket, makeup all over my face, hair disheveled, barefoot, because I was having a hard time balancing on heels in my state of disorder, and crying hysterically. I was probably the star witness. I was showing well in a lawyer’s eyes; there was not one man that didn’t want to pick me up and whisk me away to safety, cops included. I was treated with kid gloves throughout the questioning, had pictures taken of the extensive damage, and then given into Tom’s care without further debate.

Tom then passed me off to Adam so he could look after his son. Adam nearly squeezed my insides out until it was Moose’s turn to hang on to me, and then I could barely breath.

They did finally finish with William. He’d done some serious damage to both Dusty and the other guy. Serious damage. The nameless guy would need surgery, but still might never walk properly on that leg again. Dusty nearly died. If I was a betting woman, I would say that was the reason Scotty made sure every cop there talked to me without William present. William was my strength—not Tom, not Adam, not Moose, certainly no cop. Without him, I was a shaking, terrified mess. Afraid one minute for my safety, afraid the next for William’s. Through my fear-induced haze, I could see the compassion on all the faces I talked to; they hated to see a woman look like I did. As men, those police would do anything in their power to stop it. Like William had.

Scotty knew what he was about, and to keep William safe, I would play my part. When I finally felt his arms again, though, I completely let myself go. I curled up into him and let my mind shut off into a catatonic stupor. I had nothing left.

I had a long list of terrible first dates, but this one took the cake. Absolute worst first date in history. Truthfully, I might never accept another date from William again.

“Wait Jess,” William said as I stepped out of the car.

It was then that I noticed the dog. Hard not to—it was huge. And a Doberman Pincher. Huge and scary.

“He needs to smell you.”

I nodded and waited patiently, no explanation desired. Icing—a dog bite. Who was I to say boo?

When William put his arm around me, I let him lead me toward the house on numb legs. Tom waited long enough for us to get in before he climbed back in the car.

“Do you want to go straight to bed, Jessica, or would you like to watch TV or something?”

“Can we get in the hot tub?”

“Anything you want, love.”

“Do you have any alcohol? Anything will do.”

“Of course. Champagne or something stronger?”

“Stronger.”

We stopped by the kitchen and got Scotch, then went out the door to the hot tub. We were met by two more of the same breed of dog. Apparently there was a pack of them, and were let loose to roam the property. I wondered if this was a normal thing, or a tonight specific thing.

William answered my question without me having to ask, “I breed Blue Healers and Doberman Pinchers. Blue Healers are suburb cattle dogs, so naturally I wanted to work with those. Doberman just plain fascinate me. They guard the ranch when we’re not here.”

He paused long enough for us to each unceremoniously strip our clothes and get into the tub. He poured the Scotch and floated in beside me, putting an arm around my shoulders.

“They are an extremely loyal breed and incredibly smart and trainable. However, you need to be firm on discipline and a commanding leader to earn their respect. A soft hand with a Dobie and the dog will walk all over you. Once you are their top dog, though, the alpha, they will lay down in traffic to see you safe.”

It occurred to me William was just talking to fill the silence, and it soothed me to hear his voice.

“A lot of people think they are mean and evil. And I supposed they would be to someone that is trying to do their master or family harm, but these dogs are playful big dopes most of the time. Great family dogs if the owner is responsible and knows the traits of the dog. Like any working dog, obviously.”

“What do you mean ‘working’ dog?”