Page 13 of Devastate Me

Noah was sittingon the couch that backed up to Colt’s living room window. His tail wagged as he saw Ophelia’s car pull into the driveway. Colt scratched the dog behind the ears.

“She must have made a run to the store,” Colt explained to the German shepherd. The rain outside was coming down hard enough that visibility was poor. He had seen only Ophelia’s car lights, but it was enough to know it was her.

Lightning flashed a moment later as an old sedan with no lights on pulled into Ophelia’s driveway. Noah whined and shifted restlessly before he suddenly growled low at the back of his throat. Colt waited for the next flash of lightning, wondering who Ophelia had over. Then he saw two men run into her open garage. Every instinct warned him that Ophelia was in danger. He ran to the front door, opened it, and shouted a command at Noah.

“Protect!”

The dog shot out the door, and Colt was right behind him. Noah would protect Ophelia. He had been trained well with that command. God help whoever tried to hurt her now, because the dog would tear them apart.

Colt reached the garage and saw the open door into the house. Inside he heard a man scream and Noah snarling. The report of a gun made Colt flinch as he crept into the house. His breathing was fast out of fear for Ophelia, but his instincts were still good, and his fists were ready for anything. As he peered around the wall into the living room, he saw the shattered flat-screen on the floor and one man struggling with Noah. The dog had a hold on the man’s arm and was hanging on for dear life.

“Shoot him, Randy!” screamed the man Noah was biting. The other man held a gun and was trying to find a way to shoot the dog to free his friend from the dog’s bite, but Noah was jerking and tugging on the arm, making it hard for the second man to aim at him without shooting the first man.

“I can’t! I might shoot you!”

Colt charged the man with the gun from the side and took him down like he was sacking a quarterback. They hit the ground, and the gun was knocked from the man’s hand. Colt hit the man twice before the sound of Noah yelping pulled his attention away. Noah still hung on to the other man’s arm, but the man held a bloody knife.

Colt surged to his feet and jumped the second robber, grabbing his wrist in one hand and his neck with the other, crashing his head against the wall. The man’s eyes rolled back into his head, and he slumped to the ground.

“Release,” Colt ordered the dog. Noah let go of the man’s arm, and thankfully he didn’t seem to be gravely injured. “Find Ophelia, Noah.” The dog started sniffing, and Colt drew in a deep breath as he pulled his cell phone out and dialed 911.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“My neighbor was attacked by two men. I brought my therapy dog, and we stopped them. I need the police and an ambulance.” He was breathing hard as he followed Noah into Ophelia’s bedroom. He saw her legs sticking out from the other side of the bed and nearly dropped his phone as terror swept through him.

“Do you see your neighbor? Is this person hurt?”

“I just found her. Hang on.” He put the phone on speaker as he came around the bed. Ophelia was lying on her side, her hands bound with an electrical cord that had been ripped from a lamp off her nightstand. A dishcloth was stuffed into her mouth, and her face was bruised and bloody. Cuts and scratches covered her bare legs.

“Sir?” the emergency operator spoke to him.

Colt knelt and pulled the sock from her mouth, then checked for a pulse. His hand was shaking, and his blood was pounding so hard that it took a few seconds for him to calm down. Her pulse was steady but not as strong as it should be.

“My neighbor ... she’s unconscious. They bound and gagged her. They beat her bad. Please, get that ambulance here,” he pleaded. Noah limped closer, sniffing at Ophelia’s sandal-clad feet. He whimpered softly before he lay down.

“Police and an ambulance are on the way. What is the status of the two men who attacked your neighbor?”

“Unconscious. I’m former military. I subdued them.” His tone reverted to how he would have spoken to his old commanding officer.

“Stay there. Officers are approaching the residence now.” The sound of sirens grew louder. Colt remained where he was on the floor of Ophelia’s bedroom, one hand on Noah’s collar and the other on Ophelia’s wrist to keep monitoring her pulse.

“Here!” he shouted when he heard officers calling from the doorway of the house. “We’re in here!” He waited for the police to enter, the flashlights on top of their guns suddenly trained on him. He already had one hand raised. “I can’t release my dog, not until he feels safe,” Colt explained with a nod to the dog.

“Understood. What’s your name, sir?” One of the officers approached.

“Colt Henshaw. I live next door.” He slowly stood and backed away so the officer could get to Ophelia.

“Rick!” the officer shouted, looking her over. “Check to see where that ambulance is. Now.”

“On it,” the other officer shouted back.

“Can you tell me what happened?” the officer asked Colt.

Colt had just finished relaying the events when the EMTs arrived. They knelt by Ophelia and checked her over, then loaded her onto a stretcher and strapped her down.

“I need to go with them.” He started to leave, but the officer held him back with a hand.

“We need to take a statement first.”

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