Page 60 of Rules of Engagement

Jocko

The screaming stops, and she freezes. She looks up at me, terrified again, searching my eyes. “Is he dead?”

I smile. “No. He's fainted from the pain.” I glance over at Lucifer, and her eyes follow.

“Are you sure? He looks dead.”

“If he was dead, Luce would let go.”

“Oh. That's good to know.”

I pull her into my arms again and hold her. “Jorja, I’m going to grab a blanket to wrap you up in. Sit right here. Don’t move.”

“I’m not cold.”

“You're in shock. Trust me.” When I stand, she draws her legs up and cuddles herself. “Close your eyes. Don’t look. I'll be right back.”

She nods.

I see the knife lying on the floor and secure it. I double-check Lucifer’s bite. His long canine teeth are sunk to the gums in the arm of the motherfucker who was going to rape my girl. I pat him on the back. “Good job, buddy.”

He looks at me for a command to release, but I don’t give it yet. Hurrying into the bedroom, I snatch a blanket off the bed and rush back to Jorja.

“Okay, Babe. Look at me.”

She opens her eyes, and I offer my hand. She takes it, and I can still feel her trembling as I pull her to her feet. Wrapping the blanket around her, I shield her with my body and walk her past the blood and chaos to the car. I open the back door and tell her. “Get in and wait.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t look.”

She nods as she climbs in the backseat. I close the door and dial 911 to report what happened. Then I toss the knife on the hood and set about securing the two thugs.

The perp I knocked unconscious lays face down in a pool of his own blood. Grabbing him by his shirt and pants, I lift him up. Two teeth are left behind as I tote his unconscious body into the room. I set him down beside Lucifer.

“Luce, let go.”

He blinks, shakes his head viciously one more time for good measure, spraying blood from the mangled mass, then he opens his mouth and releases the arm. It flops to the ground.

He’s bloody, so I quickly check his body for injuries, but it isn’t his. I praise his courage, bravery, and loyalty. “Good boy. Good job, Lucifer. You nailed the motherfucker. Excellent work, buddy.” Then I tell him to, “Sit. Guard.”

He sits—ears alert. Eyes focused. Tongue hanging out. Hassling from the effort. But fierce.

I roll the perp over and stare at him. I’m trained to maintain calm on the battlefield, but this is entirely different. I’m tempted to stomp his fucking cock and bust his goddamn balls, but I hold my temper in check. The rules of engagement in the civilian world are different. Instead, I lift him by his shirt, examine his wound, making sure Lucifer didn’t sever an artery. The last thing we need is for him to bleed out, then I rearrange his nose for him, plastering my fist in his face, just for good measure. The sound and the feel of his facial structure caving is satisfying.

Knowing Luce has the situation under control, I go back outside to wait for the cops.

Leaning against the wall, I breathe deep the California air. Jorja opens the car door and gets out. Without saying a word, she lifts my arm and slides under it to cuddle. When the police arrive, we're still in the same position.

“The two assailants are inside. Unconscious.”

He nods, and they walk to the door.

“Lucifer, come.”

They stop, and the look they give me would've made me laugh under other circumstances. Luce trots out of the room, and they both take a step back, clearing out of his way.

“Oh.” They smile. “Good name.”

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