Page 4 of Safe Haven
His tail was wagging a moment ago in pride and happiness that I was home, but now he drops his head and whimpers as he walks over to the huge, fluffy bed he has in the kennel before lying down to stare at me with those fucking big brown eyes.
“Nope, you are not getting out of this. You need to learn how to behave. I’m getting you a trainer, and you’re going to doggie daycare starting tomorrow.” I talk as I start to clean up the mess.
Turns out the brown stains on my cream couches were taco meat from the crockpot —thank God.
It takes me hours to sort out my house before I can order myself a pizza at damn near midnight. Thank fuck I’m off tomorrow ‘cause I’m beat by the time I drag my ass into the shower and lie down in bed that night.
I’m just starting to doze off when my cellphone chimes.
“NO,” I sigh and grab at the device.
I’m on call this week, and I know before looking that I’ll need to drag my ass out of bed and to a crime scene, but to my surprise, it’s an unknown number. Frowning, I send it to voicemail and drop my phone on the mattress as I close my eyes again.
A text comes almost instantly.
Haven?
I frown and think before answering.
This is Dr. Demato. Who is this?
Danny, I need your help.
Oh fuck no.
The only Danny I know is my cousin Danica, and we haven’t spoken in years. Last I heard, she’s run off with a biker gang and was running drugs, guns, and fuck knows what else. I am not getting involved with her again.
I can’t help you. Good luck.
It was a cold-hearted way of telling her to fuck off, and she must have gotten the point, cause no more messages came through, allowing me to finally fall asleep.
My brain, however, did not make it peaceful. Dream after dream of Dani and me as kids filled my brain all night long, causing me to wake up several times through the night and debate whether to text or even call her back, to check if she is okay.
Sometimes having a conscience can be a royal bitch.
So here I was drinking coffee at my kitchen counter, watching the sun come up through my French doors, when a loud bang makes me spill the hot liquid all over my hands.
Diesel starts to growl, and I quickly flip the latch on his kennel to let him out. He rushes over to the glass door and starts barking. That’s when I see it.
A figure hidden in the bushes.
I grab the baseball bat I keep by the doors and open it slowly. I grab Diesel’s collar so he doesn’t rush out and yell into my backyard.
“Who’s there?” A bird flies out of my trees, and the wind blows, but no one answers.
I stare at where I thought I saw the shadow, but no one is there.
Diesel growls more and tries to get away from me. I’m just about to let him when a whimper meets my ear. I turn my head and see a woman lying on my grass reaching for me.
“Haven, help.” I spring into action, my medical training taking over in a heartbeat.
She’s covered in bruises, bleeding from several stab wounds, both her eyes are swollen shut, someone has cut off a few of her fingers, and that’s only from what I can see. Who knows what I’ll find once I get her clothes off?
“Danica, what happened to you?” How did she even get here?
“Attacked, ran, help.” She passes out in my arms, and I curse.
So much for not getting involved.
