Destiny's Revenge (Destiny Series - Book 2) (11 page)

He stepped through the door and his eyes found mine immediately. That pang of desire from right before he left throttled up, and I silently wished it wasn’t the middle of the day with his cousin and grandfather in such close proximity and wide awake. In that split second I knew we could have rocked the house.

Max made his way to me slowly, took me in his arms in a stiff manner, but said nothing. Max led me to our room, and I was both embarrassed at the thought of being caught and thrilled at the prospect of some alone time with Max. He pushed me toward the bed a little more roughly than I had expected. Peanut came around the corner, teeth bared and ran between us. I laughed, “Peanut, it’s okay. Let’s put you in the other room.” As I went to give Peanut a gentle shove toward the door, he put his mouth around my hand and pulled. It was a firm grip with his mouth, but his teeth never broke my skin. The shock of it made me scream, “Peanut, no,” but his grip pulled me another step toward the door. He let go of my hand and stood in between Max and me growling, like something had possessed him.

My eyes were wide with surprise. Max looked at the dog poised to attack, never breaking its gaze. Max didn’t look at all fearful; it was almost as if he were enjoying it. The whole situation was unfolding so fast that my mind wasn’t processing it properly. I yelled, “Peanut down, no, stop, sit,” every command I could think of. Each was ignored and the dog looked as though he were going to rip Max apart. Max did absolutely nothing. He just stared at the animal in a show of what? Dominance, maybe?

I looked at my hand. There wasn’t a mark on it. Peanut was clearly not playing, but he had no intention of hurting me. At the same time, he was ready to rip Max limb from limb. I got hold of myself and decided screaming at Peanut was doing no good, so I reached out to him and stroked his back saying, “Easy boy, take it easy. It’s just Max. Everything is fine.” His posture didn’t change and Max still hadn’t moved or uttered a syllable.

I tried to coax Peanut out of the room, but he wouldn’t budge. I told Max, “Hold on, I’ll get him out.” I stepped out of the bedroom, and said, “Come here, Peanut, come on, let’s go.” Peanut turned his attention behind him and when he saw I was no longer in the room, he started backing toward the door not loosening his posture for a second. Max’s concentration left the animal to look at me and he smiled. It was the strangest response. He had almost been ripped into pieces by a very large Doberman Pincher that was still growling at him, while I was trying to convince it to leave the room. The whole time, Max had neither said nor done anything to antagonize the dog or to diffuse the situation.

I knew Peanut was protective of me, but Max had been with me since the moment we got him. As soon as Peanut was outside the room, I tried to go around him to go back into the room and close the door behind me. The dog lunged at the door, pushing all of his weight against it and nearly knocking me over before I could get it shut. He positioned himself between the two of us again, still focusing his aggression on Max.

My mind flashed back to that afternoon at the picnic table with Max and Rewsna where she told us to get a dog, dogs couldn’t be fooled. Apprehensively I asked, “Max, did anything strange happen while you were fishing today?”

He shook his head that nothing out of the ordinary had happened. I looked in Max’s eyes for the first time – they weren’t right. They were still the green with brown flecks, but he looked – dead.

“Max, any idea why Peanut’s angry with you?”

Again, he shook his head.

There was no good reason for Peanut to act this way, other than he was protecting me from Max. Max hadn’t done or said anything that would elicit this response. I heard Joe and Benny walking in the front door. I had the feeling that I was somehow trapped. Whatever was going on with Max, I couldn’t count on them not to be affected the same way.

Knowing I was going to have to bluff my way out of it, I said in an exasperated voice to Max, “Let me go put him in his kennel. He must be freaked out with Benny in the house. I’ll be right back.” Neither Joe nor Benny said a word when I smiled warmly at both of them, “Come on, Peanut, let’s go outside.” I pretended to be oblivious to the fact that none of the three said a word. As I casually made my way to the front door, Peanut followed but never let his guard down for a second.

We didn’t even have a kennel for Peanut. If all were well, this should have registered with Max or Joe. I was off the porch and down the steps making my way to the garage with Peanut right beside me. I grabbed the spare set of keys off of the wall and breathed for the first time since I had been in the house. I ran from the garage door to Max’s truck, held the door long enough for Peanut to get in and jumped in behind him. I cranked the engine, jammed the gearshift in drive and stomped on the gas. Rocks were flying everywhere as we screamed out of the driveway. I reached under the seat and found the Glock in its case, still loaded.

I drove straight for Columbia. The needle in a haystack was my best defense until I could figure out what in the world was going on. Then reality set in. I had no wallet, no identification, no cell phone – my purse was still in the bedroom. I didn’t know where to go, or how to pay for anything when I got there.

I looked at the fuel gauge: a quarter tank wouldn’t get me anywhere near Columbia. I escaped with my life, but my plan wasn’t without flaw. Tears were streaming down my face – what happened to them? Whatever had happened, Peanut was back to his happy-go-lucky self. He laid across the front seat, tongue hanging to the side as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. He didn’t seem the least bit concerned that we barely got away – or the fact that the people we got away from were two of the people I was closest to.

Peanut and I pulled into a rest stop. I couldn’t do much for him, but I could get him a drink of water and an opportunity to relieve himself. No leash. I looked at him and said, “Peanut, I owe you big time, but you’re going to have to do something more for me. I’m going to open the door to the truck. I need you to stay right beside me. Don’t run off, understand?”

I know that of all the skills I possess, communicating with animals isn’t one of them. I opened the door and Peanut jumped over me making a beeline for the interstate. I screamed for him to come back. He was no longer my body guard. He was like nearly any dog with no leash and hundreds of people to go check out. The faster I ran after him, the longer his strides became.

Peanut was easily fifty yards in front of me, swerving in and out of cars in the parking lot when a booming voice from in front of me yelled, “Halt, Setzen.” To my amazement Peanut stopped and sat down right in the middle of the road staring at the man. The man walked over to him and reached down to pet him, and said in a similar booming voice, “Gut hund.” Peanut’s ears were perked up and his tongue was hanging to the side.

I walked up to the stranger, and he asked, “Is this your dog?”

I nodded that it was.

The stranger asked, “Where was he trained?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know, I rescued him from a pet adoption place a week or so ago.”

“Where’s his lead?”

“We left the house without it. He kind of got away from me when I pulled in.”

The stranger had a very disapproving look for me, and his tone wasn’t any nicer when he said, “If you are going to own a dog of this intellect, you need to follow the rules. He is obedient. Chasing him like a child does nothing but confuse him. It was irresponsible of you to remove his lead. This is how he’s able to please you. He’s confused without it. He wants to please you, but you make it impossible, do you understand?”

Having this stranger talk to me like I was a big bag of donuts didn’t do anything for my emotional state, and the tears that I had under control began streaming again. I turned to walk away, knowing that I couldn’t defend myself as a proper owner. I patted my leg and said, “C’mon Peanut.” To my shock, Peanut didn’t move. I turned around and slapped my leg harder, and said more sternly, “Peanut, let’s go.” The dog looked at me, then looked back to the stranger but didn’t move a muscle.

The stranger only ten feet away said a little less sternly, “You may want to try, Peanut Fus.”

No pride left in my entire body, I did as instructed, “Peanut Fus.” Peanut sprinted over to me and walked in stride with me on my right side. When we were out of the stranger’s ear shot, I quietly said to the dog, “What the heck was that? Are you showing off now? I thought we were a team?”

I opened the door to the truck and Peanut leapt in and sat on the passenger seat like this had been a grand adventure. I closed the door and rested my head on the steering wheel. I’m the eternal optimist, but with a quarter tank of gas, I couldn’t go any further than a hundred miles. Wherever I ended up, it needed to be safe, have food and shelter, and be no where Max would ever know to look.

I heard a tap at the window. I looked up to see the stranger standing there. I knew I couldn’t take another lecture on proper pet ownership, so I put my head back down on the steering wheel. He tapped again. If nothing else, he was persistent.

I rolled down the window half way and managed to get out, “Ah, thanks for your help back there.”

“Miss, are you okay?” He was a little older than I was, tall with dark hair, dark eyes, and this time a warming smile.

I shook my head but managed to choke out, “I’ll be fine.”

He had a leash in his hand, “This is a spare I keep in my car in case of an emergency. I can’t guess at your circumstances but thought your situation might be some sort of an emergency.” He handed me the leash through the window.

“Thanks,” was all I could manage.

“I know this is a little unconventional, but do you need help or anything?”

I shook my head that I didn’t and began to roll up the window, when he said, “Sometimes it helps to talk about it, even with someone you don’t know.” What kind of do-gooder was this?

I shook my head again, and he threw out, “All right, I’m sure it’ll work itself out. You’ve got a great looking dog there. Someone spent some real money on his training.”

The stranger turned to walk away, when I asked, “What did you say to him anyway?”

He turned back toward me and said, “Owners of German Shepards, Rotweilers and Dobermans usually train them using German words instead of English. The dogs are extremely intelligent and very obedient. So obedient, that if an intruder broke into a house and told the dog to sit and stay, it most likely would. I guess enough guard dogs sat still and watched thieves walk away with stuff they were supposed to be guarding that owners started training using German words instead of English. I guess Peanut’s previous owners must have thought that a good idea.
Halt
means stop,
Setzen
means sit down and
Fus
means come to me. You should still keep a lead on him. Even the most obedient dogs will be curious and do things you don’t want them to do.”

“Well, thanks, I appreciate the help and the advice.”

The stranger reached his hand through the window and said, “My name’s Mike.”

I shook his hand. When I touched him, I could tell he was as genuine as he could be - no wariness or dangerous vibes, “Well, thanks a lot, Mike.”

“Look, I don’t want you to think I’ve got any ulterior motives, because I don’t, but it looks like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders. I might be able to help if I knew what was wrong.” He motioned to a picnic table, and I reluctantly agreed. What did I have to lose, right?

We sat down, Peanut crouched at my feet. Mike began with, “Okay, what’s the biggest problem you have right now at this minute?”

I took a deep breath. There were hundreds of people at this rest stop, none of them listening in, my danger sense wasn’t going haywire, and he was right – talking through the situation without any detail might help me figure out what to do. I started with, “I left my wallet at my boyfriend’s house, he isn’t there right now, and the people there are folks I don’t want to be around without him.” So far so good - I was able to skirt the truth and still talk through the root of my problem. “I also don’t have my phone, so I can’t call him or one of my friends to get help, and I only have enough gas to go about a hundred miles.”

“Do you want to use my cell phone?” He held it out to me, and without hesitating a second, I took it.

I didn’t dial Max. I phoned Seth – I got his voice mail. I felt a little self-conscious leaving a voice mail like this in front of a complete stranger, but at this point I may not have a better lifeline available. “Seth, it’s Lauren. I need you to bring me a couple hundred dollars to the rest stop near exit 203 right away. Don’t call my mom or Max or anyone. I’ll explain when you get here. Please, don’t tell anyone. I don’t have a phone, so just know that I am going to be sitting here until you get this. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important. Thanks.” I hung up and handed the phone back to Mike.

He was confused. I was hoping he would pretend he didn’t just hear the voice mail I left, but he didn’t. “Don’t call your parents or anyone? Are you in trouble with the law or what?”

I laughed out loud, wishing that were the extent of my problems. I shook my head, “No, I’m not. I just can’t go back to my boyfriend’s place, and I know if Seth called my mom she would just freak out about the whole situation.”

Mike dug into his pocket and found a business card, then pulled out thirty dollars. “This is all I have on me. You seem like a good person. When you get all this worked out, you can pay me back.” I knew it wasn’t right accepting cash from a stranger, but I did anyway.

“Mike, thanks. I’ll pay you back, I promise.”

Mike stood up and headed back toward his car. I sat at the table with Peanut and waited. The weather was hot and muggy, but there was a breeze, and the sun would be going down in another hour and a half.

Peanut and I waited at the picnic table. We watched cars come and go, as families stopped from long road trips. I carefully eyed every car that arrived, partly concerned that Max or Joe might find us here – but my senses never went haywire. Under any other circumstances this would have been a relaxing evening.