Extreme Honor (3 page)

His touch was feather-light and still, it took effort not to shrink away from him.

“It's okay. You've been through hell just now. I won't ask more questions until the police get here.” His check was gentle but thorough, and strangely her shakes steadied when he touched her but started up again as soon as he sat back on his heels. “Nothing broken or dislocated, but he had your arm wrenched behind you in a nasty hold. I'm betting the paramedics will still want you to have it in a sling for a few days.”

She blinked up at him.

“I'm calling in 9-1-1. They'll dispatch both police and ambulance. You should be looked over.”

For the first time, she took a long look at her hotel room behind him. Everything, all her belongings, had been tossed across the room. She hadn't brought much with her but she had packed for an extended stay. All of her clothes, her notes, were strewn everywhere.

Fear rose up in any icy wave and clawed at her throat.

“Why were they here?” They had to have been looking for something.

David shook his head. “I was about to ask you the same. This looks too thorough to be a random robbery.”

The one man had said something…

“One of the men, the one holding me, said I wasn't supposed to see them.” And she wouldn't think about what the other man had said. Not yet. She'd tell the police when they got there and David could listen then.

“That so? We're going to have to see what the police think.” Somehow she suspected David was leaving things unsaid.

Biting her lip, she wondered whether they were going to come back for her.

“They won't get to you again, Lyn.” David responded as if he'd heard her thoughts. “And you did great in here. I only heard a minute or two, but you let them know you weren't going to give in without a fight. You were very brave.”

Then why did the word “stupid” come more immediately to mind?

An awkward silence settled between the two of them. It stretched out until she fished for something, anything, to say. “I might be late tomorrow morning.”

A surprised bark of laughter yanked her gaze back to him. He smiled at her, warm and comforting. And she wanted to slip into the curve of his arms to ward off the chill.

 She'd only met him this morning and already she was going to ask him for more than she should. But what else was she going to do?

“Will you stay with me?”

He reached out a hand slowly, giving her plenty of time to watch the approach, and then cupped her cheek. “I'll be right here, the entire time. If you need to go to the hospital, I'll go with you there, too. Okay?”

“Okay.”

H
ow is she?”

Cruz craned his neck to look out the window. “Physically? She's a trooper. Arm's in a sling for a few days but she insisted on starting with Atlas at oh-five-hundred this morning.”

That despite his assurance to her that it was completely fine for her to have started later. She'd mentioned she might be late, damn it. She should have taken the time for herself.

“That so?” Beckhorn's voice held equal parts surprise and admiration. Cruz shared it. “How's Atlas doing?”

“He's acknowledging her existence.” And didn't that chafe his ass just a little bit. “She's out walking the perimeter with him now.”

Speaking of, the pair came into view finally, far out across the grounds. Atlas kept pace with Lyn's short stride, adjusting to her changes in speed and coming to heel when she paused to check out flowers or whatever.

Dog still maintained an air of disinterest, but he was out there with her and not laying on his belly in the kennel.

“So he's making progress.” Beckhorn pressed for more.

“Baby steps, my friend.” Cruz chuckled. “Don't go reporting him as recovered any time soon.”

“This mean you don't want me to keep digging into who sent her?”

Cruz leaned back in his chair, considering. Her fear had been real the night before. Terror, really. “She was damned shaken up last night. Take a look at the debrief I sent you, off the record. Someone was looking for info she didn't know she had. Or maybe she didn't have it yet.”

“She's a liability.” His friend made a grim noise.

“I had her check out of the hotel and gave her a place to stay here where I can keep an eye on her.” He didn't entirely trust her yet but he was sure she hadn't been faking anything the evening before. Her reactions had been genuine.

“You're going to keep her around?” Beckhorn whistled, low and long. “Is she that hot?”

“It's not about that and you know better.” Of course, Lyn chose to bend over right about then, checking out a pretty wildflower or weed or something, and he got a faraway view of her shapely rear.

Okay, she was hot.

But he wouldn't keep a liability around just for that. He had Atlas in mind.

“Yeah, yeah,” Beckhorn continued, oblivious of the view. “What's the plan now?”

“We both know there was something to the way Calhoun died.” It was a big part of the reason Beckhorn had called Cruz so soon for Atlas. He'd needed someone he could trust to oversee the dog's recovery before something unfortunate occurred. “Accidental friendly fire, my ass.”

“It's the ‘accidental' part in question. We both know it wasn't friendly even if the round did come from one of ours.” Beckhorn's tone went flat. “What we need to do is both prove it and find out why. Calhoun reached out to you just before he died and whatever drunk text he sent you pointed to Atlas.”

“At the time, the message hadn't made any sense so I assumed it was a drunk text.” Cruz swallowed hard on the guilt and self-recrimination there. Not sure what he could've done from across a damned ocean but he still felt he should've realized something was wrong and helped his friend stay alive.

“It still doesn't make any sense.” A string of curses followed. “Look. No ripping ourselves up for what we would've, should've, could've. We do the right thing now.”

“Yeah.” Cruz nodded even if Beckhorn couldn't see.

Lyn resumed her stroll and Atlas took up position by her side. Dog might play like he wasn't interested in the woman but he was engaged and Cruz would take whatever help there was to be had.

Of course, he might have more in common with the dog than he'd prefer to admit.

Last night, she'd suffered a bad scare. Things could have been far worse if he hadn't shown up when he did. He'd been ready to rip her a new one when he'd come to her door, ajar only because her phone had landed in the entryway. It'd taken seconds to change gears from being angry with her to charging in to help her.

He'd have still gotten through, but it would've taken longer for him to realize what was going on and to break down the door. She'd been very lucky.

In those moments, he'd become someone else. The man he used to be. The stranger he'd locked down after he'd returned from deployment. When he'd heard her in danger, he'd gladly embraced the old rage and the cold calm to rush the door. Eliminate the threats.

“You still there, man?” Beckhorn brought him back.

A cold chill passed through Cruz as he realized he'd come to his feet. Maybe he hadn't completely put the other him to rest yet, but it'd take some time to ease back and he hadn't been all too relaxed as it was. It'd been why he'd come to spend time at Hope's Crossing. “Yeah. Here.”

Now. Just a minute ago? Not so much. Seemed like Miss Evelyn Jones had a way of pushing all sorts of buttons with him without even trying to.

“You wanna share what you're thinking? I can almost hear the gears turning in your head.”

Way across the field, Lyn had come to a halt. It was Atlas's posture that got Cruz moving. “I'm going to have to call you back.”

Atlas noticed the stranger first. Lyn thought it might be one of the other trainers, but in seconds it was clear he wasn't. She'd met both through the course of the day and neither of them had the same build or stance. Dressed casual in dark jeans and button-up shirt, the stranger came through a thick grouping of trees out of nowhere. He caught sight of her and grinned. She recognized it. Oh God, she'd recognize that grin anywhere.

Fear rushed through her and she stumbled back a step, instinctively bringing her hands up to ward off the stranger without thinking.

A deep growl broke through her shock and Atlas surged forward, ripping the leash off her wrist before she could close her hand securely back around the leather.

“Atlas!”
Oh no, no
. She couldn't leave him, wouldn't. Last night, the intruders didn't seem to have any weapons on them, but this man might.

But he blanched white at the sight of the oncoming dog. He backpedaled a few steps and then turned and ran straight back through the copse of trees.

Atlas plunged through after him.

Lyn ran after them both.

“Are you crazy?” The bellow came from behind her but Lyn ignored David and kept going. His angry shout was gaining on her. “Stop! I got this.”

Reckless, more afraid for Atlas than anything, Lyn sprinted through the trees and came out in another field. The stranger lay on his back, yelling in pain with Atlas over him. He'd only made it halfway to the fence.

“
Los! Los!
” David caught up and passed her by. “
Los!
”

Atlas didn't let up.

“I'm just lost! I came in here by accident!” The man was shouting.

David let loose a curse and turned to her. “Lyn, come here.”

Her heart in her throat, she ran to his side. She should say something, tell Cruz who the man was.

The man's screaming became shriller and words scattered from her mind.

“Here, focus here.” David's words cut across the awful sound. “You can do this. Go to Atlas, grab his collar, tell him ‘
Los.
'”

“What? I…”

He grabbed her good arm and gave her a light shake. “Quick. Before he gets through this guy's guard. Atlas can and will kill. You need to do this.”

His gaze caught her, steel blue and hard. Not cold. Urgent.

She nodded.

He let her go then and she stumbled toward Atlas. She needed to get to him before he killed this man.

“Not on his left, go to his right.”

Obeying David's instructions, she changed the direction of her approach.

Atlas was so fast, he was a blur. He had the man's forearm between his teeth and was shaking his head back and forth. As she hesitated, there was a sickening crack.

“
Los!
” The word fell out of her mouth as she lunged forward and grabbed for Atlas's collar. “
Los
, Atlas,
los
!”

Atlas released his hold and she dragged him back as the man crab-walked away from them on one good arm. David was on him in a split second.

“I'm going to sue! You're all crazy here! I'm going to sue!” The man babbled as David hauled him to his feet.

He was covered in blood and his arm hung at an awkward angle.

Lyn swallowed back bile and knelt down next to Atlas, keeping a firm hold on his collar. She couldn't stop shaking. “Good boy, Atlas. Good boy.”

Atlas's attention was on the man and he whined with eagerness but stayed with her.

“Lyn.” David sounded calm, completely ignoring the threats of the injured man. “Take Atlas back to the kennel and check him over.”

“What about…”

“Police are en route. The silent alarm went off when he broke the perimeter. I'll wait here for them; you take Atlas back. Go around the trees so I have you two in my line of sight.”

That, she could do. The farther away she could get from the man, the better. “Okay.”

She fumbled for Atlas's leash with her bad arm, ignoring the ache in her shoulder. Didn't want to chance letting go of his collar until she had the leash in hand. When she stood, she had to tug twice for Atlas to come with her, but he did.

They made it a couple of yards before she noticed Atlas was walking funny. She turned to look him over, bending to run her hands over his chest and shoulder.

“Oh no.” She'd thought the blood splashed across his chest belonged to the man. But as she ran her hands through his fur, her fingers found a gouge in his flesh.

Sirens approached in the distance and two men came running from the main building. David's partners.

“What happened?” Forte skidded to a stop next to her and Atlas gave a warning growl. Rojas continued on past, toward David and the intruder.

“Easy,” she murmured to Atlas. Not good if he went for one of the trainers. Not good. They needed them. “He needs help. He dove through the trees over there and must've gotten torn up on his way through.”

“Seriously?” Forte started to kneel but halted and straightened as he took in the dog's posture. “Okay, Lyn, he's not going to make this easy. I need to talk you through this.”

 “What do I need to do?” Too much time was passing and Atlas was hurt.

“Kneel down and get your arms around him. Don't lift him. Don't hurt yourself. Just hold him. Talk to him. Let him know it's okay for me to take him from you. If you don't, he's not going to let me touch him.”

It wasn't what she'd been expecting. But she didn't waste time waiting for an explanation. She squatted in the grass next to Atlas, murmuring soothing nonsense phrases as she did. His growl quieted but he didn't take his gaze off Forte. Copying what David had done the day before, she wrapped her arms around Atlas's chest and hindquarters. Her shoulder ached but she ignored it. Instead, she kept talking to Atlas, coaxing him to calm and listen to her.

When his posture relaxed, Forte kneeled next to them both, nice and slow.

“It's okay. He's going to help.” She kissed Atlas's head, whispered against his fur. “Good boy. Good boy.”

It wasn't what the dog was used to hearing, but his ears turned back in her direction. He was listening.

Forte got his arms around Atlas, keeping up a steady soothing monologue of his own. The dog remained still with the handoff, heavy panting the only sign of his distress.

“Let's get him to the main building. We've got a triage room.” Forte's words were grim. “Grab the phone out of my back pocket. Vet's on speed dial.”

Embarrassed, Lyn fumbled at his backside as he strode across the field. “Which…?”

“Left cheek, my friend. We're friends now, right?”

A laugh slipped out before she had too much time to think. One more fumble and unintentional grope and she had the phone. It was easy to find the vet on speed dial. She was in the top five favorites on the front screen and labeled as “Vet.”

Easiest thing to do in the last twenty-four hours.

Cruz strode through the doors of the triage room they kept on site. Atlas lay on the table and Doc Medicci was shaving away the fur around a nasty slice across his shoulder.

Forte stood by, helping with the now calm dog.

And there was Lyn.

He zeroed in on her. “Is any of that blood yours?”

“I'm sorry,” she whispered, her gaze locked on Atlas. “He went right through the trees and must've tore himself up on a branch. It didn't even slow him down.”

“It's not the first time we've seen something like this.” He was concerned. Of course he was. But the intensity and prey drive these dogs had resulted in accidents like these in the past. In this case, Atlas had moved to protect Lyn.

Currently, Cruz was fairly overwhelmed with the need to take care of her himself.

“Relatively superficial this time.” Medicci didn't even glance up from her work. “I'm not finding any other damage. I'm going to put on a dissolving suture. Keep it clean and restrict him to light exercise until it heals. If it gets red or irritated, call me.”

In short order, Atlas was back on his feet.

“Go get cleaned up, Lyn. He's fine now and you're swaying on your feet.” Forte's tone was gentle, not angry.

Cruz caught Forte's attention and his friend gave him a brief nod.

“Let's go.” Cruz reached out for Lyn and herded her toward the door, careful not to touch her.

Did she realize she was shaking?

“The man. He was the same from yesterday.” Lyn's voice trembled. She took a breath and the rest came out in a rush. Atlas padded over and leaned against her leg. “He had a ski mask on but I recognized his grin. The way he looked at me. It was the same guy, I swear.”