by Susan Stoker
She’d just turned to look up at Sawyer and ask him something—when all hell broke loose.
One second, they were all walking down the sidewalk, and the next, Blythe found herself in a chokehold. She couldn’t see who was behind her, but she could smell him. Sour beer and body odor. The combination made her cough and her eyes water.
Both her hands went up to the arm at her neck and she tried to pull at it so she could get some air, but whoever had her wasn’t loosening his hold.
Her eyes swung up and caught Sawyer’s.
He. Was. Pissed.
He wasn’t looking at her, but rather at whoever held her. Not only was the man cutting off her air, she could feel the point of a knife against the skin at her side. She was dragged backward into one of the many alleys in the city. With every step she took, Sawyer’s jaw got harder and harder.
It was weird how no one said a word—but they didn’t have to. There was no doubt in her mind that Dog and Tweek had found her.
Squirrel had looked away from Blythe for two seconds to respond to something Calder had said, and in those two seconds, someone had come up behind them and grabbed Blythe around the neck and was threatening her with a knife. He would’ve lashed out at him if it wasn’t for the blade—and was still seriously considering it, when suddenly they were surrounded by three more men.
They weren’t big, but they were desperate. If Moose was with him, Squirrel figured they probably could’ve taken on all of the men. But he wasn’t. He recognized Dog from the description Blythe had given the officer when she was in the hospital after she’d been attacked. And Dog had Blythe in a headlock so tight, he could see her face turning red.
Squirrel could almost taste the hatred in the air. He felt Calder come up behind him and they squared off with the thugs who had jumped them. But he knew these weren’t regular thugs. Whatever feeling he’d had in the shelter had obviously been spot on.
Squirrel refused to look at Blythe again. He knew if he did, he’d lose it. So he kept his eyes on the man who was holding her. He had his arm around her neck, and the knife in his other hand was way too close to Blythe for comfort. At the moment, it was aimed at her side, but he could easily shift and cut her throat if he wanted to.
No one said a word as they moved deeper into an alley. He felt as if he had tunnel vision. Squirrel knew he should be worried about the other three men flanking them, but his only concern was Blythe and the asshole who held her.
When they were halfway down the alley, Squirrel broke the silence. “Dog, I presume?”
The man holding Blythe smirked. “So you’ve heard of me.”
There was so much Squirrel wanted to say, but he didn’t want to antagonize the jerk. Not while Blythe was at his mercy. “What do you want?” he asked in a low, deadly voice.
“Me and this bitch have unfinished business,” Dog growled.
Squirrel’s mind was whirring with possible next steps. He could bum rush Dog, but he might sink the knife into Blythe’s side before he got close. Squirrel could turn and fight the men surrounding him and Calder, but that would also leave Blythe vulnerable. Dog could slink off with her while he was otherwise occupied.
“Let her go,” he demanded, more to kill time than anything else.
As expected, Dog refused. “No.”
“Look,” Squirrel said. “Nothing good will come of you hurting Blythe. She’s got friends, lots of them. In high places. The FBI, Texas Rangers, SAPD. If something happens to her, you’ll never be able to go back to your normal life again. They’ll never stop hunting you and your friends. You’ll end up in prison—and I can guarantee it won’t be a walk in the park. You’re a small fish, Dog. Let her go, and I can try to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“Whatever, asshole,” Dog scoffed. “This bitch interfered in my business. She has to pay.”
Calder spoke up then. “You ever been in jail?”
Squirrel wasn’t sure who Calder was talking to but he didn’t take his gaze from Dog.
“It’s nothing like being out here on the streets,” his friend went on. “Out here, you have friends who have your back, but in there, you’re on your own. And I’ve got people who will guarantee that.”
“Fuck. Tweek, man, let’s go,” one of the thugs surrounding them said.
“Don’t listen to him,” Tweek told Dog, ignoring the other man. “The bitch cut me up! He’s just trying to scare you.”
“I’m not lying,” Calder insisted. “I had an inmate on my table the other day. I’m a medical examiner for the county. I get all the dead bodies and have to autopsy them. Guy had forty-three stab wounds. And you want to know what he was stabbed with?” Calder didn’t wait for a response. “A fork. He was jumped by five other inmates and forked to death. The wounds weren’t deep; he actually lived for a week after the attack. He died of infection. Apparently, the other inmates had covered the forks with their shit before stabbing him. You want that to be you?”
Squirrel had no idea if Calder was making that story up or not, but one of the three men who’d surrounded them obviously believed it, because his footsteps as he ran away echoed in the alley around them.
“Roach!” Tweek yelled after the man. “Fuck!”
“Let her go,” Squirrel ordered Dog again.
“Fuck you. Me and her have a date. I’m gonna fuck her in every hole. Then my friends are gonna take their turns. She’s gonna learn her lesson about not butting in where she doesn’t belong. And everyone else is gonna learn that same lesson. No one fucks with Dog. These are my streets. I own them.”
Squirrel’s eyes dropped to Blythe’s for the first time. She looked terrified…but there was a hint of anger there too.
Good. If she was too scared to do anything to help herself, it would make this harder.
He took a step forward, and Dog took a step back.
Squirrel opened his mouth to respond when he heard a commotion behind him.
“Fuck!” he heard Tweek shout before another unknown voice thundered out.
“These aren’t your streets, motherfucker. And we’re getting mighty tired of you thinking they are.”
Squirrel took his eyes off of Dog for the first time and turned to the side, just enough to look at the newcomers.
Standing in a semi-circle around them were six rough-looking men. They were all wearing blue and each had a gun in his hand. The men’s heads were shaved, and all of them were muscular. They were all white, and obviously members of a gang.
Calder immediately took a few steps to the side and put his back against the wall of the alley, holding his hands out to his sides, showing he was unarmed.
His actions were telling. These were men to be concerned about. Not Dog and his gang of wannabe hangers-on. Squirrel knew without a doubt they could take him and Calder down with no problem. He just hoped it didn’t come to that.
Squirrel wanted to follow Calder’s example, get out of the way and let them do what they wanted with Dog and his friends, but he couldn’t, not with Blythe still in danger.
“This doesn’t concern you, Blue,” Dog said with a little less swagger in his tone. “This bitch done me wrong.”
“What’d she do?” the man named Blue asked.
“She interfered with my business.”
“And what was that?”
“I had a target culled from the herd and was making my move when she butted in, and they were able to get away.”
“Hmmm,” Blue murmured, stroking his temple with the muzzle of his pistol. “So you were trying to rob someone in my territory when you know how I feel about that. I’ve told you time and time again to cut that shit out. And further, how’d she butt in? She’s a skinny little bitch. Can’t imagine her being able to get the drop on you.”
“She didn’t,” Dog countered, obviously pissed at the innuendo, that he wasn’t man enough to handle her. “She surprised me and Tweek, cut up his neck, and my targets ran while we were dealing with her.”
“That’s my woma
n,” Squirrel said, venturing into the conversation. “She was homeless a while back and sleeping under a trash bin when she saw Dog and his friends robbing a tourist couple. She decided to get involved. Got a few knife wounds as thanks.”
Blue looked over at Squirrel. He eyed him up and down, staring for a long moment at the Station 7 logo on his shirt before speaking. “Homeless?”
Squirrel couldn’t read anything in the gang member’s tone but took a risk anyway. “Yeah. Her mom died. Cancer. She couldn’t pay the medical bills and got kicked out of her apartment. She’d already lost her job because she had to stay home and take care of her dying mother. Ended up on the streets.”
“And you let her?” Blue asked.
“I didn’t know her then,” Squirrel said calmly. “But I know her now. She’s mine.”
“Why are you down here if she’s yours? Not exactly the place to be taking an afternoon stroll. Especially with people like him around.”
Squirrel wanted to roll his eyes at the guy’s statement. As if Dog was the dangerous one here. Blue and his gang seemed to be ten times the threat Dog and Tweek were. But he’d asked a valid question. “She’s got a friend she’s concerned about. Also homeless. With a kid. She wanted to find and help them.”
“She interfered!” Dog shouted. “And she cut Tweek’s neck! Stupid bitch doesn’t know her place.”
Blue turned back to Dog. “Give her to me,” he ordered in a low, deadly tone.
Squirrel tensed but kept quiet. It was one thing to have to fight Dog and Tweek for Blythe, but fighting the six gang members would be almost impossible.
“Fuck you!” Dog spat. “She’s mine. I found her first.” He was acting as if he really were a dog fighting over a meaty bone.
“Let her go right now—or face the consequences,” Blue repeated.
Squirrel heard another scuffle and saw that Tweek and the other guy—he still didn’t know his name—had tried to run. But they’d easily been caught by two of Blue’s gang members. They had guns pointed at both of their heads.
This was seriously getting out of hand, and Squirrel had no idea what his next step should be. He glanced at Calder, but his friend’s eyes were glued to Blue.
“We’ve been meaning to deal with you for a while now,” Blue said. “Let the bitch go.”
Dog brought the knife up to Blythe’s throat, replacing his arm with the blade. “Back off, Blue! I’ll slit her throat.”
Squirrel took a step toward Dog then, his eyes focused on the sharp edge of the blade at Blythe’s throat. A thin line of blood welled up as Dog took a step backward, forcing Blythe to do the same.
Blue also took a step forward. Squirrel could see him out of the corner of his eye.
The air was thick with tension and anticipation as everyone waited to see which man would make the next move. Dog, to kill Blythe; Blue, to shoot Dog; or Squirrel, to bum-rush Dog, hoping to get to him before he had the chance to run the knife across Blythe’s throat.
Interestingly enough, it was Blythe who made the first move.
Her hands had come up to cling to Dog’s arm when he’d put the knife at her throat…
Now, with a grunt, she shoved his forearm and threw herself to the side at the same time.
Squirrel started moving before she began to fall, as he’d been watching her closely. He was going to make sure Dog couldn’t get to her after she was on the ground but Blue acted before Dog could take a step.
The sound of the pistol going off was loud in the alley, echoing off the walls and making Squirrel’s ears ring.
With no regard for his own safety, Squirrel didn’t even slow his movements. He threw himself over Blythe and rolled, holding her tightly in his arms. They ended up next to one of the brick walls and he caged her body with his, trying to keep every inch of her covered.
No one said a word for a second—then all hell broke loose. Tweek started yelling and the other men in the gang yelled right back. Then Squirrel heard Blue’s low, pissed-off voice over all the others.
“This is our turf, got it? You don’t rob tourists, because they’re ours. You don’t sell drugs, because that’s our job. You don’t do anything without our permission. You don’t like it? You can fucking go somewhere else. Yeah?”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it!” Tweek acquiesced quickly.
“Get the fuck out of here,” Blue ordered.
Squirrel heard footsteps running away, but he didn’t take his eyes from Blythe. She was curled into his chest, ducked down so all he could see was the top of her head. He scooted back a fraction and rolled her to her back. He eyed her throat, making sure she didn’t need immediate medical attention. Thoughts of her jugular being sliced open were at the forefront of his mind. She had a small cut, but it wasn’t gushing blood. Sighing in relief, he met her eyes for the first time. “Are you okay?”
“I…I think so. You?”
“I’m good. Fuck, Blythe…fuck.”
She began to shake then and buried her head in his chest once more, holding on to him as if she’d never let go.
“She good?” Blue asked from above them.
Squirrel didn’t care that he was lying in who knew what. Wetness was seeping through his pants, but it didn’t matter. Not when he had Blythe safe in his arms.
But the danger wasn’t over. The man standing over them wasn’t exactly a saint. Yeah, he’d saved Blythe, but he was still extremely dangerous.
Squirrel turned his head, refusing to loosen his hold on Blythe. “She’s good. Thank you.”
Blue stared at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “That sucks about her mom. My ma was a good woman. She didn’t deserve the shit she went through either.”
Squirrel nodded but didn’t speak.
“When I was twelve, our house burned down. Molotov cocktail thrown through the window by a rival gang. Firefighters came and found me and Ma hiding in her room. They got us out. We would’ve died if they hadn’t done what they did. Consider this my payback.”
Squirrel understood. They’d been extremely lucky Blue felt he owed a marker to the nameless firefighters from so long ago who had saved him.
Sirens sounded in the distance and Blue motioned to his buddies with his head. Without another word, Blue jammed his gun in the pocket of his jeans and nodded at Squirrel. “Glad you’re all right,” he said to Blythe, who was now peeking up at him from her position in Squirrel’s arms. “A bit of advice…get out of here and don’t look back. The streets aren’t any place for a good woman like yourself.”
Blythe didn’t move, didn’t speak. Squirrel didn’t think she even blinked.
Blue went on, “If I run across your friend and her son, I’ll give her the same advice. I’ll tell her to go to the shelter over on Fifth and Main and call her friend…” His voice trailed off and his eyebrows went up in question.
Blythe looked up at the dangerous gang member and said, “Blythe. Tell her to call Blythe.”
Blue nodded, then spun on his heel and walked back down the alley the way he’d come. The rest of his entourage following along behind him.
Calder came over to them then and put his hand on Squirrel’s back. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Come on, let me help you up.”
Squirrel reluctantly disengaged from Blythe and stood, then he quickly helped her to her feet and took her back into his arms. “We’re going to have to explain that,” he told Calder, nodding toward Dog’s dead body lying in the alley behind them.
“Yeah. But the fact that Blythe had a run-in with him before, and we were witnesses this time, will work in our favor. I have a feeling Blue knows how to handle himself when questioned by the police.”
Squirrel nodded.
“I’m going to call Quint and Hayden. They might be able to smooth things over quickly as well,” Calder said.
Squirrel nodded again. “And tell them to get an ambulance here for Blythe, would ya?”
“On it.”
Blythe s
hook her head. “I’m okay, Sawyer. I don’t need an ambulance.”
“Tough,” he told her. “You’re getting one.”
She sighed but asked Calder, “Were you lying about the forks?”
He grimaced. “Unfortunately, no.”
“Gross,” she whispered.
“Yeah. It definitely was,” Calder agreed before stepping away to make his calls.
Squirrel put his hands on either side of her head and turned her face up to his. “Are you sure you’re okay? He had a pretty good hold on you.”
“I’m positive.”
“I can’t believe you did that. You could’ve gotten hurt, baby. He could’ve sliced your throat as you pulled away from him. You scared the shit out of me.”
“He wasn’t going to let me go,” Blythe said with conviction. “That Blue guy was going to shoot him one way or another. I saw it in his eyes. I knew if I didn’t get myself out of the way, I might be caught in the middle of whatever turf war they were having. I decided a cut in the process of getting away was better than being shot or having my jugular sliced open.”
Squirrel couldn’t disagree with her.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you myself.”
Blythe smiled then. “But you did.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Sawyer, you did,” she insisted. “Without you here, the gang guy would’ve shot Dog without caring that I was in his way. He saw that you were a firefighter, and because of what happened to him and his mom, because you were here, he waited until he had a clear shot. So you did save me.”
Squirrel didn’t really believe her, but he wasn’t going to argue. He wished he could’ve prevented her from being in Dog’s clutches in the first place.
They stood there in that alley, a place where, in a different time, Blythe might’ve slept, to wait for the cops to arrive. And soaked in the relief of knowing they were both alive and relatively unscathed.
Epilogue
Two weeks later, Blythe got home before Sawyer. They’d gotten back into a routine of sorts. Sawyer would drop her off at the library when he wasn’t on shift, and when he was, Sophie would stop by and pick her up on her way to work. After Blythe worked her five-hour shift, Beth would pick her up and drop her off back at Sawyer’s house…that is, if she didn’t take her shopping or kidnap her for a meeting with the “girls.”
