by K. F. Breene
“It’s okay, Jess. It’s fine. Are you inside?”
“Yes. Doors are locked. Didn’t see anyone.” Fred crossed to the front door, which was about five feet from where I was standing.
“Jess, we’re going to head to you, okay? Everything is probably fine. It is probably a couple kids wantin’ to take a dip in the pool.”
“Yeah,” I breathed.
Fred was standing in front of the door, staring at it, body poised, growl turned off.
The door handle jiggled.
“Oh God the door jiggled. The door just jiggled. Oh holy fuck. I gotta run. I gotta get outta here. I can’t be here. Not again. Can’t do this again!”
“Fuck! Jessica, calm down. It’s okay, just—“
“Hi Jess,” Lump said in calm voice. She’d talked me out of a bad choice trying a drug once using that voice. She knew I responded well to it. She was almost right.
Fred was on the move, as silent as a ghost, following something as unseen as a ghost around the perimeter of the cottage. How he knew where they were, I didn’t know. I also didn’t follow.
“Lump, what does it mean when the growl is off?”
“I don’t know, Je—“
“PUT ADAM BACK ON!” I whisper-screamed. I didn’t need calm voice, I needed to know what the hell was going on.
“Hi Jessica.” Adam was working on being calm for me; probably getting coached by Lump. “Fred growling means there…might be someone outside.”
“Adam, someone just fucking jiggled the God-damned door handle, then started walking around the place. Someone is def—“
A large shape passed by the far window, barely darker than the night beyond.
“It’s no kid, Adam,” I whispered, my focal cords tightened.
“How do you know?” Adam asked worriedly.
“Saw a shape. I have my running shoes. I should run.”
“No! Jess, no! Betsy, she wants to run—“ There was a pause, which I filled by watching Fred follow the shadow to the rear of the house. “Running would probably be the last thing to do, Jess. You are locked in with Fred. You are safe. Betsy is calling the police and we are on our way as we speak. We are in the car. We’ll be there shortly.”
I nodded, not wanting to voice that this was the third time Adam would not make it in time. And this time, I didn’t have William to save me.
Fred barked from the back of the house.
“Did Fred just bark?” Adam asked in a near panic.
“Yeah, at the back of the house. I should run. I should. I’m fast. I have my shoes—“
“Jessica-you-will-not-run! Trust in Fred. The police are on their—“
Lights, sirens—the world turned white, bright lights streaming through the windows like spot lights. Disembodied voices yelled, shouting directions. Two shadows jiggled through my window, one getting smaller—off to the Big House. One bigger. Coming here.
“Why me?” I asked, covering my eyes against the glare.
“I don’t know, Jessica. Why can I never help?” Adam answered in the same voice.
The glass back door—my back door—shattered.
“I don’t hear Fred…” My voice trailed off, overtaken by blind, numbing panic.
A shout echoed through the front door.
Then, out the back, sounded a vicious, fierce, louder than a gunshot, wet growl. And screaming. A man screaming so loud and high it didn’t sound like a man anymore.
In a daze I walked that way. I walked toward my dog, probably dying. Toward a man, surely dying.
“JESSICA! JESSICA TALK TO ME!!”
It was Lump. For the first time she sounded just as panicked as Adam. As my inner thoughts.
“I’m here,” I said through numb lips into a phone clutched by numb fingers. I was only so tough, after all. I could only go through so much. And this was one time too many. I was spent. All done. This time, I just didn’t give a shit anymore.
“Do it for William, Jessica! Keep it together for William!” Lump was yelling at me from a different world.
“Do what?” I asked stupidly, staring at a man lying on my kitchen floor with his throat shredded.
“There’s so much blood.” Spilling out. Inching across the tile floor in a smooth, shimmering pool. Crawling along the cracks, reaching out to my feet. “It’s ruining the floor.”
“She’s lost—GO FASTER!” I heard through my fog.
A man’s feet came into view. My eyes traveled up a body a mile high, landing on calculating, steel blue eyes. If he was taken aback by the body at his feet, he didn’t show it.
I waited for my calm bubble of survival, but it didn’t come.
“Too much,” I said to the man, who had taken one step toward me. His balance wavered as his foot hit the slick tile coated with blood.
“Sorry honey—wrong place at the wrong time.” He sounded like a West Coaster. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I wasn’t expecting you. Wrong place at the wrong time.”
The phone clattered to the ground. Lump didn’t need to hear this. Not this. I had been trying to avoid something like this since I got to this damn state, and so far narrowly missed. But luck eventually runs out. My safety blanket was in another state.
“Well shit,” I said, watching the cool headed man working his slow way around a dying man. There wasn’t much room in this part of the entryway, and most of the floor space was filled with a body, blood or urine. Or a disgusting mixture of all three.
“I guess I better go out fighting, huh?” I said dejectedly. That was the name of the game, wasn’t it? That’s what heroes always did? They didn’t write stories or sing songs about people that just laid down and died.
Before I knew how I’d gotten there, I had a giant knife in a steady hand led by a buzzing brain. I was not at the wheel. With Dusty, both times, I had been. I grabbed onto calm, rational thought with him. Not this time.
The large man with a giant barrel chest was advancing on me. He looked sad. Shaking his head, he said, “Sorry baby doll, but I have to. I didn’t think I needed a mask—you’re never here. But as the Texan’s say, I ain’t going back to the pen.”
“That’s a terrible accent.”
Up came a gleaming gun. My eyes honed in on a black hole in the middle of a gleaming silver circle. The end that went bang was pointed at me.
I did the only thing I could think of. I screamed as loud as possible…for Fred. I called his name with every ounce of breath in my body. With my fear lending my voice a higher-than-normal pitch, and urgency giving my voice power, I screamed. And hoped.
And then a blast blotted out all thought.
Followed by that vicious, wet growl.
Then the screaming.
I did close my eyes, then. I closed my eyes and wished for death. I’d had enough.
Chapter Six
“She’s coming to.”
It was Adam. His voice was close to my ear.
My eyes fluttered open. Adam was carrying me. I closed my eyes again.
I felt a warm hand on my arm. A woman’s hand. Lump, then. Her hands were always warm. Great circulation.
“Are you okay, Jess?” Lump asked quietly.
“Don’t know. Is Fred okay?”
“Yes. He is walking next to us. He has some gashes, but he’ll be okay. Are you okay?”
“Don’t know.”
“Can you think about it and let me know? We’re walking out to the paramedics, but maybe I should run ahead?”
“I have my running shoes on. I should’ve run.”
“Yes. I’ll just run ahead. See you there in a jiff.”
I closed my eyes again.
I came to as my butt hit the grass next to a police car. There were feet all around me, some with black shiny boots, some with white sneakers, and an assortment of other kinds, mostly not trendy.
A scratchy brown blanket was draped over my shoulders.
“Second time I get this blanket,” I told no one in particular. “They should invest in bet
ter fabric.”
Someone sat next to me. By the smell, it was Adam.
“Do you hate deodorant?” I asked without really caring what the answer was. He must have known, because he didn’t say anything.
I looked out at all the people flocking around. Police were talking to a few people, mostly Gladis’s employees that stayed in the house. A group of paramedics were loading someone into the back of an ambulance—I couldn’t see if the head was covered or not.
I felt another body next to me, panting. I put my hand on Fred. He was wet.
“Oh my God!” I jumped up, my mind clearing like a windshield wiper had just come through. “Fred!”
He whimpered.
Adam moved around me, staying close, and looked closely at Fred.
“Jesus Christ,” he said quietly. He looked up at me with fear in his eyes.
“Did he get shot? Did I?”
“It’s okay, Jess.”
“Check Fred—I heard the gun go off, Adam. Where did the bullet go if not in me?”
Adam stared at me, frozen in place. I could barely make out his eyes with all the glare and shadows, but I could see defeat. He needed to give up this foolish vendetta to protect me, and it looked like he’d just realized it. Obviously the protection award went to Lady Luck, who I would never call a bitch ever again as long as I lived.
“Check Fred,” I insisted. Sometimes people just needed a job.
Adam did as he told until Lump came over. Then he just kinda…sat down. Not gracefully, or in control—he just half fell over onto his butt and looked at Fred.
“Did he get shot?” I asked again, louder.
“Betsy—“ That was Gladis, sounding so in control of this situation she might have planned the whole thing. “I have a vet here for Fred. Bring him over.”
Lump bent to Fred but Adam stopped her. “No. Have them come here. He’s hurt.”
“Did he get shot?” I asked again, really trying to hold back the tears. I was pretty sure at this point that I didn’t get that bullet.
“How bad?” Lump asked, bending over the dog. Then, “Oh shit. No problem. Jessica, this is no problem. He would stand if I asked—he’s a dog. They are superhuman. I’ll just run and get the vet and we’ll deal with this real quick!”
“I give up, Adam. I don’t want to do this anymore.” I laid down on the grass and closed my eyes again.
The first sight I saw Denise peering down at me. I was lifted—Tom this time—and put onto the back of an ambulance. The Davies lawyer—forgot his name—was standing guard over me.
For some reason that made me feel extremely good.
“Jessica, we are just going to get you looked at, okay?" the lawyer informed me. "Betz said that you have been through a trying ordeal, so we are just going to have you looked over.”
Lump and Gladis, in control when the world was falling down around them.
I nodded my ascent and let the paramedic look at me, but all he found were bruises when I hit the floor. Less for photographs this time.
Thinking of photographs, I asked, “How’s Fred?”
“Fred is Willie’s dog?” the lawyer asked Tom. He got a nod.
Denise said, “Fred is being looked at by one of the best vet’s in the city. The vet’s van is here. Fred is going to be okay. He’ll have to have a few stitches and he’ll be out for a while, but he will be okay.”
“He saved my life.”
“Yes, dear. He is a very good dog.”
“Did he get shot?”
“No, dear. The bullet missed.”
“How is that possible? I was looking at the end of the gun when it went off.”
The lawyer leaned in to catch every word. Denise’s hand flew to her chest.
“Fred got there in time, Jessica,” Tom said softly.
“Who were they?”
“We can talk about all this later—“ Denise started.
The lawyer cut her off by saying, “It’ll help if she hears. It helps the brain focus.”
Tom stepped up. “They are professionals that have worked wealthy areas in cities all across the nation. They are wanted in eight states for robbery, arson and various degrees of murder.”
“Did anyone from Gladis’s house get hurt?”
“Well, it appears they didn’t count on an ex-Queen’s army man from England with a rifle, or a trained attack dog in the pool house.” That from the lawyer, who was surveying me closely.
“The guy said he didn’t wear a mask because he didn’t expect me—that I was never there. Here.”
“The police will want to hear that,” the lawyer said to Denise and Tom. “And they’ll want to talk to her. They’ll want to do it tonight while everything is still fresh.”
“But look at the state she is in.” Denise aimed her cobra scowl at the lawyer. I was thankful it wasn't aimed at me for once.
“There were fatalities—from Willie’s dog, which was in her care. They will want to speak with her. I suggest they do it here, now…” He paused.
“While I look the most vulnerable,” I finished for him. “This isn’t my first rodeo. Please, let’s make this quick. I didn’t give the dog any commands. He did that all on his own. You need to talk to Adam or William to know what all the different barks and growls and everything--”
“We know, dear. You just worry about you, and we’ll worry about the rest,” Denise said kindly.
I nodded. Easier said than done, as I had now proven three times.
By the time I was done, every person involved, including William through the phone on behalf of Fred, had been talked to. Scotty, the lawyer, had orchestrated most interviews and statements. At first I thought it was because of my involvement, which was partly right, but then it became clear that he needed to make sure Fred was viewed as a hero instead of a rapid dog capable of killing small children. If it was the latter, William and Gladis might get sued, and Fred would be put down. To that end, I really hammed up my vulnerability. And let’s face it, it wasn’t a big stretch.
Since my only problems were mental, I was allowed to leave; under supervision. I was told I shouldn’t drive by a stern-faced policeman. Denise then whisked me away and deposited me by Adam, who was sitting on a patch of grass in the middle of mill-and-flocking chaos, so she could check on everyone else.
“The butler,” Adam was saying into the phone. “He was in the army or some damn thing. Long time ago. But he still knows how to shoot. Shot two of ‘em in the extremities, keepin’ ‘em put. Fred took down two, for keeps, both in Jessica’s house, and got two others. The other two only have minor damages, though. They think one got away, but they ain’t sure… Ah man, Willie—you don’t want to know man… No, I mean that. You don’t want to know. She’s fine. Physically. She—“ Adam hunched over.
“It was my fault, man,” Adam continued after a long pause. “I told Betz I wanted my own bed. We usually stay at my house Saturdays, so I told her we needed to stick with that. If I had listened to her we would have been in time to help.” He paused to listen, still not noticing me sitting beside him in a daze. “Yeah well, by the time we figured out something was wrong and had called the cops the alarm had gone off. If we’d been quicker to answer the phone, maybe—…Yeah, I just—… Betz had the phone to her ear but Jess had dropped it. We knew someone—“ Adam took a big breath. “We knew someone had gotten in. Someone was talking to her. We couldn’t hear much—Betz had it on speakerphone—but we couldn’t—then there was a gun shot.” Adam stooped over farther. “She was curled up in a puddle of blood—I thought—the dog was laying right next to her—he growled at me when I came in. He was--“
It was at that moment that I realized Adam was crying. He was bent over, unable to hold himself erect, and he was sobbing. He’d thought he wasn’t in time, and this time I was a goner. I’d thought the same thing.
Sometimes you just needed a job to do.
I scotched over and put my arm around Adam’s shoulder. He jumped at the contact, realized it
was me, then leaned toward me, phone still to his ear, wrapping one big arm around me. He dug his head into my chest and cried like a little boy.
We stayed like that for a while. I wasn’t sure what William was doing on the other end, and while most of me desperately wanted to talk to him, a part of me didn’t. A part of me didn’t want to hear the worry, or feel bad for the misery he must be going through. This was the pinnacle of his fear, after all. That he would constantly be doing business, unable to be with me when I needed it most. He wouldn’t believe that I didn’t expect that from him. He wouldn’t believe that most women didn’t expect that of him. As Lump continually tried to explain, in the world we lived in, that sentimentality just didn’t make sense anymore.
Also, most women didn’t end up in the fucked up situations I had since I’d moved to Texas. I doubted a full time bodyguard could handle my problems, let alone a boyfriend with a career and hobbies.
“Who’s on the phone?” It was Lump, looking down on the scene with sympathy, but also determined control. Lump would cry over all this, too. The hollowness in her eyes made me sure of that. But she would do it on her own. She wouldn’t let me know how afraid she was for me, or how helpless she felt that she couldn’t help. She had the protector job way before Adam, and she had way more to lose now. As long as there were things to do, people that needed her, she would keep functioning full-steam ahead.
Which, right now, I was thankful for. And she knew it.
“William,” I answered. “Or at least, he was a while ago.”
“Adam, baby,” Lump knelt beside us, putting a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Give me the phone.”
Adam straightened up and looked at Lump, pleading.
“Just give me the phone, baby, no one blames you. But we’ll talk about that later, okay?”
“I shudda listened to you, Betsy. I’m never here. I always show up to see her trampled to all hell. I promised Willie I’d keep her safe! I promised, Betsy!”
“I know, baby. Neither of us were here. It isn’t our fault. Those guys had our schedules down. They knew when people came and went. Jess wasn’t supposed to be here, either. Even when Willie’s been gone she’s stayed at his house on Saturday’s. They thought there were a bunch of senior citizens hiding behind an alarm. This crew hit people like this for a profession, Adam.”
