Page 33 of Dark Side of the Cloth

“Then, as much as I’d like that, we better wait until we are back from Mabel’s. Hopefully, we will have gotten a few things straight between us.” Yasmine shocked herself with her answer, and the corner of Dean’s lip pulled up in a small grin.

“I think you may be right.” Dean reached for the door and opened it for her to walk through. “Do you think it would look inappropriate if you took my arm?”

“That does sound very scandalous for this small town, but the sidewalks are a touch slippery.” She tapped her chin. “I think it would look like you were being a proper gentleman.”

Dean held out his elbow to her, a hint of humor playing on his lips. “Shall we?”

They took turns telling stories from their day, and she smiled and laughed more than she had in a very long time. There were very few people out as they wandered down the street toward Mabel’s, and this was the first time she felt truly relaxed with Dean. Maybe it was the banter or that she’d slipped so far down the rabbit hole that she stopped caring about what was morally right. Regardless she felt calm, and no one was going to ruin that for her tonight.

She started up the path to the diner when Dean grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop. She looked up at his face and barely recognized the man before her. His eyes were hard with a seriousness she’d never seen. His eyes flicked back and forth as he scanned the front of the diner. Yasmine turned and looked at the windows and noticed only then the place was mostly in darkness. She looked at her watch to be sure they hadn’t somehow run too late, but Mabel didn’t close until ten, so they still had plenty of time.

There was a loud crash from inside, and Dean gripped her arm harder, almost painfully. “Stay here!”

He jogged away, not giving her time to answer. Yasmine wrapped her arms around herself as she watched Dean pull open the front door.

“Get down,” Dean yelled as he ducked and the front glass door exploded outwards. Yasmine screamed and dropped to the ground with the sound of a gun going off again.

Her face was pressed to the snowy sidewalk, but she managed to turn her head to see if Dean was alright, just as he slipped in through the broken door. What was going on with this town?

Oh no—Mabel!

Not worrying about her own wellbeing Yasmine ran for the front door and yanked it open, the little chime ringing out. One of the old saloon doors that lead to the kitchen was hanging at an odd angle, giving her a clear view of Dean and a shadowed figure struggling in the kitchen. They disappeared out of sight, and another shot rang out. She let out a scream and dropped to the floor to crawl around the counter on her hands and knees and almost knocked herself out on the open cash register drawer.

“Ow!” She rubbed her forehead and then spotted a body lying behind the counter.

“No, no, no.” Yasmine scampered toward the figure lying too still on the floor. Blood was beginning to pool around Mabel, and a knife was deeply embedded in her stomach.

“Oh my god, no. Mabel, I’m here.” She glanced around and grabbed a tea towel lying in a ball on the floor, and twisted it into a donut shape. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably. A loud crash from behind her had her leaning over Mabel, trying to protect her body.

“Dean! Anyone, help! Help me!”

Sliding the makeshift compress down over the blade, careful not to move it, she pressed down, trying to stop the bleeding. The saloon door slammed open, and she screamed and ducked again.

“It’s okay. It’s just me.” Dean squatted down and gave her a gentle nudge with his shoulder. “Let me take care of the wound. You call 911.”

Yasmine didn’t move. She just stared at Mabel’s pale face.

“I can’t lose you too,” she broke down, the tears taking over as reality set in.

“Yasmine…Yazzy!” Her head whipped around to Dean. Focused on his eyes, she pulled herself out of the hysterical fog surrounding her. “She needs help now. I’ve got the wound. Call 911, now.” Dean’s calm, commanding voice had her moving into action. She stuffed her hand into her pocket and pulled out her phone. Yasmine pressed the emergency button, her nerves so frazzled she couldn’t remember her passcode.

“911, what’s your emergency?” The voice answered on the second ring.

“I’m at Mabel’s diner, and she’s been attacked. Oh my god, is the attacker still here?” She looked to Dean, and he shook his head no.

“Is the attacker still on sight?”

“No, he says no.”

“Who says no?”

“What the fuck does it matter who? Send me an ambulance!”

“Please try to remain calm, ma’am.”

Yasmine sucked in a sharp breath, ready to reach through the phone and shake the person on the other end. “This is my calm. The closest thing I have to a mother is on the floor dying! So don’t tell me to remain calm.”

Dean grabbed her shoulder, and she looked into his worried eyes. She nodded, knowing he was here and everything was going to be okay. Somehow he would make things okay. “I’m sorry, please just get here.”