Page 8 of Lock ’N’ Load

At the traffic light opposite the Moose, he flicked on the turn signal and braked to a stop behind another vehicle. He’d take the guys here next Saturday. They’d get a kick out of the place. Especially Mo, the bartender. Glancing at the Moose’s main parking lot, he was gratified to see plenty of cars. That meant he could still get some food.

Motion near the adjacent tree line caught his eye. “What the fu—”

A woman was flailing her arms and being dragged across the parking lot toward the woods. There was barely enough light to make out details, but was that—Trista Gold?

Matt slammed his foot on the accelerator and cranked the wheel, zigzagging around the vehicle in front of him and blasting through the red light.

The Explorer’s engine roared as he sped into the lot. At the edge of the curb next to the tree line, he slammed on the brakes, tires screeching.

He flung open the door, simultaneously pushing the remote button on his vest that would automatically pop open Sheba’s door. “Zadrrz!”

Instantly responding to the Czech command, Sheba leaped from the vehicle and bolted ahead of him.

He took off at a dead run, blood pounding in his ears as he charged into the woods, catching a glimpse of something shiny—a blade—at Trista’s throat.

Ahead of him, Sheba growled, leaping and latching her jaws on the attacker’s arm. Then he heard another growl, this one human, as her teeth sank into flesh. At the same time, Matt barreled into the guy, tackling him to the ground.

The son of a bitch immediately resisted, giving Matt an excuse for pounding his fist into his jaw again and again. Several gratifying pained grunts later, the guy went limp. Matt was about to flip him onto his belly and cuff him, when an eerie screech broke the silence.

He jerked his head around to see Trista’s hand at her throat, her eyes bulging wide. Her mouth was open as she gasped repeatedly for air.

Holy fuck!

Terror gripped him. I’m too late. Her throat had been sliced open.

He went to her side. “Trista. Trista!” he repeated when she didn’t respond. The only sound coming from her throat was that same horrible wheezing.

Which meant she was still breathing but not well.

Grabbing the mic on his lapel, he called for an ambulance and local PD assistance. As the dispatcher relayed his requests, he tried examining the wound on her neck, but Trista refused to move her hand.

“Pozor!” he shouted to Sheba, giving her the command to guard the unconscious man’s limp body.

Trista gripped his arm, her nails biting into his skin. “In-inha—”

“What?”

To his left, leaves rustled, and Sheba growled. Matt’s heart pounded as he whipped his gun from its hol-ster, pointing it at the noise. Trista’s attacker was up and hauling ass through the darkened woods. But Matt couldn’t leave her. Not like this. Not until the paramedics arrived. “Shit.” He hated letting the fucker escape, but she needed him.

Sheba’s body quivered as she repeatedly lifted her front paws off the ground, eager to give chase yet obediently awaiting his command.

“Revier!” Sheba spun and charged into the woods to search for the guy. Seconds later, Matt heard sharp barks slice the air, then a human yelp from somewhere deep within the tree line.

Clenching his teeth, Matt cursed and reholstered his weapon. He didn’t like the idea of his dog out there alone with a murderous, knife-wielding asshole.

He grabbed a flashlight from his belt, shining the beam on Trista’s face. “Stay with me. Don’t you dare die on me.”

Her eyes were still wide and panicked, one of her hands still clutching at her throat. He expected to see blood streaming through her fingers, but all he saw was a thin trickle from a narrow, superficial cut.

She pointed over his shoulder. “Inhale—” More high-pitched wheezing.

“Inhaler?” Fuck. He was an idiot.

She’s having an asthma attack.

Pushing to his feet, he ran to the only car in the lot with its door wide open and grabbed her purse from the passenger seat. He dumped out the contents, easily finding the inhaler. As he ran back to her and knelt, he shook the inhaler, then put it to her mouth.

She wrapped her hands around the canister, pushed the button, and took a fast, deep breath, holding it.