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Her attacker grabbed a handful of hair and yanked her toward him. “You dumb bitch. I’m going to enjoy making you pay for that.”
Chet tensed and watched Otto, willing him to bust free.
Otto threw himself against the barrier, snapping his jaw. The door flew open. Otto leapt into the air, sinking his teeth into the man’s leg.
Mia’s assailant flailed, releasing her as he kicked out his leg.
Chet stormed forward. He pushed through the half-door just as the man sprang loose from Otto’s death grip. He kicked Otto’s side, sending him into the metal grate of the cage. He faced Chet, knife in hand, and charged. He held the blade high as he ran, swiping downward.
Chet pivoted, but not before the sharp edge swiped down the side of his torso. A burning pain erupted, and he dropped to the ground. Blood coated his shirt, and a hiss of pain blew through his mouth.
The man fled out the door.
Mia collapsed on the ground beside him. “Oh my God! You’re hurt. He stabbed you.”
“Call the police,” he said through clenched teeth. “They need to go after him.”
Mia shifted him so he laid on his back then peeled his shirt from his torso. A deep gash sliced from the side of his waist down to his hip. “You need an ambulance. Now.”
The dogs barked and howled. Desperate to be let loose to give chase.
Mia clasped a hand over his wound and applied pressure while she called 911.
Whining, Otto limped over and laid on the floor, resting his head on Chet’s lap.
Chet closed his eyes, focusing on the heat of Mia’s skin on his. The touch of her soft fingers. The sound of her voice. And tried to force out the loud voice inside him yelling that he’d almost been too late to keep woman under his protection safe. Again.
* * *
Blood coated Mia’s hands.Terror shook her body. She had no idea how to help him, how to stop more blood from flowing from the knife wound on his side. All she could do was stay calm while keeping pressure on his wound and waiting for paramedics to come.
The dogs barked, not understanding the danger was gone. Otto stayed glued to Chet’s side.
Chet propped himself up to a sitting position and leaned against the wall. He winced, his pain evident on the twisted lines of his face. “Stop fretting. I’m fine.”
She choked out a pinched laugh over the ball of emotion clogging her throat. “Are you kidding me? You were stabbed. There’s blood everywhere.”
Brooke stormed inside, her brown hair swirling around her face and a gun trained in her steady hands.
“Chet’s hurt,” Mia yelled up at her. “Ambulance is on the way.”
Chet’s growl combined with the flurry of anxious dogs. “Go after him, Brooke. Call Lincoln and tell him to search the woods. Release the damn dogs. Do whatever you have to. Don’t let that bastard leave this property.”
“For fuck’s sake, Chet.” Brooke rushed inside and dropped to her knees. “I can’t just leave and let you bleed out. I remember enough of my training. Let me take a look while we wait for the EMT’s. You’ve lost a lot of blood. We shouldn’t wait longer than necessary to try and stop you from losing more.”
“Finally, someone with some sense,” Mia said. She scooted to the side, calling Otto to her, allowing Brooke the space she needed to look over Chet, surprised when Chet tightened his grip on her hand to keep her from going too far.
Brooke slowly lifted Chet’s shirt up his torso. “Looks like capillary bleeding. You’re lucky. Mia, help him take his shirt off while I wash my hands. And Chet, lay down. You should know better.”
Chet grumbled, as he yanked up his shirt. “Which is it? Take off my shirt or lay down?”
Brooke rolled her eyes and rushed away. “Down. Quiet. Stay,” Her tone was hard as she barked out commands to the dogs, who all went quiet.
“Here. Let me help.” Mia shooed away his hands. She unbuttoned his flannel then slid it off his shoulders. Blood rushed to her ears and heated her face. His hard muscles burned the tips of her fingers. She swallowed hard, pushing down the stupid reaction her body had to being so damn close to him. He was bleeding, and she’d barely escaped the clutches of a killer, her heart shouldn’t be galloping in her chest because she was about to see him without a shirt on.
With the flannel off, she gripped the hem of the gray T-shirt he wore underneath. Her knuckles grazed against his abdomen, and he sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m sorry. Does that hurt?”
His eyes locked on hers, his pupils dilated. “No.”
