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But the familiar dog was faster.
Maggie. The sweet dog who had napped on my rug, who had rubbed her head against my hand and followed her master dutifully, now ran ahead of him.
Ronnie started screaming as Maggie’s teeth sank into the flesh of his legs.
“Get it off!” he cried.
Maggie did not get off. She was growling, tearing through his pants. I stared in both horror and a sick kind of relief.
“Maggie. Heel.” The stern voice cut through the growling and Ronnie’s screams.
Maggie instantly stopped her attack, sitting at Rowan’s heels which weren’t stationary for long. No, the second the dog let go of Ronnie, Rowan was on him.
He had Ronnie by the throat, dragging him away from me.
Ronnie didn’t even try to struggle. Not even a little. Presumably because he was nursing an injured leg, courtesy of Maggie, but mostly because he was now faced with a man, a real one, one who could snap him in half in a second.
Rowan.
Coming to my rescue.
Like it was his job.
Kip was hot on his heels. I didn’t know what both of them were going to do with Ronnie, but that wasn’t my business. Lori was my business.
I turned to her, watching tears stream down her cheeks.
“Honey,” I said tenderly. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
She shook her head rapidly, hiccupping.
“Has he hurt you?”
She nodded. Slower this time.
I opened my mouth then closed it again when I realized there was nothing I could say to make things better.
So, instead, I took her into my arms and hugged her, if only so she wouldn’t see Rowan beating the shit out of the man who had been hurting her for who knew how long.
In the end, the cops did not need to be called.
Lori had brothers.
Three of them.
Two of them turned up at the store and had words with Ronnie. Kip and Rowan stood close by, seemingly to ensure that they stuck to just words. At least with Lori present.
Rowan had not beat the man to a pulp as I’d expected him to. Maybe because of the audience, with Henry coming out of the store and Kip at his side. Or maybe because of Lori, sobbing in my arms. Ronnie’s worst injury was the one Maggie inflicted, which no one seemed too worried about, least of all Lori’s brothers.
One of her brothers was at the house the two of them shared, getting Ronnie’s things out. He was moving out.
Then they loaded her in her car and put the fear of God into Ronnie.
I hoped that the threats and the shame from today were enough to get him to leave Lori alone. But the problem with abusive men—men who believed that the world had wronged them—they tended not to learn. Especially when the woman they had been abusing was succeeding where they were failing.
My stomach churned with worry for Lori, fury at Ronnie for making it so she would not be at ease with herself or with men for a very long time.
It had rattled me. A lot. I had been through crap in my life… indifference, neglect… but never straight up physical abuse. I knew men were capable of that. Unfortunately. But knowing that and seeing it firsthand, to a sweet young girl, were two different things.
And I was rattled because Rowan had avoided me. Hadn’t spoken to me. Granted, he kind of had his hands full with Ronnie and then Lori’s brothers.
Maggie, on the other hand, had not left my side, pressing into my leg and tilting her head for scratches. Both of our eyes were on her dad, yet to look at either of us.
But with everyone leaving, he approached me, his face a cold mask that did nothing for my unease.
“Keys.” He held out his hand.
I blinked at him, at the command. My keys. He was asking for them with the single word, without any kind of please. I was well within my rights to tell him they were my keys, and I’d drive myself.
Part of me wanted to. But a larger part of me was still rattled, and as cold as he was being, I did long for him to take control. For his presence. Regardless of whether that was pathetic or not.
He grasped the keys I’d held out to him, his expression still granite.
“Get in the car,” he ordered.
I bristled at his tone and his expression… detached, unfamiliar. “What about your truck?”
“Kip’s taking care of it.”
I pinched my lips between my thumb and index finger. I did not like this version of Rowan. But I was coming to understand that this man was protective. To say the least. And I could recognize that there were two different versions of this man. The one with twinkling eyes and easy grins, and this one. The somber, dangerous, cold, demanding side. I guessed this was the soldier, the one who turned off the twinkling eyes and the smiles in order to get through whatever he went through.
