Page 24 of Stone Cold Savage

“I believe that’s fight or flight, and you chose fight. It’s a reliable instinct, and yours clearly works.” He continued to tease.

“Rip…”

“Devyn, you went from a simple life as a law student, safe with all the freedom in the world, to being shot at, nearly run over, and if you count your first encounter with me… being chased by a strange man in the woods.”

“And his dog.” She said and winked at Diesel.

“Right. And his insanely threatening and lethal beast.” Rip turned to Diesel, who was still resting his head in the basket with the kitten. “Who’s suddenly into cats and has motherly instincts.”

“He does love her.”

“What he wouldn’t give to chase a squirrel or flock of just about any bird, but cats… who knew.”

Devyn smiled at Diesel, “I think he knows she’s small –– just a baby. She needs to be protected.”

“Kind of like how he latched onto you?” Rip asked.

“I don’t need to be protected.” She argued.

“Are you sure about that?” he pointed to his bruising eye, “It’s okay not to have it all figured out and… to be afraid. This is all foreign to you. You’ve probably had more trauma in the past week than your entire life, am I right?”

She hesitated to answer at first, then gave in, “Maybe.”

“Then stop fighting it. Stop trying to prove to your brothers and sister that you’re all grown and can take care of yourself. Stop overcompensating because it’s only putting you in more danger. Let them protect you. It’s okay to be scared and let them look out for you. For me to look out for you… before you get yourself or someone else hurt.”

“You think I’m being defiant.” She stated, daring him to challenge her.

“I think you’re being something.”

“You don’t even know me, Rip.” She guffawed.

“I know enough to know you’re smarter than this. I see how you look at all of them and how you want them to look at you.”

Devyn tossed her hands in the air in exasperation, “Oh my God. Are you a damn therapist now? What is this, Rip?”

“It’s honesty. From a stranger who has nothing to lose or gain here.”

“Do you feel better?” she said sarcastically, taking to her feet, “You know, about yourself after that little pep talk? Coy send you out here, or did Dillon?”

“Neither.” He said, following suit. “Just offering a friendly observation and maybe a little advice, but I see you don’t want to hear it.”

Diesel suddenly stood tall and was on full alert. A subtle growl that was barely a grumble escaped him like a warning, which Rip quickly interpreted as danger.

“Quick, get behind me,” Rip said, tucking Devyn behind him and pulling his weapon as he backed them into a corner between large pieces of gym equipment. “Don’t move.”

“Rip, it’s probably…”

He didn’t even turn to look at her; he simply kept his stare locked in the direction Diesel’s attention was directed.

“Diesel, watch’em,” Rip commanded, and the dog slowly but methodically moved toward the door and began to bark like some kind of tactical maneuver was underway.

“Watch what?” Devyn whispered. “Rip, what’s going on?”

“He sees someone or something. Stay behind me while he flushes them out.” Rip said.

“Oh no. Someone’s out there? What about the agents and…”

“You’re safe,” Rip reassured, though his tone was flat and lacked emotion. He was as focused as the dog breaching the door and going out of view. “Let him work.”

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