Page 25 of Stone Cold Savage

Diesel’s bark grew farther and farther away, then suddenly became aggressive and quickly became louder again.

“He found someone, and he’s giving chase. Stay down. Here he comes.” Rip warned as he felt Devyn’s tiny frame tremble behind him.

“Oh shit.” She whispered. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“You’re safe. No matter what happens, you’re safe, Devyn.”

She began to gasp, “I-I can’t…”

With one hand extended in front of him, weapon in his grip, he shifted his body, reached behind himself with his free arm, and cradled Devyn against his body. He attempted to comfort her as best he could, given the situation, while still shielding her from whatever danger was threatening them. Despite the rapid pace of the scene unfolding before them, Rip's movements seemed to unfold in slow motion, reminiscent of a scene from a movie. “You’re okay, darlin’ stay put. You’re always safe with me.”

Loud, heavy footsteps in quick succession grew louder. Someone was running — running from Diesel and right for them. A shadowy figure came into view, and Rip prepared for the confrontation. He was hyper-focused on his target, ready to make a split-second decision to pull the trigger and ask questions later or face off with whatever threat was coming right for them.

“Don’t move,” he yelled just as the figure entered the doorway. “Don’t fucking move.”

The person stopped and threw their hands up, but Rip couldn’t determine who it was simply by their silhouette in the doorway. Diesel’s behavior struck him as odd when he began to dance around the character, and his bark shifted from menacing to almost playful. Diesel was taunting them, but why? Rip slowly approached, keeping Devyn right behind him like he was a human shield, hands still linked, protecting her.

“Will you call off your damn dog, or do you think this is funny? He keeps nipping at my ass.”

Rip relaxed, and he could feel the tension leave Devyn’s grip as well, and she emerged from behind him.

“You probably deserve it, Nash.” She teased. “What are you doing sneaking around out here anyway?”

“One, he’s frightening.” Nash pointed to Diesel, “Two, I’m not buying the whole sweet, gentle with-the-kitten bullshit. He wants to kill something, and I’m pretty sure he’s hoping it’s me.”

“He doesn’t want to kill you. He was just doing his job. He takes it pretty seriously.” Rip said while Diesel continued to bark and run circles around Nash. “Besides, when he’s a good boy and does his job, he gets his favorite toy to play with for a bit. It’s the only time he gets it.”

“How about you tell your good boy I’m not a bad guy and to… sit or something. Huh?” Nash nervously chuckled.

“Diesel, leave it,” Rip commanded. Diesel immediately stopped and watched Rip for his next command. “Sit.”

Diesel complied.

“You can pet him now,” Rip informed.

“I think I’ll pass and stick to the kitten,” Nash said, headed toward the basket it was sleeping in, but Diesel beat him to it and sat on guard, causing Nash to stop in his tracks. “Or, maybe I won’t. That’s clearly… his kitten.”

“If you pet him and make friends, he won’t feel like he needs to protect anyone or anything from you,” Rip said.

“Pretty sure he’s going to bite me no matter what you say, Rip.”

“Just do it, Nash,” Devyn said with an eye roll. She walked over and knelt beside the dog, letting him lick her face while she scratched his ears. Devyn grabbed his hand and placed it on the dog’s head. “Now pet him. Diesel’s a good boy, aren’t you? Such a handsome guy, sweet as can be.”

“Why are you talking to him in that voice? I’m not using a special voice.” Nash said and reluctantly pet the dog.

“Aww, Uncle Nash is a grump, isn’t he? Diesel likes this voice. See, he likes you. He was just working.”

“I think he’s tolerating me, but only because you’re right there, and he seems to love you for some reason.”

“He really has taken to her.” Rip said, “Never done that before. He’s trained to be a one-person dog and only protect, but here he is… failing all those years and dollars invested in training for a pretty girl.”

“Did you hear that, Diesel?” She said, still in her silly puppy talk voice, “He called me pretty. Sounds like you’re mine now, too.”

Nash finally pulled his hand away, and Diesel stared him down, “Yeah, I’m still a little afraid of him. That didn’t help. What is he, anyway? Yellow lab… on steroids? Part donkey, maybe?”

“Did you just call him a yellow lab?” Rip asked, offended.

“Yeah, I mean…” Nash looked between Rip and Diesel and shrunk under both of their stares, taking several steps backward. “I mean, no? He doesn’t look like one... at all. He looks like a big… tough…”

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