Page 7 of Stone Cold Savage

“Hey, Beau.” She said calmly. “We’re going to play a game, okay, buddy?”

“Yes! I like games!”

“Me too!”

“Good. Now, grab your sister’s hand and walk her back to the house as quickly and safely as you can so she doesn’t fall. Stick together. I’m going to stand right here and count to see how long it takes you, okay?”

“I can do that.”

“Good. You’re such––”

The crackling debris on the wooded floor was becoming more frequent and at multiple paces, causing her breath to catch as panic threatened to settle in. There wasn’t one predator. There were multiple. Coyotes weren’t uncommon in the area, and they tended to travel in packs, depending on the time of year, but they never saw them during daylight.

“Such a good boy.” She finished. “Now hurry. Safely.”

Devyn looked over her shoulder and saw the two little ones making their way toward the house. Then, she began to slowly walk backward in that direction herself.

“Aunt Devvy, you aren’t counting.”

“Good catch, baby Beau. One, two…” she gasped when she saw a shadowy image move between the trees and the sound of movement growing louder. Her voice trembled, “Three, four…”

She looked back once more, and the kids were still too close to whatever –– or whoever –– was coming right at them through those trees. Devyn stayed put to provide a barrier or obstacle. She would use herself as a shield to protect her niece and nephew.

“Hurry, buddy. Keep going.” She hollered. “Quicker, okay?”

“Okay, Auntie Devvy.” The little boy yelled back. “We’re almost there.”

Devyn confirmed his report and picked up her pace, trying to keep the panic threatening to overcome her at bay. The last thing she wanted to do was frighten the children, much less put them in the line of fire. But just as she’d convinced herself that they were safe, that it was her overly active imagination and that nobody could get on the property without the agents interceding, a six-foot-something image breached the edge of the tree line.

Devyn froze in fear as he came out of the shadows and into the light. His hair was long but shaved on the sides, and tattoos covered any visible skin. His clothing was dark, hugging a larger-than-life muscular frame. His beard covered a menacing look, and sharp, piercing blue eyes fixed on her.

“No,” she said under her breath, noting he was wearing at least two guns, holstered under each arm, held a black bag and a knife and other tools that were strapped to his waist.

She didn’t recognize him from Ransom’s detail, nor did he appear friendly. This was the shit that made the bumps in the night feel like a fairytale. He was the kind of vision everyone feared as they walked by a dark alley. Menace and mischief rolled off of him if his deep, penetrating stare was any indication of who Devyn was staring down. To make matters worse, a large dog was at his side wearing a dark vest with words she could not read, a cage-like muzzle over his snout, and a thick metal prong collar around its neck, staring her down. Devyn could almost hear a growl but wasn’t sure if it was from the man or the dog.

“Beau. Run!” she dropped the bowl of strawberries and screamed. “Run, baby!”

When Devyn began to run, she first stumbled and then got back to her feet, only to see the man running right for her. Adrenaline replaced fear, and she ran as fast as she could toward the house, sensing him getting closer by the second. It didn’t matter, though. She just needed the children to get to the house and for her to get close enough for her family to hear her and come running.

“Coy!” she screamed. “Help! Coy!”

Beau stopped and looked back, eyes wide, when he saw the scene behind him.

“Run, Beau! Run! Dally, go, baby! Hurry!” she screamed again, “Somebody, help!”

Beau held his sister’s hand and pulled her along, making it the rest of the way to the house and up the steps just as Coy and Dillon emerged from the back door, weapons drawn. Cut and Nash scooped up the children and ran them inside, and Devyn could finally breathe. They were safe, even if she wasn’t.

The dog began to bark, closing in on her, and she felt the man so close as if the ground quaked with his every step from his sheer size, letting her know just how close he was. When the man’s arm snaked around her waist and lifted her from the ground, the air in her lungs escaped her. He was still running toward the house, holding her like she was nothing more than a rag doll under his arm.

A blood-curdling scream escaped her as her instinct to fight kicked in. Devyn put every ounce of muscle she had behind each punch and kick. Despite hearing the man grunt with each impactful hit, he continued on, headed straight for Coy and Dillon, unaffected by Devyn’s assault.

Confusion set in when she looked out in front of her and saw Dillon and Coy lower their weapons despite her captor pulling his with his free hand. Were they afraid to fire and hit her? She didn’t care about the risk and only wanted this man stopped before he could hurt their family.

“Shoot him!” She yelled. “Shoot him!”

But they didn’t shoot. They just… stood there.

“Damn it!” she yelled, realizing they weren’t going to sacrifice her even though she’d damn near said the words.

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