Page 66 of Twisted Knight

Dom let out a cry as his shopping bags hit the ground, soon followed by his massive body.

“Dom!” I screamed, running toward him as the blond man turned around, a long bloody knife in his hand.

My phone fell on the ground, and I could hear Luca shout in the background.

“You should thank me,” he said, looking down at Dom and the dark blood spreading alarmingly fast on the white sidewalk.

I reached in my bag for my taser and put it on his neck at full force, then I knelt on the ground as the man fell unconscious. “Luca, he’s hurt!” I shouted, pressing one hand against Dom’s wounds as I grabbed my phone and put it on speakerphone.

“We’re about thirty minutes out, India. Do you see anything that could help?”

I looked around; the streets were dark and deserted—like in a bad horror movie. Like the horror movie my life was bound to be if Dom died on the pavement. My eyes stopped on a vet office with some dim light coming from the back.

“There’s a vet. I'm not sure.” I shook my head, looking at Dom’s paling face. He was dying there in the street, his blood soaking the white stones of the sidewalk slowly but still much too fast for me. I let out a tearless sob. “I’m going to lose him; Luca; please do something.”

“You grab the gun in the holster of his left ankle, and you make that vet help.Capiche?” The voice I recognized now was the man from the hospital.

“I-I don’t know how to use a gun.” My mind was reeling; it couldn’t be real—this couldn’t be it.

“You don’t have to; he just needs to think you can.” The commanding coldness behind the man’s words helped me keep my mind from being completely overwhelmed with worry.

He sounded so calm and composed; he had to know it would be alright.

“Okay, I can do this, but please come,” I begged. I left the phone on the ground, grabbed the small gun on Dom’s ankle, and ran to the glass door of the veterinary practice.

I banged my fist on the door, looking at Dom and the man on the ground.

Please, God, don’t do it; don’t take him away from me.

I let out a little cry of victory as a middle-aged man dressed in scrubs came to the door warily.

He opened the door slightly.

“Sorry, we’re clo—”

I pushed the door with all my strength, making him stumble.

“He-he got stabbed! You have to help him now!” I asked, pointing a shaky, bloody finger toward Dom.

He looked and paled. “Ma’am, I’m not a doctor. I’m a veterinarian.”

I pointed the gun at him, my hand shaking so much I was not sure I would have hit anything even if I wanted to.

“You have to help him now! There’s no doctor.”

The man raised his hands, looking from my shaking hand to my tear-stricken face.

“I’ll try to help… Just put the gun down, miss. I’m not your enemy.” He pointed at the back. “Just let me get the trolley cart we use for big dogs. I'll be right out.”

I rushed back as the man on the floor started to stir. I tased him again for good measure and hoped the vet didn’t lie to me and he was not in the back calling the police while the man I loved was bleeding out on the pavement.

“Don’t leave me, Dom; we’ve got so much to discuss,” I begged, pressing on his wound again.

My prayers were answered when the man appeared with the cart. “The nearest hospital is an hour away.” He looked down at Dom. “He won’t make it that long.”

“I know,” I replied, my voice breaking.

I helped the man put Dom on the cart.

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