Page 54 of Taming Bull

Lily

THE PARK WAS bustling with activity when Brahma and I arrived Sunday afternoon. Sun shining, temperature in the low eighties, it was the perfect combination to draw every kid in the neighborhood between ages two and ten. The energetic little psychos ran back and forth from the dog park to the play structure in some bizarre game of tag with rules I was clearly too old to understand. Regardless, the entire group had come to the consensus that a little boy named Dylan was cheating and they wanted him to stop. They kept yelling it over and over.

Johnny saw me and Brahma approach and peeled off from the group to join us, tackling the dog in a hug.

“What’s going on here?” I asked, eyeing the rambunctious kids.

Johnny pointed at a brown-skinned child in the middle of the group who had the frustrated expression of someone trying to herd cats or decode instructions in a foreign language. I couldn’t help but feel bad for him. “That’s Oscar. He just joined a flag football team, so he’s trying to teach us the rules.” He pointed to another little boy. “That’s Dylan. He says it’s Opposite Day and we need to do the opposite of whatever Oscar says.”

Chaos. Complete and total pandemonium. I’d known Dylans in my lifetime, and they all needed a swift kick in the ass. “If you want to keep playing with Oscar, you can. BB and I are gonna be here for a while.”

“No. Oscar’s okay, but Dylan’s kind of a bully, and I would much rather spend time with BB. Huh, boy?” Johnny pulled a ball out of his pocket.

Brahma did his best not to roll his eyes at me before dutifully running after the ball. Call me crazy, but I didn’t think fetch was his favorite game.

Parents loomed along the sidelines and chatted as their spawns raced back, screaming about cheaters, in their sabotaged game of flag football. Finding Shelly, I sidled up to her and asked how she was doing.

“Good. Much better than Tina over there.” She nodded toward a woman with streaked mascara running down her face. “Apparently her husband lost his temper yesterday and she had to file a restraining order against him.” Shelly shook her head. “Poor woman. I thought John was bad, but at least the cheating bastard never laid a hand on me or Johnny. I probably would have snapped, killed him, and ended up in jail. You know it’s a horrible state of affairs when I feel lucky my husband wasjusta cheater.”

“Men can be assholes,” I agreed. “But there are good ones out there.”

She didn’t look so sure. “I’ll have to take your word for it. I have no intention of going down that road again any time soon.”

I almost offered to introduce her to some hot, single veterans, but it was too soon. Shelly needed time to heal before she even thought about diving into another relationship. It had taken Bull more than two years. I was hoping it wouldn’t take her nearly as long because she was a good person who shouldn’t have to be lonely.

Every time Bull so much as crossed my mind, I felt twitterpated, like I was in some sweet Disney movie, dancing among the wildlife as I made plans for the perfect future with the man of my dreams. Monica had ratted him out for donating an engagement ring—a ring that had to be Amber’s—to Ladies First. She’d sent me a picture and everything. Seeing the ring he’d intended to marry another woman with was difficult, but the knowledge that he’d donated it helped wipe the tears from my eyes. My man was finally moving on, and he was doing sowithme. His progress was huge, and I was so damn excited I could hardly sit still.

Thinking of Ladies First had me eyeing Tina. Monica had stocked me with the group’s business cards with situations like this in mind. I didn’t know Tina from Eve, and there was something seriously fucked up about me inviting myself into her business. The idea of walking over and striking up a conversation about a stranger’s abusive ex didn’t appeal to me at all. But, I had resources that could possibly offer the help she needed. Others had helped me, and it would be a dick move not to return the favor.

Karma seemed to finally be on my side, and I wasn’t about to fuck that up.

Gathering my courage, I pulled a business card from my backpack and marched toward Tina. She had friends on either side of her, making me rethink my interference. Clearly, she had people. I bet she had this shit covered and didn’t need my resources at all. Still, I was already on the move, so I might as well connect. Worst case scenario, she’d tell me to mind my own business, and I’d avoid her anytime I came to the park. Or maybe we’d find a different park to meet Shelly and Johnny at.

When I was halfway to Tina, she looked up at me. Her eyes widened with fear.

I froze wondering why the hell she was looking at me like that.

She bolted to her feet. “No, Matt! Someone stop him! He has Dylan!”

Oh. She was looking behind me to where the kids were running. I spun around to see a dark-haired man in his later thirties who had Dylan the bully wrapped in his arms. He was tugging the boy away from the field as Dylan flailed his arms and legs, trying to get away.

“Mom!” Dylan shouted.

I was the closest adult to them.

There was no time to think shit through. My legs automatically started running on their own, closing the distance between me and Dylan. All that sprinting practice finally proved useful as I dashed across the field at my top speed. I don’t know how many other adults were at my back—if any—but Matt looked up, saw me, and doubled his efforts. Dylan went crazy, and Matt backhanded him. The kid’s eyes widened as shock and anger restricted his movements.

Matt kept backpedaling, but I was gaining on him. My legs and chest burned, but adrenaline and momentum carried me. Dylan saw me and ducked. I lunged at Matt, and he released the kid. Our bodies crashed together in a loud thwack. Pain registered, sending fire up my left side. Dylan rolled to the side. Matt went down with me on top of him. He grunted as the air was knocked out of him.

Holding still, I took stock of my aching body. I was sore, but nothing felt broken. My ears rang. In the background, I could hear one of the parents shouting something about the police being on their way.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Matt asked, his hands wrapped around my throat. “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you, you interfering little bi—” The word was cute off with a blood curling scream.

Matt’s grip relaxed. I moved out of his strangling range and found Brahma, his teeth locked around the bastard’s jean-clad leg. Shocked, it took me a minute to register what I was seeing. I hadn’t seen my dog run, nor had I heard him bark or let out any sort of warning before he attacked. He’d seen that I was in danger, and reacted. Matt tried to kick his leg free, but Brahma growled and doubled down. My sweet, borderline lethargic rescue mutt was a vicious guard dog after all.

Who knew?

“Good boy,” I crooned.

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