Page 112 of Salvaged Hearts

When in doubt, quiet is the answer. Absentmindedly stroking over Chip’s fur, I wondered if Grey ever would have said something about thatmaddening attraction. Wondered if I hadn’t quit, if the allegations hadn’t hit…if he ever would have made a move.

Unlikely, I supposed. Perhaps years down the road, once I was an executive and there was less paperwork involved?

Somehow, the thought was immensely disappointing. Especially as images of his smile, the ringing of his laugh, the feel of his stubble against my thighs all ran through my mind. With a sigh, I traded Chip for the pen and notebook I’d tucked into my tote bag, and he harrumphed into a tight little ball against my thigh.

Elora was a huge proponent of journaling, and while I wasn’t nearly as enthusiastic as she was, I had to admit it helped the last few weeks.

A tiny, cold nose booped my wrist as I finished filling the second page, sending the ink off the edge. He gave a little shiver as the breeze kicked up, rotating to sit and stare back at thehouse. By the time I’d turned my attention to my miniature-sized furry companion, the last of the light had vanished.

Without warning, Chip leaped from my side, bristling as he growled at the waves in that compact voice of his. Every hair on my skin rose before I could assess whatever had him ticked off.

But Jax’s bellowed warning had me flying upright, sending sand flying.

“Alice,run!”

Greyson

Between being a much moreactive participant withThunderstrikesince Izzie’s murder, and tackling a massive merger at work, my shoulders and head were both aching by the time I got home Friday evening. The house was mellow, and while I couldn’t wait to hold her, Alice looked entirely at peace on our beach with Chip in her lap and Jax keeping eyes out behind them.

Better to let her be and catch up once my head wasn’t throbbing so adamantly. Like a hammer between the eyes. Captain glued himself to my thigh, quirking his head as I deliberated going to her or clearing my head, following when I decided on the latter.

Upstairs, stripped, and under the deluge of water, I took a minute to breathe. Captain dramatically collapsed onto the tile floor with a series of thuds, huffs and sighs that ultimately landed with him watching me through the glass. His obligation to lay on the tile was obviously deeply ailing.

Linking the Gilberts toObsidianwasn’t so much surprising as disheartening but only marginally less horrifying than oursuspicions about Reggie—though his connection was yet to be verified. If money and power came with responsibility, why did so many of my peers collapse into evil? Some part of my mind said it was because money doesn’t change people, it simply magnifies them. The selfish, desperate, and cruel remain that way. They just have more influence after clawing their way into the upper echelon of society. My uncle, father, and grandfather were cruel, scared, and spineless as children and became bullies who hid behind their wealth. On the opposite end of the spectrum were people like Alice, who suddenly had access to and influence over more money than most people saw in a lifetime and used it to fund scholarships for foster dog-parents and provide aid to families affected by wars in countries we would never see. She was loving before wealth. The money just gave that love a reach more people could feel.

It was the low rumble in Captain’s chest, his enormous head lifting from where it rested on his paws and staring at the far wall that drew my focus.

“Cap?” I demanded as I stepped out of the shower, snatching a towel from the rack. Instincts rearing to life as I watched his muzzle twitch, I forgot about drying off and rushed into boxers, but before I’d yanked on sweatpants, Captain’s growl spiked, and he bolted from the room, barking his damn head off.

Alice.

Panic hit like a SWAT team battering ram. I couldn’t remember the last time my dog alerted.

Bypassing a shirt and shoes, I made my way to my bedside table to retrieve the firearm concealed within the lockbox beneath it and bolted after him.

My usually mellow canine was feral at the back door, jaw snapping, saliva flying, bark more of a desperate cry. “Defend!” I ordered as I wrenched the handle and threw it wide. Outside was a calamity of noises all at once—Jax’s bellowed demand formy wife to run, Alice’s scream and the keening wail of what I assumed was Chip. My feet were flying before I had the luxury of my eyes adjusting to the darkness. By the time I crested the beach, I could see enough.

Two assailants.

One intercepted by Jax, the other chasing Alice, where she was fighting gravity and the dunes of sand to get back to me.

Chip flew by my ankles in a screeching blur of white.

The second assailant lunged for Alice, my shout of warning too late as he lifted her off her now-kicking feet. A curtain of sand flew as she screamed, and he expertly positioned her between us, still pulling her away from me.

I dropped the gun I’d raised on instinct, barreling after Captain’s streak of shadow slicing through the night. That ferocious growl came to a crescendo a beat before he collided with her attacker, and all three tumbled into the sand.

“Alice!” I bellowed, more so she knew I was coming for her than anything. A male voice wailed in agony as she sobbed my name back, and my heart broke in two. I had to move faster. Had to reach her. Had to get there in time.

A corner of my mind registered the house alarm finally screeching to life, floodlights powering on to illuminate the yard, enough falling onto the skirmish to make more sense of what I was seeing. The alarm system would send security responding like a fleet of pissed-off wasps and notify the police. But the entire world ceased to exist beyond Alice.

My wife was scrambling to her feet by the time I reached her—the yard expanse suddenly an eternity of torture—and it took all my training to keep my head on a swivel, to make sure there weren’t more men coming for us as Captain’s livid snarls and the attacker’s cries of pain clouded my head.

Determining these two were alone, I scooped her into my arms before hoisting her behind me. Rotating to follow,determined to get her out of harm’s way, I shoved her up the sand onto our grass and demanded, “Run!”

My girl ran, but only for a breath before Captain’s bark turned into a desperate cry of pain. His growls returned, but the next whine had me whirling. Yip after yip, snarl after snarl, as the assailant jammed his fist into my dog.

My Cap.

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