Page 19 of Mine to Protect

“Ruhe,” I commanded to prevent Benny from attacking, pulling him to an abrupt halt. Adrenaline pumping, I slumped against the wall. With one more ‘I’ll eat you’ glare at Agent Peters, Benny nudged his cold, wet nose against my leg, tucking his head beneath my waiting hand.

Thirty seconds maybe? That whole scene escalated quickly.

“The jugular,” I stated as I held the aching lump forming on my head.

“What?” Agent Peters said, now several steps away.

“He’s trained to go for the jugular, not your… guy stuff.”

“I’d like to keep that part of my anatomy too. I hear it’s kind of important for survival,” he tried to joke.

I huffed a small laugh, more to ease the tense air between us than anything else. “Sorry. As you can see, I startle easy. Normally I don’t let people get that close.”

Agent Peters nodded as if he understood. “You feel comfortable around us, as you should. Even the mute in the other room is one of the good guys, though he doesn’t act like it.”

The way he seemed to read my thoughts and put me at ease set off alarms. Still rubbing my head to ease the throb, I watched him watching me. “What division of the FBI are you in again?”

He smirked like a cat playing with a mouse. “As I said earlier in your boss’s office, you’re very perceptive. I’m in the Special Sciences division.”

“As in….”

“I help form profiles to assist teams around the US in finding and apprehending the mark, like our serial killer. If we learn his habits, how and why he targets these women, what his signature is, then we can stop him from taking another woman. Unlike in the old days when the police could only hope for a strong tip or the person to mess up.”

I swallowed against a dry throat. “That’s cool.” But it wasn’t. I didn’t need or want a guy with his training around, one who would dig in my head.

Sergeant Mathews stepped into the living room, making me forget about my throbbing head. Donning a black North Face jacket and gray beanie, all he needed was a Harley outside to complete the hot-as-heck bad boy display of everything masculine. Without a word, he raised a dark brow as he glanced between Agent Peters and me.

Again I cleared my throat, hoping it would prevent my voice from shaking. “Agent Peters was— “

“Chandler.” Sergeant Mathews jabbed his thumb in the direction of Agent Peters. “And Cas. If you’re working with us, drop the titles, would ya?” He glanced to Chandler. “That damn agent title inflated his already big-ass head.”

“You’re good with words, you know that, Mathews?” Chandler joked as he slapped Cas on the back. “You should cross-stitch that on a pillow or something.”

“Good idea. Then I could fucking smother you with it.”

From my spot against wall, I lifted my hand and waited for them to notice. Both men smirked at my raised palm. “Are y'all partners or something?” I asked.

Chandler wrapped an arm around Cas’s shoulders and tugged him close for a tight side hug. “For this assignment, yeah, you can call us partners. But we’ve known each other for a while. We served a deployment or two together.”

Cas shrugged out of Chandler’s hold, keeping his eyes locked with mine. “Your command earlier, was that in German?”

My eyes widened. I didn’t realize he’d heard all that. “How did you—”

“A guy in my unit had a bomb dog.”

Chandler and I stayed silent, waiting for more of his story.

“And?” I finally urged, making the right corner of lip twitch upward.

“He commanded his dog in German too. Said a lot of military dogs were trained that way.”

I shifted to gaze down at Benny, who was still nuzzled tight against my leg. We were perfect for each other. Two troubled souls looking for a way to get through the rest of our lives without additional pain or fear. I ran a hand over his head and scratched behind his hears. I loved him, and he loved me.

“Where’d ya get him?” Cas asked.

Benny’s coarse coat tickled my palm. “A friend of a friend. Benny was in the military too, but—” With both hands, I covered Benny’s pointed ears with my palms like makeshift earmuffs. “—his handler died, and they couldn’t place him with anyone else. He was depressed, you know. He lost his best friend. They were about to put him down,” I whispered. “Then someone who knew my situation suggested I meet him. We’ve been together ever since.”

After releasing Benny’s ears, I crouched to scratch his broad chest. A thick, wet tongue swiped up my cheek over and over.

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