Page 86 of His to Protect

Chapter 19

Trina

I sensed something wasn’t right as soon as the metal door to the alley clanged shut behind me.

“Boomer?” I called his name as I took a step toward him.

He stood with his whole body tensed, his ears back, staring at the large dumpster, making small, quiet whimpering noises.

“Boomer?” I said again and took another step toward him. He continued ignoring me. His tail stuck straight out behind him, not wagging in his typical easygoing manner. “What is it, boy?” I ran my hand along the top of his head when I reached him, and was surprised to hear him release a low growl.

My dog didn’t growl.

Except when he was being threatened.

Anxiety sparked in my veins and I wrapped my fingers around his collar, pulling him back toward the restaurant. “Come on, boy. Let’s go inside.”

Declan would be furious, but I didn’t care. I also figured he’d get over it.

I yanked Boomer’s collar again when he let out a fierce bark and lunged forward, but the leash that I’d installed for him jolted him backward.

A sickening laugh echoed in the alley and I immediately jumped back.

“Seems to me that your fucking mutt hasn’t learned anything in the weeks you’ve been gone, Katrina.”

My blood chilled as Kevin stepped out from his hiding spot.

My eyes widened and I stepped closer to Boomer, seeking protection from my husband. With his perfectly styled blond hair and narrowed blue eyes, he looked exactly like the man who beat me up just weeks ago.

Evil.

Sick.

Cowardly.

That’s what he was. Always had been.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice strained and my words thick.

My hand on Boomer’s back trembled with fear when Kevin began walking toward me, and I noticed the gun in his hand.

He had a gun.

“You’ll be coming with me.” He spoke as if we were talking about the weather, or an upcoming dinner. So calm and collected, but I’d seen the darkness that raged beneath his perfectly chiseled looks and designer suits. “I told you last week that this game of yours is over.”

I shook my head rapidly, pulling Boomer toward me while I stepped back, keeping him in front of me.

“You’ll stop right there.” Kevin lifted his hand, aiming the gun at Boomer, and I froze immediately. “I wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“I’m not leaving with you. I told you over the phone, Kevin. I’m never returning to your home, or to Kentucky.”

He tilted his head to the side. “But you’ll stay here? Slumming it with a bar owner? You’re better than that.”

“I’m better than you,” I sneered, anger and fury beginning to replace the fear I should have been feeling.

I wasn’t afraid. Not of Kevin hurting me. Not anymore.

I had learned too much about myself, tolerated his abuse for far too long, to allow myself to be cowed by him and his threats.

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