Page 40 of Perfectly Leashed
“No.” The word came out stronger than he felt.
“No?” The second man’s eyebrows rose. “I don’t think you understand. This isn’t a request.”
Meatball’s growl deepened, the pit bull’s muscles coiled tight. Atlas stepped forward, his massive frame creating a barrier between Darcy and the men. Even little Princess Consuela had finally stopped shaking, her tiny teeth bared.
“Actually, I think you’re the ones who don’t understand,” Darcy said, drawing strength from the dogs’ courage. “I’m not calling anyone. And I’m not going anywhere with you.”
The first man’s smile faded. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, pet. Your choice.”
“Neither,” Darcy replied calmly. “I choose option three.”
“Which is?”
He dropped the leashes.
“Attack!” he commanded, putting every ounce of authority he could muster into his voice.
For a split second, nothing happened.
Then the dogs exploded into motion. Meatball launched himself at the first man’s legs while Atlas went high, his massive paws slamming into the second man’s chest. Jimbo and Princess Consuela darted between them, creating chaos as the men stumbled and cursed.
Darcy didn’t wait to see the outcome. He sprinted down the sidewalk, his phone already in his hand, dialing Luca’s number as his feet pounded the pavement.
“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” he panted into the phone.
“Hey, mi amor,” Luca’s voice came through, warm and familiar.
“Hyenas!” Darcy gasped out between breaths. “They want to use me as bait. The dogs are—”
He glanced back to see the two men fighting to untangle themselves from four furious dogs.
A low, dangerous growl rumbled through the phone. “Where are you?”
“Maple Street, near the park. The dogs are—” Darcy risked another look back and saw the men had managed to separate themselves from the dogs, who were now circling warily.
“I’m on my way,” Luca snarled. “Get somewhere public. Now.”
“The dogs—”
“Will be fine. They’re tougher than they look. Just run, mi amor.”
Darcy’s lungs burned as he pushed himself harder, his sneakers slapping against the concrete. Behind him, he could hear the men giving chase, their footsteps heavy and determined.
The park came into view—and with it, a group of morning joggers and a woman pushing a stroller. Darcy had never been so happy to see random strangers in his life.
He burst into the open space, gasping. “Help! Those men are chasing me!”
The joggers turned, their faces shifting from confusion to alarm as they saw the two men pursuing him. One of them, a woman in her forties, immediately pulled out her phone.
“I’m calling the police,” she announced loudly.
The hyenas skidded to a halt at the edge of the park, their expressions shifting from predatory to frustrated. They couldn’t make a move with so many witnesses around.
The first man caught Darcy’s eye and smiled that cold, razor-edged smile again. Then he pointed two fingers at his own eyes before pointing them at Darcy—a clear message.
We’re watching you.
Then both men melted back into the surrounding streets, disappearing as quickly as they’d appeared.
