Page 46 of One Cut Deeper
“He made it clear he’d be traveling often with Doctors Without Borders and needed both medical care and kenneling with a hands-on, personal approach. He had us all eating out of his hand. I heard one clinic built a kennel for large breed dogs in hopes of gaining the contract. Boy was he pissed when we won instead.” Her laughter stills and she squeezes my shoulder, her eyes kind. “I don’t know all the details, just that you’ve been through hell. I hope Mac takes as good care of you as he does Sheba.”
I smile tremulously. “He is. He’s so good to me. This—” I wave the certificate, “—is the icing on the cake.”
18
After a hot shower, I pile up the pillows in bed so I can read for a while. Charlie didn’t call tonight, but he texted at eight that he was headed to the airport and to skip edging for the night. That means he’s going to be edging me himself when he gets home.
I can hardly wait. Hopefully he’ll be home before midnight so we can ring in the New Year together. I posted a modest pic of the still vibrant bite mark on my breast to my friends’ Discord channel yesterday, and I’m still getting private messages about how gorgeous the bruises are. Maybe he’ll give me something new to post. A black-and-blue ass, maybe. Though he’ll have to use some kind of paddle to leave any lasting marks, and neither of us seem to want any toys yet.
I’m perfectly happy with his hands and teeth.
Reading a spicy romance doesn’t help matters any. When I finally put the e-reader aside, I turn to my favorite cookbook. I have all the ingredients to make a decadent cheesecake tomorrow. It’s been a while since I baked, so I want to read through the instructions a few times.
Sheba lifts her head and stares at the doorway.Charlie.
Smiling, I fluff up the pillows to put myself on display for him. Of course I’m naked. In the Master’s bed, the slave should always be naked. Maybe he’ll order me to stay naked all day tomorrow too. I could bake his cheesecake—
A low, rumbling growl breaks through my sensual thoughts. She would never growl at him like that. I scramble out of bed and grab my phone. I turned the alarm on as he ordered, but I didn’t bother shutting the bedroom door, not if he’ll be coming home in a couple of hours. I don’t think anyone can get inside.
Still, my heart pounds so hard I feel faint and goosebumps race up my arms. Hugging myself, I look around the room for a bit of clothing. I’ve been wearing one of his T-shirts around the house, and I tug it over my head. At least it covers the pertinent parts, though it’s thin enough my nipples stand out against the light cotton.
“Hello?”
Sheba creeps out into the hallway, her ruff standing high along her back. Her growl intensifies. I grip my phone tightly, but I doubt he’ll call. Not if he’s on the plane. He won’t have any idea that I need him. That someone—
The outside motion lights flicker on, and I can’t stifle a gasp of dismay. “Sheba? Guard! Guard!”
Her massive form is outlined in the doorway. Head low, tail stiff behind her, her powerful haunches braced, she stares intently down the hallway. Glass tinkles, faint but unmistakable. She charges down the hallway, snarling, and hits something with a solid thud.
A man yells and Sheba snaps and barks, that attack-dog mode she went into when Tasker touched me. I scream too, unsure whether I should go out after her or stay in the bedroom. What if he has a gun? What if she gets hurt? Why isn’t the fucking alarm going off?
Another crash rocks through the house, and the shrill scream of the alarm makes me clap my hands over my ears. Sheba’s barking sounds farther away, as if she’s chasing her prey outside. I rush to the panel to try to turn off the head-pounding siren, but I don’t know the code. In the commercials, the alarm company calls, don’t they? But does Charlie even have a landline?
Sheba comes trotting back into the room and sits down beside the bed. Pleased with herself, she wags her tail and gives me a nudge with her head. I bury my hand in her fur and drop down to my knees. “Are you hurt?”
I run my hands over her neck and chest, but she doesn’t seem to have any injuries. The alarm seems to get louder, a piercing shriek that’s quickly crossing into migraine territory. Grimacing, I tug on some yoga pants, slip on my boots without trying to find my socks, and grab my coat. I’d rather sit outside in my car than listen to this agony.
But what if the intruder is still out there, just waiting for me to leave the safety of the house?
I pull up Charlie’s number and text him.The alarm went off. Someone was here, but I’m safe. What’s the code to shut it off?
In the distance, approaching police sirens add to the cacophony rattling my head.Please hurry, Charlie.
* * *
Huddled in my coat,I sit on the front step of the house. Only one police car responded, a county sheriff’s deputy who looks younger than me. Deputy Daniels made sure I’m okay and then went to take a look inside. Sheba lays beside me, her head down on her front paws, so I’m not worried that the intruder is still around.
The blaring security siren finally stops and my phone buzzes.Alarm’s off. Airport. Be there in 20 mins. Hold on, kitten.
I droop with relief. Knowing Charlie is close makes me feel infinitely better. I push to my feet and take Sheba inside. Crouched down by the rear sliding door, the officer studies the broken glass. Blood splatters the wall and the breakfast bar.
Blood.
I sit down hard in the closest chair and run my hands over Sheba again to make sure she isn’t hurt. With her black fur, it’s hard to see any injury, but her fur isn’t wet or sticky.
“I think your dog got him pretty good.” Daniels glances up at Sheba approvingly. “He cut a small circle in the glass first and disarmed the sensor on the door so he could open it. When she attacked, I’m guessing he fell back against the glass and broke more of the panel since it’d been weakened by his cut. That set off the glass break.” He points up at a small round device in the corner of the ceiling that I hadn’t noticed. “I’ll get a crew out here to take some blood samples and lift any fingerprints that he might have left, but this guy was a pro. An everyday sort of burglar wouldn’t bother trying to bypass the alarm system.”
He slowly stands, watching me as he comes to sit at the table with me. Maybe I’m pale, though I feel okay. I’m not shaking. So why is he staring at me so carefully? Like I’m a frightened rabbit caught in a snare.