Page 19 of A Fighting Chance

Gunning the engine, I listen as she struggles against Kristoff. Zeus is going crazy in the background. Rounding the corner, I see them. Mercedes is kicking and slapping at the much bigger man as he drags her toward his car by her hair.

Jumping the curb I floor the gas. Kristoff sees me and jumps out of the way, releasing Mercedes and pushing her out of the way. Not that I would have hit her, I’m aiming for him. Gunshots go off as Kristoff fires at my truck. I keep my head down and pray that Mercedes is safe on the other side.

The gunshots stop abruptly but are replaced by horrific screams. I hear the police sirens in the distance and smile, knowing that someone has already called the cops.

“No!” Mercedes screams just outside the door of my truck before another gunshot goes off.

I’m not sure when she came around to this side but my heart stops when I hear that shot go off. I can’t lose her now. Throwing the door open I jump out, ready to fight. The scene that greets me is bloody and sad.

Kristoff is on his back. His eyes are vacant, and blood is pooling beneath him from a wound in his neck. Mercedes sits on the ground beside him, tears streaming down her face. Zeus is cradled in her lap as she tries to stop the flow of blood from where the bullet penetrated his side.

“Help me!” she screams into the air.

The local sheriff comes to a screeching halt beside us. “Jesus,” he curses taking in the scene. “What the fuck is going on here.”

Zeus whimpers in Mercedes’s arms and she sobs louder. “Just help me!” she screams again.

The sheriff turns to face me and nods. He knows me. Knows where my business and my home are, and he will find me to clear this up. I lift Zeus into my arms and place him in the back seat — Mercedes clambers in after. Without giving it a second thought or looking back at the carnage behind us. I drive to the local vet like a madman.

***

Mercedes

It takes forever to get to the vet. Zeus whimpers with every bump in the road while I sob. Crazy beast. He saved me but now Alistair is going to lose him, and my heart is being torn to shreds.

“Wait here,” Alistair says loudly as he jumps out of the truck, and within a minute a woman is following him outside pushing a metal table.

Harshly, Alistair rips the door open and helps me out. Gently he lifts Zeus out of the truck before laying him on the table. Zeus’ eyes are closed but I know he is still alive by the shallow movements of his chest. Just as quickly as she appeared the woman wheels the table away again. I can hear her shouting instructions inside the building but it’s like I have cotton wool stuffed in my ears.

“Babe,” Alistair shakes me lightly and my gaze moves from the closed door to him.

“I’m so sorry,” my voice breaks with the last word.

“Mercedes.” He crushes me against his chest. I can hear his heart beating loudly against my ear. “It will be okay.”

“It won’t.” I push him away. “I’m the reason he got hurt. If he dies I won’t ever be able to forgive myself and neither will you!” I yell, sounding slightly unhinged.

“Stop!” he roars.

I turn to glare at him. We face off both breathing hard.

“Kimberley is going to do everything in her power to help Zeus. But he did what he was supposed to do. He protected his loved ones.” Alistair is fierce in his belief that Zeus will be fine. My heart is breaking every moment that we don’t if he will be all right.

We don’t have any more opportunity to argue as the sheriff pulls into the parking spot beside us. Getting out of his car he studies us for a moment before speaking.

“Kristoff is dead. He bled out from the wound your dog inflicted.”

“He had a gun!” I interject. “He was trying to kidnap me.”

“I’m aware. I am also aware that you had a problem with someone stalking you.”

Taking a deep breath, I calm myself. I know what happens to dogs that maul or kill people. There is not a snowball’s chance in hell that I will let them euthanize Zeus if he survives this shit. I glare at the sheriff, only now realizing that he is Tommy Smith.

“What do you want, Tommy?”

“When your dog is out of the woods, I need you to come by the station.” He is calm as he speaks. “I need to get your statement.”

“And my dog?” Anger infuses every word. “Are you going to try to take him from me?”