A Perfect Storm
Page 46

He chewed his upper lip, then laughed without humor. “Until I got closer, I hadn’t realized what they were doing on the porch. I didn’t know they had a…”
Arizona watched him swallow. She reached out and touched his knee.
He covered her hand with his own. “They were tormenting a dog.”
“Tormenting?”
“Being really cruel. The poor dog was tied to a high post so that its front paws…”
Arizona covered her mouth, imagining.
“They were strangling the poor thing for sport.”
“Bastards!”
He nodded agreement. “I saw that animal, saw what they were doing, and I totally lost it.” He wrapped her fingers in his own, gave her a squeeze, and then released her. “Instead of biding my time and waiting for the right moment to grab Glassman, I fired a few shots so they’d take cover in the house, then I cut the dog’s rope.”
Thank God he carried a sharp knife. “You let them all get away?”
His laugh was harsh. “No. As soon as the dog was free, I busted into the house and beat the shit out of them.”
“No kidding? I would have loved to see that.”
Pausing, he gave her a funny look, laughed again and shook his head. “It was stupid. If one of them had been armed, I might not be here now.”
“Not a one of them had a gun?”
“Glassman did, but he ran. I guess the other two were supposed to slow me down. And they did. I held my own, but somewhere along the way I took a kick to the face, and it broke my nose.”
Enthralled, Arizona watched him with wide eyes and heightened anticipation. “Knocked you out?”
“Just made me bloody, actually, and more furious.” As if he were enraged all over again, his left hand clenched. “I leveled them both, breaking a few bones and crippling a knee. But before you start looking impressed, they were punks, nothing more. You could have taken them.”
Affronted by the demeaning way he said that, she scowled. “Gee, thanks.”
Sidestepping her pique, he continued. “I cuffed them and called the cops. I was going to cut out after Willy, but as soon as I left the house, I saw the dog was still there. He’d left the porch and was cowering in the bushes, snarling and growling at me and…” He shook his head and his voice lowered. “I couldn’t leave him.”
Her heart turned over. Could Spencer be more appealing? She didn’t think so.
“Turns out they had several outstanding warrants. Last I heard, they were still rotting in prison—which is where they both belong.”
“Nice.” Knowing better than most how badly reality could suck, she hated to ask, but she had to know. “What happened to the dog?”
“Animal control wanted to take him. He was obviously hurt, a little wild and scared.” Spencer looked at her. “He didn’t want to trust anyone.”
Oh, no. No, no, no. He drew comparisons between her and the dog. Similarities existed, so she couldn’t blame him, but she didn’t want him to go there.
“He was a German shepherd mix, smart and, except for the signs of neglect, really beautiful.” Holding her gaze, Spencer surprised her by saying softly, “I took him with me.”
While Arizona appreciated his kindness and was grateful that he hadn’t abandoned the dog, she didn’t want him to see her the same way. Abused, yes. Angry, you betcha. Distrustful? Of course.
But she wasn’t helpless as the animal had been—because she refused to be. She’d taken charge of her life, and she wanted Spencer to see her as a capable person.
She wanted him to see her as an equal.
It took a couple of slow, deep breaths before she could find her voice. “You’re a regular rescuer of strays, aren’t you?” Hurt made her sound sharper than she meant to.
As if her sarcasm saddened him, Spencer focused on the woods beyond, at nothing in particular. “It took a while, but he finally healed. He started playing again, relaxing. He let down his guard.”
“Where is he now?”
“A good friend of mine is a vet. He helped me work with Trooper. He kept him when I was away, and he monitored his recovery.”
“Trooper?”
“That’s what I named him.” He shrugged. “Anyway, my friend has kids and a big fenced yard, lots of company. Trooper is happy there.”
“You visit him?”
“Sometimes.”
The similarities were annoying. Just like poor Trooper, Spence wanted to rehabilitate her, “repair” her and then pawn her off on someone else.
Over her dead body.
After slurping down the rest of her milk shake, she decided it was time to change the subject. “So you like animals?” That sounded innocuous enough.
“Sure.” He finished off his drink, too. “But I’m not home enough to have one of my own. It wouldn’t be fair.”
“Same here.” She’d love to actually have a home—and everything that went with it. Pets, grass to cut, windows to wash, photos to hang on the walls…
But fate had dealt her a different hand, so that’d have to be in another lifetime.
Agitated by the thought, she began stuffing the empty wrappers and paper cups back into the bag.
Spencer helped.
“I love being around Dare’s dogs,” she said, just to fill the sudden silence. “Tai and Sargie are total sweeties. And Priss’s big cat, Liger, is such a lover-boy.”