Chapter 2

When Roy bent back slightly to take the pressure off his throat, he felt the cold metal of the pistol barrel resting against his neck. The man steadied his weapon on Roy’s shoulder.

Oh fuck! What do I do now?Roy had served two enlistments in the U.S. Navy, but he’d been a medic, not a fighting man. The intruder was several inches taller, and as he pressed close behind him, Roy could feel the man had a wiry toughness that hinted at considerable strength. Somebody’s going to get hurt here, and it’s a good chance it may be me.

The dog crouched, tail tip twitching with suppressed energy, his fight drive building to an explosive level. The cop hissed another quick command. The dog leaped. Roy felt the jolt an instant before the fiery heat as gunpowder exploded short inches from his ear. The sound deafened him for a moment. He saw tan fur scatter and scarlet drops spray, but the dog kept coming.

Another shot. This time the policeman stumbled, halted. Within an instant, a dark patch bloomed on the left leg of his navy blue trousers. He steadied himself and drew his gun. At that moment, the dog hit the apex of a running leap. The animal grabbed the man’s gun arm, teeth crunching in a steel-trap snap on the bare, brown forearm. The impact spun both the gunman and Roy around. The pistol went flying as the man screamed. He released Roy an instant later.

Roy staggered a couple of steps, sinking onto the nearest barstool. Sweet Jesus. It’s a wonder I didn’t piss my pants.

Limping, the cop advanced. At another command, the dog released the strange man’s arm, now bleeding profusely. He was clutching at the torn flesh, cursing and whimpering. The policeman fumbled for his handcuffs. He snapped them on the man’s unbitten arm first. Then he hesitated, as if not quite sure what to do next. With a muffled whine, the dog sank to the floor, all fight gone.

When he looked down in surprise at the sound, Roy saw gouts of blood, not just from the bitten man but more, draining from the long furrow along the dog’s left side. Whoa, this pooch just saved my ass and prob’ly the cop’s too. I need to help him.

If there was one thing Roy knew, it was treating gunshot wounds. Been there and done that.He reached behind the bar and came back with a handful of clean towels. Kneeling on the floor, he pressed two of them in a wad into the dog’s wound to staunch the blood. He wasn’t sure how deep or serious it was, but it was spurting blood. Slowing that flow was the most urgent need. After a moment, he tied three more towels together and bound them around the dog’s body to hold the makeshift compress in place, easing the improvised tie under the animal’s heaving ribs as gently as he could. To his surprise, the dog tolerated his attention, stayed quiet. Roy could almost believe the beast somehow understood it had saved the day and was now going to be saved in turn.

By then, the policeman had handcuffed the suspect to the rail along the edge of the bar, leaving his bleeding arm free. After that, the officer sat down on a nearby stool with a thump. With an expression of disbelief, he stared down at the hole in his dark trousers, at the patch getter bigger and darker still, where blood welled to stain the fabric. Roy could see the shock in the man’s face then, a paleness and tension that dimmed his masculine beauty.

“Hey, you’re shot too.” Roy grabbed some more towels and made a second hasty compress. The wound was high in the other man’s thigh, to the inside. The bullet appeared to have missed the bone, but must have clipped at least one artery because the blood was coming in spurts. Roy jammed the wad of towels against the cop’s leg, bearing down hard.

The officer drew a sharp breath that hissed between his clenched teeth.

“I know, it hurts like hell, but I need to slow the blood. Have you got backup coming?”

The officer nodded. “I called before we came in. They should be here any minute. How’s Samson?”

“Samson?”

“My dog. I saw he was hit. Is it bad?”

Roy shrugged. “I’m not sure. I think it just sliced along his side, but it was bleeding too much to see for sure. That’s why I’ve got him bandaged. That should hold until we can get him to a vet. Does the department have one they use?”

“Yeah, I take him to the St. Francis Animal Clinic. They have a vet on duty 24/7.”

Roy tossed one bundle of bloody towels aside and made a fresh compress. The man was weaving in his seat, starting to weaken from loss of blood. Tourniquet—I hate to do that, but better than bleeding to death.He took his web belt off and bound it around the cop’s thigh, almost into the crotch. He had to get that blood flow cut off fast.