A woman nearby shouted, “I’m calling the police!”
With her world still spinning, Sassy stared in disbelief as two big men faced off beside her. Both were menacing, wearing almost matching, dingywinter coats, black wool caps, and tattered boots. Which one had grabbed her? Could the other really be defending her? Or was he just there to fight? As soon as she could breathe, she told herself she’d get up and run.
The larger of the two had a long, thick beard, and he hunched like a grizzly, with his legs bowed. His arms dangled at his sides, and he barely flinched when the other man drove his fist into his stomach. The only sign that he’d felt anything was the emergence of a loose-jawed smile within his beard and a faint sound she thought might be a laugh. He lurched forward, and the smaller man—who still had to be over six feet tall—punched the grizzly’s face so hard Sassy heard a snap. The man stumbled back, rubbing his jawline with a big paw and frowning with bewilderment.
“Done?” the other man barked, but the grizzly shoved him to the ground then dropped on top of him. Sassy caught a flash of metal, then she glimpsed the tip of a blade aimed at the smaller man’s throat. Both men’s hands gripped its handle, and the blade shook from the tension between them. Suddenly, the man on the bottom snarled, his teeth a slit of white in his grimy face, and he thrust all four of their hands straight up so their arms were extended over his head. That threw the grizzly off balance, and the man on the bottom took advantage. He rolled on top and took control, resting the tip of the blade against the man’s wide, hairy neck.
“Dung lai!” he repeated. When the grizzly didn’t stop struggling, he tried again. “Stop moving, or I’ll drive this through your miserable throat.”
The man on the ground went limp, and the other one turned his face toward Sassy. There it was, that awful scarring that had made her want to run. Up close, she realized he was wearing an eye patch as well. His fingers were dark, almost burgundy, sticking out of fingerless gloves.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Thank you,” she squeezed out. “I think you just saved my life.”
He scowled down at her attacker. “Who are you?”
The man’s mouth hung open slackly while he considered the eye-patch man. “John. I’m John.”
“What were you doing?”
“Walking. Taking kitty for a walk.”
Lifting his lip with disgust, the eye-patch man got to his feet. When the big man began to move, he placed his boot firmly on his throat.
“Don’t,” he said calmly.
The big man did not budge until the sound of a siren split the air. Even then, no one moved until a policeman jumped out of the car and pointed his gun directly at the smaller man.
“The other one,” Sassy told him, pointing. “This guy saved me from that one.”
The muzzle of the gun shifted to the man on the ground.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” Sassy said as the eye-patch man helped her up.
“No need. You okay?”
“Just scared, I guess. He came out of nowhere.”
He eyed the captive as handcuffs clasped around the thick wrists. “I think he’sdien cai dao.”
“Um, what?”
“Sorry.” He dropped his hands into his coat pockets. “Vietnamese for ‘crazy in the head.’?”
“You speak—” She stared at him, unexpectedly aware. The only reason someone like him would know Vietnamese was if he had been there. That would explain—would Joey come back with a scar like that?
“Heart!” John shouted. “Heart! Heart!”
“What’s the matter with you?” the policeman demanded. He shot a bemused look at the other two, but John kept yelling.
“Heart! Heart! Doctor! Heart! Doctor!”
“You in pain, mister? You ain’t having a heart attack or nothing, are you?”
“Heart! Doctor! Heart!”
The man with the eye patch perked up then strode over to John. “Dr. Hart?”
