“Dude, look, let me just take her home. I’m sorry that we had to bother you like this. It’s really just a simple misunderstanding. You know how women can be, she’s just being a tad dramatic.”
“The dog doesn’t seem to like you,” Beckett points out.
“It never has.”
The way this man lies so smoothly is scary, like he’s been planning this and has thought through every single scenario that one would have to play out in their mind.
“Beckett, please make him leave,” I whisper, loud enough for only him to hear.
“Look, she seems a little bit shaken up, maybe it could do you two some good to spend a few hours apart to cool off. I’ll take her back to the station with me, and when she’s ready to leave, she can leave. I’ll take your contact info, and I can call you if sheneeds a ride,” Beckett offers. I peek out from behind his back, and the man looks like he’s getting upset again.
“We don’t want any trouble. Really, it’s ok, I’ll just take her home, and we can sort it out ourselves. There’s no need for her to go with you.”
“She’s clearly upset, so unless she wants to go with you, she’s going to come with me,” Beckett says. I can tell that he’s very quickly losing his patience.
“She’s just being dramatic.”
“Regardless of dramatics, if she doesn’t want to go with you, I’m not going to make her, so you can either A, give me your contact info and let me contact you later, then you can come pick her up from the station. Or B, you can just walk away, and I’ll make sure she makes it home safely whenever she’s ready.”
“Why are you being such a dick?” the man snaps, and I flinch, burying my face back into Beckett’s back.
“Sir, I’m going to ask you to leave,” Beckett says, no longer playing the nice guy.
“Whatever, dude,” the guy says, turning and walking away. It’s not until he disappears around the corner that Beckett turns to me and wraps his arms around me.
I collapse into him, my body just giving out as I’m finally safe.
“Come on, baby, let’s get you to the station,” he whispers. I nod, letting him guide me.
He takes Mocha’s leash while I throw away my matcha, my stomach feeling unsettled by it. I lean against Beckett as I walk, my brain running through the last hour over and over again. Replaying what happened, my thoughts shut down, my brain a mess. I completely zone out. It’s not until I’m in Beckett’s office and he’s laying me down on the little couch in the corner that I snap out of whatever daze I’m in.
“It’s ok, baby, just breathe,” he whispers, sitting down on the edge of the couch, a mug of cocoa in one hand. The other brushes against my cheek, grounding me to the right now.
Nothing bad happened, but that doesn’t mean that it couldn’t have. Who knows what could have happened if he’d found me in the dark, if it had happened on my way into town or on my way back home, if I had taken a back road or something else.
“Hey, Sloane,” Beckett says, gently stroking my face with his thumbs. He sets the mug down on the table and takes my face with both hands instead of just one.
“He…he…” I can’t even seem to find any words.
“I know, baby, but he didn’t. You’re safe, you’re here with Mocha and me,” he says, using his thumbs to wipe away my tears.
“But if you weren’t…” I whisper, Mocha coming over and sitting next to the couch, resting his chin right next to my face. “You’re such a good boy,” I whisper, kissing his nose.
Mocha lets out a soft whimper and licks my face. I let out a sigh as I lie with my two protectors.
“He was willing to protect me; he put himself in the way,” I whisper, looking up at Beckett, then to my sweet boy.
“Good boy, Mocha,” Beckett says, one of his hands leaving my face as he lowers himself to the floor to sit next to our puppy and pets his fur affectionately before kissing the top of his head.
Mocha seems to soak up the affection and melts.
“I’m scared, Beck,” I whisper.
“I know, baby, but we don’t have to talk about it until you are ready. Take your time. There’s no rush,” he says, taking my hand and kissing the knuckles, his other hand still petting Mocha.
I nod my head and close my eyes for a few moments, taking some deep breathes and trying to calm myself down. While I am calmer because I know I am safe, the feeling that something bad could have happened doesn’t want to go away.
“Check social media, he was filming like he was going to post it, or maybe he was live,” I whisper, and when I open my eyes, Beckett’s just staring at me.
