Page 7

7

She was fascinating to watch, Rip thought as he stood just outside the barn door and watched Devyn work out with a bag, one punch and kick at a time. The idea that they called this place a barn amused him as it wasn’t like any barn he’d ever seen. No farm animals. Maybe a few pets that he could hear in the distance somewhere, and of course, Diesel rested in a nearby corner, eyes fixed on Devyn, and that damn kitten was in a picnic-like basket of soft blankets right next to his dog. It was more of a party barn if you asked him.

There was a wide-open space for entertaining, a pool table, and a wet bar setting the tone, along with rich leather furniture and the biggest screen television hanging on the wall that he’d ever seen. There were stairs leading to the living quarters upstairs that he was staying in –– Nash’s place –– but Rip had no idea this was below. He could see some sort of dark room in the distance with a large ornate wood barn-like door that might have been a theatre-type setting. There was a large open kitchen that was lit by the night sky, peering through the large roll-up glass door that led to an outdoor kitchen and seating area that looked as swanky as the inside of this barn . If this was ranch living, count him in.

At present, Rip was watching Devyn take out her frustrations in the state-of-the-art gym that sat behind a glass wall where she was leaving every last emotion behind. Petite, delicate, and beautiful as she was, what he saw unleashing in the distance was the wrath of a capable woman on a mission of vengeance. She was seething with anger, drowning in sorrow, and tortured by a pain he didn’t think she could even explain. It was obvious to him somehow, even if it wasn’t to her, which explained her smart mouth and bratty disposition at times.

Devyn appeared to be tough, or at least liked to tell everyone just how strong and grown she was, but it was clear, as he watched her whale on the bag that didn’t stand a chance, that she was trying to convince herself as much as anyone else, just how tough she was. He’d give her credit, though. She was damn near convincing, until the tantrums, or until… the tears. She was unhinged, losing it, and coming completely unwound as she fought against whatever demon she was facing at the moment. Based on what he’d gathered in the handful of days he’d been on the ranch, he was sure there were plenty.

Diesel lifted his head slowly and scanned the room until his eyes fixed on Rip. He knew he was there, even if he couldn’t quite see him in the shadows. Instead of alerting Devyn or even come running, his badass highly trained soldier of a dog moved closer to the fucking kitten and rested his head in the basket, never losing his sights on Rip.

“Traitor,” Rip said under his breath before heading inside.

The music she was playing grew louder as he drew closer. He didn’t take her for a metalhead, but it paired well with the assault she was serving the punching bag. Rip wasn’t intentionally being discreet with his approach, but Devyn was so in the zone that she didn’t see or hear him coming.

“Dev?” he said, as not to startle her.

When she didn’t even acknowledge him, he shouted, “Devyn.”

Still nothing.

After a hard shin kick to the bag, she’d turned just so and saw her reflection in the long wall of mirrors and… saw his as well. Startled and with little time to react, much less register the image Devyn saw standing directly behind her. In a sudden motion, she quickly executed a roundhouse kick, trying to fight off her assailant, but she was met with much resistance. She may not have seen or realized it was Rip, but he knew full well it was her and… what to expect. A fight.

Rip grabbed her leg before it could make contact and steadied her so as not to cause her injury or to fall. That didn’t stop her in the least. Devyn continued to fight, and Rip let her. Every swing she took was met with an open palm or a duck of his head. She wasn’t angry, she was grieving, and he could see it. Grieving a mother she thought she knew. Grieving the family life she thought they had. Grieving the safety she once felt in this place. Grieving… a life that was no longer hers. Everything was different now and always would be despite the outcome of all that was falling down around her.

It was clear, to even Rip, that Devyn liked to be in control, given her actions and reactions to almost everything. She did well and felt her most confident when in control. She was feeling anything but that, and it was plain as day. Devyn was spiraling, and he was going to let her, even if it meant being on the opposite end of her fury.

Diesel barked, catching Rip by surprise and earning his attention, which was a rookie move if he ever made one. In a split-second, Rip turned his attention to his dog and surroundings to make sure it wasn’t a warning of danger; Devyn was able to land a punch right to his eye, causing him to lose his balance and let go of her leg. When Devyn began to fall backward, she’d reached for Rip’s shirt with a tight fist and brought him down with her. She hit the ground hard on her back. Rip caught himself, managing not to crush her, and hovered just inches above her.

Their breath caught, each locked in the other’s stare. The close proximity and compromising position they were in hadn’t even registered as they remained locked at that moment. Still. Unphased by all that was around them. At that moment, it was just the two of them, surrounded by both confusion and certainty that this was precisely where they were supposed to be, with each other. She seemed to feel safe, and he felt protective. Until that brief moment faded, and reality came back into view, settling around them.

“Rip.” She said with surprise, gently touching his red and puffy eye. “Oh my gosh, I didn’t realize it was you. I…”

“It’s okay.” He began.

“No, it wasn’t. I-I don’t know what got into me.” Her voice quaked as her eyes filled with emotion.

“You were focused, and I startled you. It just took you a minute to realize it was me. That’s all.” Rip justified her actions because he understood the kind of focus and anger she was grappling with.

“I was, but to not realize it was you… you were standing right in front of me.” Her lip quivered, and she quickly pulled out from beneath him and leaned against the wall. “What is happening to me?”

“Really. It isn’t a big deal, not the first time I took a fist to the eye, but definitely the first by a lawyer –– it’s usually really bad men, but there’s a first for everything, right?” He teased with a light tone.

“It’s not funny, Rip. I don’t understand. I’m not like this.” She muttered with frustration.

“You were in the zone.”

“Stop, will you? Stop defending my actions. It’s not okay. I hit you.” She pleaded. “I don’t even recognize who I am anymore.”

“I know you’re used to shooting me, but honestly, this isn’t that serious.” Rip continued, ignoring her plea to be serious as she had a deep reflecting moment.

“That was different. I meant to shoot you. I didn’t mean to hit you. I was just caught up in some crazy moment.” She admitted. “It’s like I saw you but didn’t at the same time. The only thing that registered was someone was behind me, and they shouldn’t have been.”

“I believe that’s fight or flight, and you chose fight. It’s a reliable instinct, and yours clearly works.” He continued to tease.

“Rip…”

“Devyn, you went from a simple life as a law student, safe with all the freedom in the world, to being shot at, nearly run over, and if you count your first encounter with me… being chased by a strange man in the woods.”

“And his dog.” She said and winked at Diesel.

“Right. And his insanely threatening and lethal beast.” Rip turned to Diesel, who was still resting his head in the basket with the kitten. “Who’s suddenly into cats and has motherly instincts.”

“He does love her.”

“What he wouldn’t give to chase a squirrel or flock of just about any bird, but cats… who knew.”

Devyn smiled at Diesel, “I think he knows she’s small –– just a baby. She needs to be protected.”

“Kind of like how he latched onto you?” Rip asked.

“I don’t need to be protected.” She argued.

“Are you sure about that?” he pointed to his bruising eye, “It’s okay not to have it all figured out and… to be afraid. This is all foreign to you. You’ve probably had more trauma in the past week than your entire life, am I right?”

She hesitated to answer at first, then gave in, “Maybe.”

“Then stop fighting it. Stop trying to prove to your brothers and sister that you’re all grown and can take care of yourself. Stop overcompensating because it’s only putting you in more danger. Let them protect you. It’s okay to be scared and let them look out for you. For me to look out for you… before you get yourself or someone else hurt.”

“You think I’m being defiant.” She stated, daring him to challenge her.

“I think you’re being something.”

“You don’t even know me, Rip.” She guffawed.

“I know enough to know you’re smarter than this. I see how you look at all of them and how you want them to look at you.”

Devyn tossed her hands in the air in exasperation, “Oh my God. Are you a damn therapist now? What is this, Rip?”

“It’s honesty. From a stranger who has nothing to lose or gain here.”

“Do you feel better?” she said sarcastically, taking to her feet, “You know, about yourself after that little pep talk? Coy send you out here, or did Dillon?”

“Neither.” He said, following suit. “Just offering a friendly observation and maybe a little advice, but I see you don’t want to hear it.”

Diesel suddenly stood tall and was on full alert. A subtle growl that was barely a grumble escaped him like a warning, which Rip quickly interpreted as danger.

“Quick, get behind me,” Rip said, tucking Devyn behind him and pulling his weapon as he backed them into a corner between large pieces of gym equipment. “Don’t move.”

“Rip, it’s probably…”

He didn’t even turn to look at her; he simply kept his stare locked in the direction Diesel’s attention was directed.

“Diesel, watch’em,” Rip commanded, and the dog slowly but methodically moved toward the door and began to bark like some kind of tactical maneuver was underway.

“Watch what?” Devyn whispered. “Rip, what’s going on?”

“He sees someone or something. Stay behind me while he flushes them out.” Rip said.

“Oh no. Someone’s out there? What about the agents and…”

“You’re safe,” Rip reassured, though his tone was flat and lacked emotion. He was as focused as the dog breaching the door and going out of view. “Let him work.”

Diesel’s bark grew farther and farther away, then suddenly became aggressive and quickly became louder again.

“He found someone, and he’s giving chase. Stay down. Here he comes.” Rip warned as he felt Devyn’s tiny frame tremble behind him.

“Oh shit.” She whispered. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“You’re safe. No matter what happens, you’re safe, Devyn.”

She began to gasp, “I-I can’t…”

With one hand extended in front of him, weapon in his grip, he shifted his body, reached behind himself with his free arm, and cradled Devyn against his body. He attempted to comfort her as best he could, given the situation, while still shielding her from whatever danger was threatening them. Despite the rapid pace of the scene unfolding before them, Rip's movements seemed to unfold in slow motion, reminiscent of a scene from a movie. “You’re okay, darlin’ stay put. You’re always safe with me.”

Loud, heavy footsteps in quick succession grew louder. Someone was running — running from Diesel and right for them. A shadowy figure came into view, and Rip prepared for the confrontation. He was hyper-focused on his target, ready to make a split-second decision to pull the trigger and ask questions later or face off with whatever threat was coming right for them.

“Don’t move,” he yelled just as the figure entered the doorway. “Don’t fucking move.”

The person stopped and threw their hands up, but Rip couldn’t determine who it was simply by their silhouette in the doorway. Diesel’s behavior struck him as odd when he began to dance around the character, and his bark shifted from menacing to almost playful. Diesel was taunting them, but why? Rip slowly approached, keeping Devyn right behind him like he was a human shield, hands still linked, protecting her.

“Will you call off your damn dog, or do you think this is funny? He keeps nipping at my ass.”

Rip relaxed, and he could feel the tension leave Devyn’s grip as well, and she emerged from behind him.

“You probably deserve it, Nash.” She teased. “What are you doing sneaking around out here anyway?”

“One, he’s frightening .” Nash pointed to Diesel, “Two, I’m not buying the whole sweet, gentle with-the-kitten bullshit. He wants to kill something, and I’m pretty sure he’s hoping it’s me.”

“He doesn’t want to kill you. He was just doing his job. He takes it pretty seriously.” Rip said while Diesel continued to bark and run circles around Nash. “Besides, when he’s a good boy and does his job, he gets his favorite toy to play with for a bit. It’s the only time he gets it.”

“How about you tell your good boy I’m not a bad guy and to… sit or something. Huh?” Nash nervously chuckled.

“Diesel, leave it,” Rip commanded. Diesel immediately stopped and watched Rip for his next command. “Sit.”

Diesel complied.

“You can pet him now,” Rip informed.

“I think I’ll pass and stick to the kitten,” Nash said, headed toward the basket it was sleeping in, but Diesel beat him to it and sat on guard, causing Nash to stop in his tracks. “Or, maybe I won’t. That’s clearly… his kitten.”

“If you pet him and make friends, he won’t feel like he needs to protect anyone or anything from you,” Rip said.

“Pretty sure he’s going to bite me no matter what you say, Rip.”

“Just do it, Nash,” Devyn said with an eye roll. She walked over and knelt beside the dog, letting him lick her face while she scratched his ears. Devyn grabbed his hand and placed it on the dog’s head. “Now pet him. Diesel’s a good boy, aren’t you? Such a handsome guy, sweet as can be.”

“Why are you talking to him in that voice? I’m not using a special voice.” Nash said and reluctantly pet the dog.

“Aww, Uncle Nash is a grump, isn’t he? Diesel likes this voice. See, he likes you. He was just working.”

“I think he’s tolerating me, but only because you’re right there, and he seems to love you for some reason.”

“He really has taken to her.” Rip said, “Never done that before. He’s trained to be a one-person dog and only protect, but here he is… failing all those years and dollars invested in training for a pretty girl.”

“Did you hear that, Diesel?” She said, still in her silly puppy talk voice, “He called me pretty. Sounds like you’re mine now, too.”

Nash finally pulled his hand away, and Diesel stared him down, “Yeah, I’m still a little afraid of him. That didn’t help. What is he, anyway? Yellow lab… on steroids? Part donkey, maybe?”

“Did you just call him a yellow lab?” Rip asked, offended.

“Yeah, I mean…” Nash looked between Rip and Diesel and shrunk under both of their stares, taking several steps backward. “I mean, no? He doesn’t look like one... at all. He looks like a big… tough…”

“German shepherd.” Rip finished as Nash was at a loss for words.

“Yeah, I was going to say…” Nash gave Diesel an odd look, “Really? You sure? He’s so blonde and golden.”

“Little less than half husky too.” Rip went on.

“Okay, yeah, I guess I can sort of… Wait, huskies are grey, aren’t they?” Nash questioned.

“Not entirely. He’s also a little Staffordshire… hence the steroid comment.” Rip sneered.

“Staffordshire. Oh wow. That’s why he’s a little intimidating.” Nash framed his own face to finish his thought while moving further away from the dog, “That’s where all this comes from. Big. Beefy. Head… and stuff. And scary. So, why is he still staring at me like that?”

“Because you called him a lab.” Rip snorted.

Nash laughed, “Right, because he knows what that… You think he understands?”

“You also said donkey.” Devyn giggled.

“Oh, dude, Diesel, I only meant like your size. You’re a big guy, and yeah,” Nash continued to stumble over his words with his halfhearted explanation, or perhaps attempt at an apology, to Diesel. “I didn’t mean you were a jackass or anything. Just a big, strong guy… who clearly hates my guts. Okay then.”

“He’s an elite operative, Nash, and knows it. Dogs, in general, sense stress and other human emotions, and he’s trained to respond to those things in a specific way and that they mean something.”

“Really? So, what’s he sensing from me right now?”

“Probably anxiety, and that’s why he’s staring at you like that. He’s trying to get you to crack under pressure to see what you do next and evaluate your threat level.”

“Oh shit. He can tell all that and thinks I’m a threat? How do I fix that? I’ve always been a dog person, never met one I didn’t like or didn’t like me, so this is all…” Nash waved his hand over Diesel, indicating that he was referring to the entire experience going down with … the dog. “This is weird. And, I’m a little frightened, and maybe using that term for the first time in my life. Because he looks like he still wants to kill me.”

“He won’t kill you, Nash. He’s trained to take a bullet and lay down his life for you. He just probably thinks you’re…”

“Weird.” Devyn deadpanned as she stood and headed for the door, “Like the rest of us. Let’s go, Diesel. Time to feed your baby.”

Diesel grabbed the basket holding the kitten, carried it in his mouth by the handle, and trotted along on Devyn's heels.

“Hey, it’s not his baby,” Rip warned. “You’re ruining him. He isn’t a damn night nurse for your cat, he’s a soldier.”

“Uh huh,” Devyn said and waved over her shoulder. “Whatever you say.”

“I’m going to have to talk to Coy and Dillon about this. Our company spent a lot of money on him and his training, and you’re…”

“His new best friend, I know.” Devyn laughed. “He’s still a soldier, and he also has his own kitten.”

Nash stepped aside when Devyn passed to make room for Diesel and his kitten in a basket. Diesel stopped in front of him, lifted his leg, and relieved himself on Nash’s leg.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Nash hollered and jumped back, “You’re dog just pissed all over me.”

Rip shrugged and followed Devyn and the dog, “You really shouldn’t have called him a lab.”