but her body felt like it had been hit with defibrillator paddles.
Uncomfortable awareness filled her. For her sanity, she needed to get away from him.
Pushing up from the ground, Van wandered closer to the playground equipment.
Kids, wrapped up in their summer fun, yelled and chased each other. On the sidelines, adults talked and watched, some read books or punched aimlessly at their phone screens.
Van let her gaze drift amongst the energy and activity. But then it stopped at the far side of the park. A guy she’d never seen before was just standing there, clearly out of place. Not that she necessarily knew all the neighbors. Or the people who normally frequented the park. But there was something about him that felt...off.
He was fidgety. His eyes kept darting around, never landing on anything for long. After watching him for several minutes, Van concluded he was alone at the park. At least, he certainly wasn’t with any of the kids.
Working in the ER, she’d treated enough junkies to recognize the signs.
She felt a presence beside her. Without looking, she knew it was Ty. “Are you seeing this?” she asked.
“Yep.”
She couldn’t just sit there and do nothing, especially when she had the resources to help the man. Straightening her spine, Van was about to head over to him and give him her standard speech about drug treatment options, but before she’d even taken the first step Ty’s hand wrapped around her arm.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
His head swiveled and his only response was a cold, intense stare that had shivers snaking down her spine. Gone was the boy she’d grown up with, her brother’s best friend, and in his place was the hardened soldier who’d spent years in the middle of a war zone. She could see the experience and knowledge swirling in his gaze.
It bothered her that anyone would ever have to deal with the things Ty had seen. But it bothered her more that the wounded boy she’d longed to protect had grown into a man scarred by even more tragedy.
But she didn’t need a tortured hero; she was far from helpless. Placing her hand over his, she pried Ty’s fingers from her arm. “I deal with men like that all the time, soldier. I’ll be fine.”
His lips thinned and his eyes narrowed to unhappy slits. He opened his mouth, probably to lambast her, but the words stalled.
A high-pitched scream split the park.
Ty swore under his breath.
Beside them, Kaia’s ears pricked and her body went stiff.
“Someone stop him! That guy grabbed my purse from the stroller.” An attractive blonde woman, probably in her late twenties, was pointing at the junkie hightailing it away from the park. Several women crowded around her. Most snatched up their children and held them close. But none of them were in a position to run after the man.
Van didn’t blame them. She knew from firsthand experience that addicts who were tweaking for a fix could be highly unpredictable and dangerous, and none of them had experience dealing with that kind of thing. Besides, he had a head start.
On everyone but Kaia.
She didn’t see or hear the command, but it was obvious Ty had given it.
One minute Kaia was standing at his hip, the next she was streaking across the park in hot pursuit. And even with the loss of a limb, she was easily gaining on the man.
There was an audible gasp as Kaia leapt for him, snapping her jaws around his arm and holding tight as he spun on the spot, trying to dislodge her.
The man screamed, a piercing wail that sent chills down Van’s spine.
With his free hand, he began pummeling Kaia around the head.
And that’s when she got pissed.
Without another thought, Van took off across the park. Ty was already several steps in front of her. “Make him stop,” she yelled.
Kaia wrestled the man to the ground, using the weight of her body and her sharp teeth to subdue him. Ty waded in. He must have given another command because Kaia released her hold, scooted out of the way and sat back on her haunches.
Van could see Ty had the junkie well in hand as he rolled him onto his stomach, jerked his arms up high and placed a knee on his back to immobilize him.
Van skidded to a halt beside Kaia, quickly running her hands over the dog, looking for signs of injury.
“She’s fine, Van.”
“He was beating the shit out of her, Ty,” she spit out, anger flaring in her chest.
“She’s trained for that. I promise, she’s fine.”
Kaia sat quietly—she wasn’t even breathing hard—and let Van run her hands over every inch of her body. She stared at her with those deep brown eyes, full of calm.
A calm Van apparently needed.
She realized her own heart was racing, her stomach flipping around like someone had placed her on a roller coaster. Tears burned the backs of her eyes.
She stared into Kaia’s gaze, the last piece of her brother, and realized that after only a day it would devastate her if something happened to the dog.
The thought instantly made her more antsy and unsettled.
“Someone call 911. Van, I need you over here. This guy is the one bleeding.”
Van’s body jolted into action. She scrambled over to kneel beside Ty. “This nice woman is an ER doctor. If you’ll cooperate, I’ll let you up so she can look at your wounds.”
The guy moaned and nodded.
“If you try to run or do anything stupid, Kaia is right over there, just waiting to take you down again.”
The guy whimpered. “Jeez man, I promise. Just keep that psycho dog away from me,” he wheezed.
Van leaned down to his ear, “She isn’t psycho. She’s a highly trained weapon. So I suggest you move slowly and do exactly as I say.”
* * *
TY WATCHED THE HULLABALOO. He’d clipped the leash back onto Kaia’s harness, not because he expected her to run off or react badly to the commotion, but because, after the demonstration of her skills, the spectators had been restless.
He’d watched Van administer first aid to the junkie. And while he was a captive audience, she’d also taken the opportunity to talk to him about rehab and the options that were available for assistance in getting clean.
He really hoped the guy listened, but Ty wasn’t holding his breath.
He’d spoken with the officers who’d responded to the call. In the grand scheme of things, a thwarted purse snatching wasn’t a major
