And Emily watched in horror as the woman turned the gun on Princeton.
“No!” she shouted, rushing to the locked door, and furiously tugging on it.
Fear gripped her tightly as the lock held, forcing her to watch helplessly as Holden dove for Princeton while the gun went off.
Everything stood still, except for the heart ripping from Emily’s chest.
Holden…oh, God, no.
He lay motionless on the floor next to Colby, who was being cuffed and taken from the room.
Emily hadn’t even noticed the takedown, or the arrival of Mac, Dex, Hunter, and Sinjin. Her attention was on her dog and Holden and the fact Colby had shot at them.
And now there was blood.
She sucked in a breath and rattled the door. “Holden!” she cried.
Sinjin appeared with a large pair of bolt cutters in his hand and deftly removed the lock and opened her door.
Emily blew past the guy with a quick thanks and rushed to Holden, who rose to his feet with Princeton in his arms.
“Oh, God,” she choked out. “Are you two all right?”
He nodded. “Yes. We’re fine.”
“But you’re bleeding.” She touched his arm where blood trickled from a wound on his bicep. Her chest squeezed so tightly, she could barely breathe.
“Just a scratch,” he said, handing Princeton off to Sinjin. When she went to protest, he set a hand on her shoulder. “He’s still asleep but is starting to stir. It’s better if he wakes up in his crate in the house.”
She swallowed before kissing the sleeping dog’s head and nodded for Sinjin to take the poor thing back into the house. “Queenie! Is she okay? Colby didn’t…”
“She’s fine,” Holden reassured. “Still in her crate.”
Thank God.
She exhaled and the room started to spin. Emily stumbled and Holden immediately pulled her close. A warm, familiar strength surrounded her, and it hit her how she thought she’d never feel that again. “You took a bullet for my dog,” she choked out, burrowing her face against his chest.
Emily knew they had some things to iron out, and as the night progressed and they’d both talked to Gabe and were cleared by an EMT—as well as Isla, who’d showed up with a frantic Lyndsey an hour later—she kept circling back to one fact.
Holden had taken a bullet for her dog.
“Ouch,” she muttered, as she sat in her house on her couch almost an hour later.
Isla sat on one side of her, holding a bag of ice on Emily’s head, Lyndsey sat on the other side, while Queenie and the now fully awake Princeton sat by her feet.
Lyndsey had examined both dogs and pronounced them well rested and out of danger from the sedative Colby had apparently laced in some treats she’d fed them.
A shudder rippled through her as she realized how close they’d come to dying. But they were okay now. She was okay.
She was surrounded by her pack, her people, but a very important someone was missing. Not a pack leader…no, her equal. Holden.
Last she knew, he was outside with Gabe, filling out more papers or something.
“You okay?” Lyndsey asked.
“Yeah.” Isla shifted forward to meet her gaze. “Can we get you anything?”
She shook her head and promptly winced. “I’m good.”
