Pawliday Love

Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

JULIET

T he moment Mason turned his attention on the dog, it was like he became a different person. He ducked his head and broad shoulders, making himself smaller as he eased forward. A steady stream of soft reassurances spilled from his mouth.

“Hey there. It’s okay. I know you must be scared, but we’re going to help you. We just want to make sure you’re safe. You’re pretty thin–I bet you’ve been on your own for a while. I think I’ve got some beef jerky in my car you can have, but you’ve gotta let me put this around your neck first. Need to make sure you aren’t going to run off. Can’t have my friend chasing you into traffic again. That’s not safe for either of you.”

With every word, he inched closer. The dog pressed itself back against the fence, its head swinging from side to side as it looked for an escape. I moved to one side, trying to cut off at least one path.

I wasn’t fast enough.

The moment Mason moved to try to slip the makeshift leash over the dog’s head, it bolted, shooting right past me before I could make a grab for it and heading straight toward the road. I turned to follow, even as Mason roared, “Juliet!

No!”

I didn’t stop, moving as fast as I could after the brown-and-white form tearing through the night. If I lost the dog now, we might never find it again.

It darted across the road again, heading back toward the gas station. Focused on my mission, I forgot to look both ways as I raced after it.

I’d barely stepped into the far lane when the headlights bore down on me. The bright lights left me frozen in place. Suddenly, the expression like a deer in headlights made a lot of sense. I tried to keep moving, but the car was coming too fast. It was practically on top of me. There was no way I’d make it out of the way in time.

The screech of brakes rang out as I braced for impact.

“JULIET!”

That was all the warning I got before familiar, warm, hands were on my hips. With the same maneuver Mason used to throw me into the air during the show, he shoved me out of the way. I squealed as I sailed through the air, trying to roll with the impact as I landed in the grass on the far side of the road.

A sickening thud sounded behind me. I whipped around in time to see Mason roll up the windshield of the car that nearly hit me. I sat frozen in horror as he tumbled off the side, landing on the asphalt. His arms wrapped around his head at the last second, but they did nothing to slow the impact.

A scream tore out of my throat and the driver sped off. They made no attempt to stop, and there was nothing I could do. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I sat there, too in shock to move as the taillights disappeared into the distance.

I had no idea how much time had passed when I heard Mason groan, and my head whipped around. He wasn’t asplatter on the pavement like I thought. He was lying on his side, and the dog was licking his face.

I stumbled to my feet, closing the distance between us in no time at all, crashing to my knees beside him. He had one arm wrapped around the dog, holding it to his chest.

“Mason! Are you-”

I don’t know what I was going to ask before he cut me off.

“Get the leash before she runs off,” he mumbled.

“We need to call you an ambulance!” I said, fumbling for my phone in my pockets.

He sat up at that, groaning as he shook his head.

“No way. I’m fine.” He kept petting the now overly affectionate dog as it tried to lick the blood off his face.

“You are not fine!” It came out as a scream. “You just-”

He cut me off again.

“I jumped onto the windshield. I’m fine. Are you okay?”

His eyes raked over me, as if he needed to see for himself that I was unharmed.

“Mason, I-”

“Juliet, please get the leash so we can get out of the road before another car comes.”

The very idea filled me with fresh terror. That got me moving. I dashed across the road, snagged the belt where Mason had dropped it, and hurried back. I handed it to him, and he slipped it over the dog’s head with hardly any effort at all.

“Can you stand?” I asked, still thinking we should be calling an ambulance–or at the very least the cops to report the hit-and-run, I held my hand out to help him up, but Mason gave me a look that said I was being ridiculous.

Admittedly, he probably was almost twice my weight and a head taller.

I took the makeshift leash and hovered anxiously as Mason hauled himself to his feet with a moan, afraid he might fall back down any second. I didn’t buy this tough-guy act–not when he had blood trickling down his face. When he wavered, unsteady, I ducked under his arm so he could lean on me for support as weshuffled off the road together. Unsure what else to do, I led Mason back towards the gas station in the direction of my car. I opened the passenger door, and he sank into the seat with another groan.

I had no idea what to do next. My eyes darted around, as if someone might suddenly present themselves to give me guidance, but all I saw was the dog who stared at me like I held all the answers.

“I’m fine, Jules. Stop panicking,” Mason said, cracking one eye open to stare at me. “I just need a minute.” “Mason, you got hit by a car. You need a hospital,” I insisted.

“No, I do not. But I do need my car. Can you go get it? I left it running,” he said, flashing me one of those stupidsmiles. It lost some of its usual charm with him covered in dirt and blood.

“You promise not to pass out while I’m gone?” I asked, grateful to have something to do while I tried to get my anxiety under control.

“I promise, and I won’t lose our furry friend either,” Mason said, sitting forward so he could take the leash fromme.

I frowned at the pair of them and handed the end of the belt over reluctantly before I turned my attention back to the road.

This time I checked four times before I dared to cross, jogging over to the bright red SUV. I had to move the seat up in order to reach the pedals, but I managed to get the vehicle back to the gas station in no time at all, pulling in behind my car. Relief flooded me when I saw Mason still upright, looking a little more like himself as he petted the dog.

“You were just scared, weren’t you, girl? But you’re okay now.”

“How do you know it’s a girl?” I asked, handing him his keys.

“It’s pretty easy to tell,” Mason said, shrugging.

“No collar?” I asked.

“No, but she might have a microchip with her family’s information. A vet can scan it,” Mason explained.

“Where are we going to find a vet that’s open on Christmas?” I asked with a frown as I crouched down beside the dog, stroking her soft fur.

“There’s probably an emergency vet open, but that’ll cost more money than I think we want to spend,” Masonsaid.

“So, what are we going to do with her?” I asked.

“Take her home with us.”