Chapter 2
The cold morning air swept through the crack in my car window as I drove toward Boston Common. It was early, but the city was already buzzing with Saturday morning traffic.
I wore a long-sleeved shirt dress. It was supposed to hit the high sixties later. Typical New England spring. Chilly now, warmish later. If we were lucky.
My mind drifted as I turned down Tremont. I thought back to my session with Cynthia yesterday. The screaming. The blood. That moment when my eyes had snapped open in panic.
Suddenly, the car in front of me slammed to a stop.
Instinct kicked in. My foot hit the brakes hard, and I jolted forward. So did the car behind me, close enough to make my heart leap.
“What the hell?”
I leaned forward, peering out the windshield. Two vehicles ahead, something moved on the road, then darted between cars. Massive shapes.
Dogs!
Two enormous mastiffs, panicked and aimless, ran loose in the middle of the street.
Easily over two hundred pounds each, they darted between stopped cars and stunned pedestrians on the sidewalk.
The entire street froze in both directions.
Nobody moved. People just watched as the two beasts weaved between bumpers, panting, wild-eyed, and afraid.
They were trapped. Every direction was a dead end, blocked by cars, a wall of people, even a cyclist awkwardly trying to backpedal.
And no one helped.
Because who the hell wanted to get near two dogs the size of lions?
Then the honking started. Loud, angry, relentless. A car lurched forward, trying to scare them off the road. One of the mastiffs jolted in panic, and the bumper missed it by barely an inch.
That was it.
I threw my car into park and flung the door open. My boots slapped the pavement as I sprinted toward them. I slowed as I got closer, hands up, voice soft.
“Hey there, sweet boys. It’s okay.”
The dogs pulled back. They didn’t trust me. Why would they? They were terrified. I was scared too. I’d never been so close to dogs this massive.
One of them froze, his chest heaving, his mouth wide as he panted in exhausted panic. That was my chance.
I crouched slightly and stepped in.
“Easy,” I said softly, my pulse hammering in my throat.
Then, slowly, even stupidly, maybe, I reached for his collar. He could’ve ripped me apart. One bite. That was all it would’ve taken.
But he didn’t.
When my fingers wrapped around the thick leather, he didn’t even flinch. The dog just stood there, panting under my touch. I pulled gently, easing him toward the sidewalk.
The second dog hesitated, then followed.
The crowd parted as I stepped onto the curb, both mastiffs in tow. People watched in stunned silence.
An older woman near the curb placed a hand on my shoulder.
“Well done,” she said. “Thank you for saving them.”
The honking picked up again behind me. Traffic had resumed—except for my car, still parked in the middle of it all.
“Shit,” I muttered as a truck skidded to a stop next to me. Tires squealed. A man leaped out, tall and broad-shouldered.
“Oh my God! Thank you,” he said.
Tears filled his eyes as he dropped to his knees and threw his arms around the dogs’ massive shoulders. They licked his face like they’d found their way home.
“I stopped to get a pack of cigarettes at the gas station down the street,” the man said breathlessly. “And forgot the window was all the way down.”
He sounded like he was begging for forgiveness—from the dogs, from the crowd, from the universe, and from me. The relief on his face looked like resurrection. It was like he’d already pictured them dead, and now here they were. Alive. Safe.
“No worries,” I called over my shoulder as I jogged back across the road, dodging a few impatient honks to reach my car.
The moment I gripped the steering wheel, I realized my hands were shaking.
God. That was wild.