Moon
Page 71
“Yes.” She pushed against the door until her cheek dented along the edge of it. “I love you.”
Three softly spoken words caused him to sway on his feet and forced him to shift his weight to keep upright. She loved him? The door slammed and the lock clicked. He blinked a few times while it sank in. She loved him? He wasn’t sure what to do. How could she tell him that but put a door between them? A variety of jumbled emotions burst forth. He wasn’t the only one with strong feelings. Love meant everything to him but what about her?
It pissed him off that she had blurted it out without warning. And slammed the door in my face. He backed up, paused, stepped forward. His hands twitched at his sides, wanting to touch her. He needed to know how she loved him. Humans were far too vague. They loved their friends, their cars, and possessions with seeming equality.
He lunged, not giving a damn if it startled her or sent her neighbors into a state of fear. No way would he turn and walk away from her when he wasn’t sure what loving him meant to her. His boot nailed the door inches from the handle. The snap of wood was far louder than he intended but the door flung open.
He expected Joy to jump or perhaps scream when he stormed inside to go after her. The sight of a male facing him across the small room with Joy between them halted his forward movement abruptly. The human’s face was mostly hidden by a floppy hood but the gun pointed directly at her head drew his attention.
Time seemed to stand still while he struggled to make sense of the situation. The arm holding the weapon jerked in his direction. Joy cried out and spun around to face him. Her hair whipped around so fast that the long strands snagged on the metal. She kicked upward and jumped in his direction. His reflexes were slow as her body plowed into his chest. A sharp bang deafened him in the small room.
He’d been off balance when Joy’s full weight tackled him and they were propelled backward. The feel of her was enough to jar him from his shock. His back crashed into the wall next to the door, the only thing that kept them from both hitting the floor. Instinct took over as he glanced to the side before he threw her into the kitchen. He didn’t have time to see if she landed safely behind the row of cabinets that separated it from the living room. All that mattered was that she was out of the line of fire.
He howled in rage and shoved away from the door. The human had shot at them. The male stumbled backward as Moon leapt at him, tripping on the coffee table. The male’s arm flew upward when he lost his balance. Another shot hit the ceiling, sending down white debris.
Moon landed on the human’s legs. The grunt of pain from him barely registered as he tore the weapon away. The male sucked in a sharp breath screamed as if he were a female. It was cut off when Moon threw all his rage behind his fist that plowed it into the pasty face that wasn’t hidden anymore. The human’s eyes rolled back, accompanied by the crunching sound of his jaw breaking from the blow. He didn’t move but he was alive as his chest rose and fell.
Moon snarled, ready to tear out the male’s throat.
“Don’t kill him,” Joy panted. “He’s sick.”
Moon didn’t give a damn. The human was inside Joy’s home and he’d taken a shot at them. Rage surged. Why was the male there in the first place? Was he the reason she’d left Homeland? Was he someone she cared about? Loved? He snarled and his fingers curved into claws as he eyed the exposed throat.
“Moon!” Joy sounded a little closer. “Please don’t kill him. Tie him up.” She tossed something at him that landed on the floor next to where he crouched.
He glanced at the dishtowel. It was black and thick.
“Tear strips and tie him up. I’m calling 9-1-1. Please, Moon? He’s a client of mine. He’s mentally ill.” She took a ragged breath. “He suffered abuse growing up. He is obviously delusional and dangerous now.”
I’d like to snap his neck, Moon grumbled to himself, battling the urge to kill the bastard. It would upset Joy more. He bent and grabbed the towel. It was easy to bite into an edge and tear it into three long strips. Moon wasn’t gentle when he rolled the human onto his stomach. It gave him satisfaction when he realized, from the odd way it was twisted, that one of the human’s legs was broken near the knee. It would be painful when he regained consciousness and hurt like hell.
The bindings might be too tight but he had no gentleness in him. Not when it came to Joy’s patient. He was tying a second binding a little higher than the first one when something caught his attention. He glanced at his thumb to see blood. He finished the job and examined his hands to see where he’d been cut. He wasn’t cut or wounded. He lifted his thumb to his nose to learn the scent of his enemy.
The stench of the gunpowder had left his senses a little dulled but the scent he picked up now stilled him. He knew it only too well. He turned his head to stare at Joy. She was in the kitchen on the other side of the counter, leaning heavily against it. One hand was holding her upper arm and blood seeped between her fingers.
He’d hurt her. It must have happened when he’d thrown her out of the way. Her arm must have slammed into a counter and cut her skin. Regret was instant as he stared at her. She was pale as she watched him. He glanced at her hand again as he rose to his feet.
“I’m sorry.”
Tears filled her eyes, spilling down her cheeks. “My phone is in the bedroom. Call 9-1-1. My cordless is in the charging cradle in there.”
He was torn between going to her and doing what she asked.
Three softly spoken words caused him to sway on his feet and forced him to shift his weight to keep upright. She loved him? The door slammed and the lock clicked. He blinked a few times while it sank in. She loved him? He wasn’t sure what to do. How could she tell him that but put a door between them? A variety of jumbled emotions burst forth. He wasn’t the only one with strong feelings. Love meant everything to him but what about her?
It pissed him off that she had blurted it out without warning. And slammed the door in my face. He backed up, paused, stepped forward. His hands twitched at his sides, wanting to touch her. He needed to know how she loved him. Humans were far too vague. They loved their friends, their cars, and possessions with seeming equality.
He lunged, not giving a damn if it startled her or sent her neighbors into a state of fear. No way would he turn and walk away from her when he wasn’t sure what loving him meant to her. His boot nailed the door inches from the handle. The snap of wood was far louder than he intended but the door flung open.
He expected Joy to jump or perhaps scream when he stormed inside to go after her. The sight of a male facing him across the small room with Joy between them halted his forward movement abruptly. The human’s face was mostly hidden by a floppy hood but the gun pointed directly at her head drew his attention.
Time seemed to stand still while he struggled to make sense of the situation. The arm holding the weapon jerked in his direction. Joy cried out and spun around to face him. Her hair whipped around so fast that the long strands snagged on the metal. She kicked upward and jumped in his direction. His reflexes were slow as her body plowed into his chest. A sharp bang deafened him in the small room.
He’d been off balance when Joy’s full weight tackled him and they were propelled backward. The feel of her was enough to jar him from his shock. His back crashed into the wall next to the door, the only thing that kept them from both hitting the floor. Instinct took over as he glanced to the side before he threw her into the kitchen. He didn’t have time to see if she landed safely behind the row of cabinets that separated it from the living room. All that mattered was that she was out of the line of fire.
He howled in rage and shoved away from the door. The human had shot at them. The male stumbled backward as Moon leapt at him, tripping on the coffee table. The male’s arm flew upward when he lost his balance. Another shot hit the ceiling, sending down white debris.
Moon landed on the human’s legs. The grunt of pain from him barely registered as he tore the weapon away. The male sucked in a sharp breath screamed as if he were a female. It was cut off when Moon threw all his rage behind his fist that plowed it into the pasty face that wasn’t hidden anymore. The human’s eyes rolled back, accompanied by the crunching sound of his jaw breaking from the blow. He didn’t move but he was alive as his chest rose and fell.
Moon snarled, ready to tear out the male’s throat.
“Don’t kill him,” Joy panted. “He’s sick.”
Moon didn’t give a damn. The human was inside Joy’s home and he’d taken a shot at them. Rage surged. Why was the male there in the first place? Was he the reason she’d left Homeland? Was he someone she cared about? Loved? He snarled and his fingers curved into claws as he eyed the exposed throat.
“Moon!” Joy sounded a little closer. “Please don’t kill him. Tie him up.” She tossed something at him that landed on the floor next to where he crouched.
He glanced at the dishtowel. It was black and thick.
“Tear strips and tie him up. I’m calling 9-1-1. Please, Moon? He’s a client of mine. He’s mentally ill.” She took a ragged breath. “He suffered abuse growing up. He is obviously delusional and dangerous now.”
I’d like to snap his neck, Moon grumbled to himself, battling the urge to kill the bastard. It would upset Joy more. He bent and grabbed the towel. It was easy to bite into an edge and tear it into three long strips. Moon wasn’t gentle when he rolled the human onto his stomach. It gave him satisfaction when he realized, from the odd way it was twisted, that one of the human’s legs was broken near the knee. It would be painful when he regained consciousness and hurt like hell.
The bindings might be too tight but he had no gentleness in him. Not when it came to Joy’s patient. He was tying a second binding a little higher than the first one when something caught his attention. He glanced at his thumb to see blood. He finished the job and examined his hands to see where he’d been cut. He wasn’t cut or wounded. He lifted his thumb to his nose to learn the scent of his enemy.
The stench of the gunpowder had left his senses a little dulled but the scent he picked up now stilled him. He knew it only too well. He turned his head to stare at Joy. She was in the kitchen on the other side of the counter, leaning heavily against it. One hand was holding her upper arm and blood seeped between her fingers.
He’d hurt her. It must have happened when he’d thrown her out of the way. Her arm must have slammed into a counter and cut her skin. Regret was instant as he stared at her. She was pale as she watched him. He glanced at her hand again as he rose to his feet.
“I’m sorry.”
Tears filled her eyes, spilling down her cheeks. “My phone is in the bedroom. Call 9-1-1. My cordless is in the charging cradle in there.”
He was torn between going to her and doing what she asked.
