Hey Jude (Lennox Valley Chronicles #1)

46

JUDE

The only thing more alarming than seeing a car I don’t recognize parked near my driveway is the scene illuminated in front of me when I pull up to the house.

Time seems to slow as I process what I’m seeing. Olena stands at the foot of the porch steps, stiff and trembling. She’s got a vise grip on something I can’t quite see—a canister of something?—in her outstretched arms, aiming it at a man on the ground. His hands are tied behind his back as he writhes and struggles in front of her, his eyes swollen, red, and squeezed shut, in obvious pain. She turns and squints as I drive up, blinking repeatedly. I’m out of the truck in an instant, running to her. Murphy follows at my heels, barking and growling at the man, who must be Sean.

“Olena!” I say, my eyes wide. I stop in front of them. “Oh my God…”

“Call 9-1-1,” she grits out. She’s breathing hard, her voice strained.

Of course. No phone, so she couldn’t call for help. I reach into my back pocket for my phone. Murphy’s still barking and I call him to my side, quieting him, and dial 9-1-1.

Taking in the knot, which would put any boy scout to shame, it doesn’t look like Sean’s got a hope in hell of wriggling out. My eyes widen when they settle on Olena’s hands, and I realize the canister in her shaking grasp is bear spray. Holy shit.

Sean jerks on the ground, groaning with the strain of fighting to get free. “I can’t fucking see!” he wheezes out, angry and desperate.

Her eyes snap down to him. “Shut the fuck up, Sean,” she snaps, her voice ragged. She coughs, looking like she’s struggling to take a deep breath. Probably from the bear spray. That shit gets everywhere.

My mind reels as I wait for the 9-1-1 operator. “Jesus, Olena…” I press a fist to my forehead. Where’d she even get bear spray? What just happened here?

Relaying what I can to the operator, I’m soon assured the police and ambulance are on their way and am told to stay on the line. Putting the call on speakerphone, I place my phone down on the porch and slowly approach Olena. Meeting her tearful, red eyes is like a punch to the stomach. She looks terrified.

“Let me,” I say gently.

She holds my gaze without moving, still pointing the bear spray at Sean, her breathing ragged. She’s frozen.

I try again. “It’s gonna be okay. Let me help.” I reach a hand toward the canister. “Take my phone and go wait by your car, okay?”

“Olena!” Sean groans, wheezing. “Untie my fucking hands!”

His words seem to snap her into action and she hands me the bear spray, backing away in an unsteady stumble. She grabs my phone and hurries toward her car, looking grateful to put some distance between herself and Sean. Is she limping? What the fuck did this prick do to her? My jaw clenches.

“Fucking let me go!” he wheezes.

When I see Olena reach her car, I turn my attention to the asshole on the ground.

“Not a fucking chance, dickhead,” I grit out at him through clenched teeth. He hurt her. I could kill him. My concern for Olena is the only thing stopping me from plunging headfirst into a blind rage and taking it out on Sean. Well, that and knowing that I’ll have to keep it reined in if I don’t want to get hauled away for assault too.

“Fuck you, asshole!” he grinds out hoarsely.

I speak in a deadly calm. “This ends here. You’re never gonna see her again.”

He groans again, wheezing from the bear spray’s inflammatory effects on his airway.

The ambulance arrives in minutes, followed closely by the police, who quickly take over. They handcuff Sean and cut the rope restraint. While one paramedic assesses Sean, the other checks over Olena.

“You’re gonna want to wash up after touching that stuff,” an officer says to me, tilting her chin at the canister of bear spray in my hand.

I nod, then place it on the porch, numbly wiping my hands on my jeans. Seeing that Olena is busy speaking to another officer, I duck into the house. I quickly change my clothes, then wash my hands thoroughly to remove any residue.

It’s only when I come back outside that I spot the knife; the gleaming edge of the blade is just visible from under one of the benches, lit up by the red and blue police lights. My stomach drops and my eyes snap to Olena, who is rubbing her arms in the chill of the evening air as she relays her statement to the officer.

He pulled a fucking knife on her. A weight descends heavily over me as I watch her.

She glances over and meets my eyes before she looks back to the officer in front of her.

He motions to yet another officer, who confers with him quickly before coming up to search the porch.