Haydn was sniffing the side of the car. Forte tore his attention from Sophie. Actually, the black dog was very interested in the car.
Then Haydn deliberately sat and looked up at Forte. It was a clear, passive signal. One Haydn had been specifically trained to give as a military explosives detection dog.
Shit.
“Sophie. Step away from your car.”
She popped up from the trunk. “Huh?”
“Do it.”
Sophie always listened to him, Rojas, or Cruz when they were urgent. She complied, thank god. He gave Haydn a terse command, then circled around to grab Sophie and get more distance, reaching for his smartphone.
They got a couple of yards away and Sophie craned her neck to look back at her car, even as she kept moving with him. She always did as he asked immediately, but she had a brain and she insisted on explanations after she complied. “What—”
Behind them, the trunk hatch came down with a solid thunk.
Forte let out a curse and grabbed her, pulling them down to the ground and rolling for cover of other cars as an explosion lifted the entire driver’s side of her car.
Sophie screamed. Maybe. She was pretty sure she did, but wrapped in Brandon’s arms and smooshed up against his chest, she wasn’t sure if she’d gotten it out or if it’d only been in her head.
The explosion was crazy loud. The concussive force of it slammed into both her and Brandon despite the shelter of the cars he’d pulled them behind.
He covered most of her, one of his hands tucking her head protectively into her chest. His other arm was around her waist. They were horizontal.
Not the way she’d daydreamed this would happen.
After a long moment, all she could hear was the ringing in her ears. Her heart thundered in her chest. And she thought, maybe, Brandon’s lips were pressed against her temple.
Or was it her imagination.
His voice started to penetrate the roaring sound filling her head. The words slowly started to make sense. “Are you hurt?”
His weight lifted off her and his hands started to roam over her, gentle and with purpose. Looking for injuries.
“Haydn?” She sounded funny in her own mind, but Brandon met her gaze for a moment and jerked his chin to one side.
“Don’t turn to look until I check to see if you hurt your neck or head.” His admonishment came through sharp. It was the way he talked when he was worried. People thought it was meanness, but it wasn’t. He was frightened. For her. “Haydn’s right here. He’s fine.”
As Brandon continued, a cold nose touched her cheek. Big ears came into view and warm, not so sweet, breath huffed across her face.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” she whispered. It was for both Brandon and the dog.
A brief whine answered her. Then a large, furry body lay down next to her, just barely touching her shoulder and side.
“He’s going to stay here with you.” Brandon rose. “Can you lay here until the ambulance comes, Sophie? Please?”
Then she realized things hurt. Her shoulder, her hip. Shooting pain was coming from her ankle. Maybe the only thing that didn’t hurt was her head.
“Is it bad?” She stared up at Brandon as he lifted his smartphone to his ear. Sirens were already approaching.
Brandon held out his hand. “Give us space please. Stay off the black top!”
People must be gathering. He was stepping out to take command of the situation. He was walking away from her. Again.
“Don’t leave me,” she whispered it. She always said it quietly. Because she didn’t want him to actually hear her.
A soft woof answered her instead. Careful not to turn her head, because Brandon asked her not to, she looked as far to her side as she could. There was Haydn lying next to her. His eyes were dark, almost as black as his fur. And his gaze was steady on hers. Calming. He wasn’t going to leave her.
“Okay, Haydn,” she whispered to her new friend. “We’ll wait right here for him.”
It’s what she’d always done. And this time, she had company.