"If I'm not back in an hour, call the cops," I joked into my radio earpiece, knowing full well Penny would roll her eyes on the other end.
"Actually, your one o'clock just canceled," she replied, sounding way too cheerful about it. "Take a long lunch. I'll let you know if we can move your two o'clock up to fill the spot."
I sighed. "In that case, I'm just gonna disconnect. Text me if the schedule changes." Before she could answer, I pulled the earpiece out and yanked the radio from my scrub jacket pocket, dumping the wired bundle onto the countertop. Shrugging off my jacket, I hung it on the breakroom coat rack near the back door. A walk sounded like the perfect way to reset after a hectic morning, even though the weather wasn't exactly inviting.
The gray skies and cold mist outside mirrored my mood--a total mess. Between difficult patients, last-minute cancellations, and the kid who thought my hand was a chew toy, I was ready for a break. I grabbed my knee-length raincoat, slid it over my bright red scrubs, and pushed open the heavy metal door, listening as it clicked shut and locked behind me.
Our dental office was right across from a little one-acre park. Normally, it was a lively spot full of families, joggers, and people lounging on benches. But today, with the weather being what it was, the park looked quiet with just a couple of brave souls determined to enjoy their day despite the March gloom. The paved walking path weaved about in a haphazard, winding loop less than half a mile long with trees small and large dotted throughout. A small babbling creek ran through it, making the two petite wooden bridges that crossed over it a hot spot for people to linger and talk. The creek water was shallow, maybe two feet deep at the deepest point, and barely running over the rocks by a couple of inches in other places.
I started across the crosswalk, muttering, "I love my job. I love my job. I love my job..." The words were more to convince myself than anything else. Still, the fresh air helped. It felt good not to be rushing around the office for a moment.
The Park was almost empty except for two people: a guy sitting on a bench with a navy umbrella and a woman powerwalking like her life depended on it. The guy on the bench caught my attention first. His black hoodie and scruffy beard screamed "mysterious loner." I made up a quick story about him-- waiting for a secret lover? No, too romantic. Drug dealer? Yep, that felt more fitting. Those green Adidas sneakers of his had mud splattered up the sides, which only added to the vibe.
As I passed him, I noticed the power-walking woman heading my way. I recognized her immediately--First Time Mom. I'd watched her circle this park throughout her entire pregnancy and now, months later, she was back, likely walking off the baby weight. She gave me a quick smile as we passed, and I silently cheered her on. You go, girl.
The loop around the park wasn't long, maybe ten minutes at a slow pace. By the time I made it back to where I started, First Time Mom had left, and I found myself walking past the bench guy again--Drug Dealer, as I'd already named him. Only this time, he was standing, holding his phone to his ear, but not saying anything. Weird. Something about him felt... off. I turned to glance back, curiosity getting the better of me.
Curiosity killed the cat...
"Give me your purse!" His voice was sharp, and when I turned fully, I saw the pocketknife glinting in his hand. My heart jumped into my throat as I held my hands up. "I don't--Look! I don't have a purse!" I squeaked, pulling open my rain jacket to prove it.
"I'll just take your wallet then," he said, stepping toward me.
"I didn't bring it with me..." My voice wavered, but I tried to stay calm, even though I had nothing to offer him. His eyes narrowed.
"I'm not leaving empty-handed," he growled.
Before I could think, my legs took over. I bolted to the left, darting across the wet grass as fast as I could. Behind me, I heard him give chase, his footsteps heavy and determined. My heart pounded as I sprinted toward the creek. It wasn't deep here, maybe a foot at most, but the banks had eroded in places, creating steep ledges. Perfect. If I could make it across, I could put some distance between us.
Without slowing down, I leapt. My feet hit the middle of the creek with a splash, and I scrambled up the far bank, my fingers digging into the wet grass as I hauled myself out. Rolling onto the ground, I pushed back to my feet and kept running, my shoes slipping on the slick ground.
That's when I saw him. A man standing on the walking path about fifteen feet away, watching me like I'd just fallen out of the sky. He had broad shoulders, a serious face, and an air of authority. Help, I thought. Please, God, let him be here to help.
"HELP!" I yelled, practically crashing into him. I grabbed his arm with both hands, and a jolt of electricity shot through me, like a static shock on a dry day. It left me gasping, my eyes locking onto his. His dark blue eyes were mesmerizing--like the deepest ocean, both beautiful and terrifying--dark ocean blue, where only the most disturbing of sea creatures lived, mixed with a latticework of Belize's beachy aqua seawater.
Behind me, I heard the mugger clambering up the creek bank. The man in front of me pushed me aside and reached for something inside his jacket. A gun. My heart stopped for a second before I noticed the badge clipped to his belt. Thank God. He's a cop.
What followed was a blur. The officer disarmed the mugger, secured his wrists, and cuffed him to a bench before calling for backup. Meanwhile, I stood there in a daze, my heart racing and my ankle throbbing. The detective turned to me, his brow furrowed with concern.
"Hey, are you okay? Do you need me to call an ambulance?" His voice cut through the quiet sounds of the park as he reached me, his words steady but full of concern. I couldn't seem to control my breathing, even though I'd been standing still for at least a minute. Too fast. I was breathing too fast.
"Hey," he repeated softly, his hands gripping my arms just below my shoulders, grounding me in the moment. "You need to calm down and take some deep breaths. You're going to give yourself a panic attack. Look at me."
I forced my eyes away from the mugger and up to his. "Telling a woman to calm down--is the opposite of what you do--when you want her--to calm down," I muttered between sharp breaths, trying for a bit of sarcasm to offset the panic coursing through me. His hands on my arms, though--warm and steady--sent tingles shooting down to my fingertips, distracting me more than I cared to admit. Or maybe that was the over-oxygenation...
Cupping my hands over my mouth, I focused on slowing my breaths, though it wasn't the breathing technique that helped most. No, it was those intense blue eyes of his, composed and unwavering, drawing me in with every passing second. "Sorry," I finally managed, exhaling sharply. "I'm a little... out of sorts right now. Never been chased by a criminal before." My attempt at a laugh came out weak, but I was trying. Humor is my go-to defense mechanism.
"Why don't you sit down over here," he said, face still stoic and serious, motioning to a swinging bench nearby. "I'll check on the patrol car for that guy." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the mugger.
"You mean the guy running away?" I said, pointing past him with mock urgency.
He whipped around, ready for action--only to find the guy still cuffed to the bench where he'd left him.
"Gotcha," I teased, a playful grin tugging at my lips despite the adrenaline still thrumming through my veins.
"You've got jokes," he said, chuckling as he pulled out his phone. "I'm gonna make that call now. Take a seat so I can get your statement."
I turned toward the swing, but as I took a step, a sharp pain shot up my ankle, and I let out an involuntary cry, wincing.
"Whoa," he said, steadying me with one arm around my waist and the other guiding my arm over his shoulder. His strength and warmth were impossible to ignore, and suddenly, I was very aware of every inch of his muscular frame.
"Let me help you over there before you make that worse."
My head was spinning--not just from the pain but from the sheer overload of everything happening. Was this what a panic attack felt like? I didn't even know.
He lowered me onto the swing gently, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary before he stepped back to make his phone call. Within minutes, a patrol car pulled up, and two uniformed deputies loaded the mugger into the back seat.
The chaos was over, but I couldn't stop replaying the moment I looked up into his eyes. He wasn't tall--maybe 5'7" or 5'8"--but broad and solid, with shoulders that practically screamed
gym rat.
His mousy blond hair, nearly brown, was cut in a clean fade, and though the windbreaker hid his arms, I could tell they were built. A tattoo peeked out just above his collar, a tantalizing hint at something deeper beneath the professional exterior.
"Oh, crap!" I blurted suddenly, realizing the time. I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to Penny:
Got mugged. Cute cop taking my statement. Messed up my ankle, going to urgent care after. Please cancel the rest of my day! I'll explain later.
I giggled at the thought of her reaction. This would make for a great story later.
Officer Ocean Eyes came back over, pulling a tiny notepad from his jacket. His professionalism was almost enough to distract me from how handsome he was.
"I'm just gonna get your information and some details about what happened," he said. "What's your name?"
