She couldn't breathe. Any idiot could see it.
But the idiot wasn't watching, wasn't letting her go.
She clawed at him, pushed at him, and her efforts began losing strength.
As her arms dropped and her body sagged he howled. Ronnie was going to kill her.
He made ready to go through the window as Ronnie released her and she fell to the floor. He'd kill the bastard.
He stopped when he saw her hands go to her throat. She curled up on her side.
Ronnie crouched down and fell over.
"God, babe, are you alright?"
Her voice is low and rough. "Get out."
"Hey, babe, I'm sorry, OK?" He takes her shoulders as they sit up. "Are you al...?"
She pulls away and smacks him across the face. "I said, get out."
"Lys, I didn't mean..."
"Goddammit, Ronnie, are you deaf? Get out of my house!"
He looks at her. She glares at him.
Emmett's outside, watching, pacing. Growling. Hackles raised. Paying no heed to the pain in his leg. Ready to do battle.
Ronnie stands and yanks up his jeans. Pulling the zipper up, roughly, he manages to catch himself. "Ow! Son of a..."
She continues to glare at him from her seat on the floor.
He walks to the front door, opens it, and turns to her. "Lyssa..."
She purposely turns her face from him, indicating her refusal to listen to anything he has to say right now.
Damn bitch. He walks out, slamming the door behind him.
She scrambles over and throws the deadbolt.
Turning away she sees Emmett pacing and growling. She then moved to the back door to let him in, then slammed and locked it.
She hadn't heard his truck start. Now, she began to be really afraid.
She scuttled away from the back door, into the middle of the living room, where she could watch both doors.
Emmett was on high alert. She had ordered the male from her house but the scent of fear hung heavy around her.
When she moved back, to sit on the living room floor, he stood beside her, guarding her.
She jerked and his eyes followed hers.
The other male, on the back porch, holding his ruined jacket.
The damn dog had ripped up his favorite jacket and had apparently pissed on it, too. It reeked.
He carefully pulled his keys from the pocket than got ahold of a dry corner and held it up. He walked over to the door and rapped on the frame, then yelled, "Your fucking dog ruined my jacket!"
He doesn't hear the single word response.
Dropping the jacket's remains, he stomps off.
"Good." she says quietly. The son of a bitch could have killed her. He'd gotten drunk and wasn't concerned about anything but himself. She'd passed out. He could have killed her.
She hears the truck start, back out of the driveway, and tear down the street. Her neighbors would not be pleased.
Her body sagged in relief as he left. She wrapped her arms around herself and burst into tears.
Emmett was a bit confused. The other male was gone. The threat removed, why was she upset?
He thought briefly about revealing himself to her but sensed it was not yet time. He sat on his haunches and licked her face.
After a little bit she threw her arms around him and cried into his shoulder.
She sniffled and pulled herself together. "I'm glad you're here, Emmett." She wipes her nose against her arm. "Ronnie's got me a little scared right now."
Both seated on the ground, his head is at the same level as hers. She looks into his chocolate eyes. "Thank you." He licks her face again.
Heaving a sigh, she roughly runs her hands up and down his spine. He groans at the sensation. A belch catches him by surprise. Her hands stop abruptly. "Where did you get beer?"
He whines.
Angry now, she rises and stalks out the back door, kicking his shredded, sodden jacket into the grass. She picks up the water bowl and notes the yellowish liquid in it. Then she looks at Emmett. "Asshole! How much beer did he give you?" Emmett looks up and whines again.
She puts a hand to his head. "Sorry, sweetie, I'm not mad at you."
She takes the bowl into the house, cleans it out and refills it. He drinks as she checks the grill then collects the rest of the items from the meal.
A noise startles her, and she drops the salad bowl and dressing. Dusk has come. She crouches, picking up the items, then rises and looks around carefully.
He notices the movement and looks at her. Afraid.
He scans the area, scents the air. There was no one or nothing around.
She scurried back into the house and put the items on the kitchen table.
Her cellphone rings. She checks the number and turns off the phone.
She goes to the back door. "C'mon, Emmett. Come inside."
Emmett trots into the house and she closes and locks the door behind him. She then turns on all the lights.
Lyssa walks over to the sink, drains the cold water, and stands there, staring at the dishes in the sink.
Emmett makes a circuit of the lower floor. His nose leads him around. A faint scent of another dog. The smell of a mouse around the cupboards. He checks the doors, the bathroom, the furniture.
She jumps when the refrigerator kicks on and again when he noses her palm. She still stunk of fear.
She runs a hand over his head. "I don't know what he'll do." Emmett whines.
She shakes herself and looks at him. "You're right. Dishes, dinner for you, and I'll check you out again. Then a movie and some popcorn, whaddya think?"
He gives a light bark of agreement.
Releasing a deep breath, she starts the water in the sink. She rinses out the bowl she had used to feed him, portioned out some hamburger, folded in an egg, and set it on the floor. "There you go."
He'd never actually hit her but he had a temper and was rough sometimes.
Emmett didn't like him.
He had been pretty good to her but..
She drops the plate in the sink as the phone rings. "Lyssa? ... Lyssa pick up the phone. ... C'mon, we need to talk. ... Quit being a bitch already. .."
There is a click as the answering machine stops recording and she releases a held breath. He sounded mad, and drunk.
She pulls the broken plate out of the sink then finishes the dishes and drains the water.
