Juniper was curled in the same corner, his chain thick and cruel around his neck. Gabby’s eyes welled up, but she forced herself to stay focused. She knelt, slipped on the gloves, and slid the metal cutters from her pocket. The clink of metal meeting metal felt deafening.
She squeezed. Again. Again. Every snap made her flinch, half-expecting Josh to appear or a dog to lunge. But nothing stirred. Just soft breathing and drugged dreams. At last, the chain gave way with a sharp click. Gabby scooped Juniper into her arms. He barely stirred—his breathing deep, peaceful.
Her arms trembled under his weight, but she held him close, his body limp against her chest. She moved through the yard like a shadow, one foot at a time, keeping her eyes fixed on the latch of the back gate. She reached for it—then froze as the back door creaked.
Josh stepped out again, phone pressed to his ear, but this time his gaze swept the yard. “What the hell—?” he muttered. Gabby’s blood turned to ice. She tried to yank the gate latch furiously but with Juniper in her arms, the gate wouldn’t open.
Gabby heard Josh’s voice crack through the yard, sharp and furious. “What the hell are you doing?” Her hands fumbled at the latch again, but it wouldn’t budge. She turned around slowly, Juniper still cradled in her arms, her heart plummeting. She was stuck. Trapped. And he was coming.
Josh stormed across the yard, eyes blazing. Gabby crouched quickly and set Juniper down behind her. Her voice trembled but rose with rage. “How could you do this? You monster! How could you hurt these poor animals?” Her shout rang through the daylight, echoing against the warped siding of the house.
Josh sneered, grabbing a thick stick from the porch, weathered and dark. “You think you’re their savior?” he spat, stalking forward. “You should’ve stayed out of it.” His knuckles whitened around the wood. He lifted it, steps quickening, arm poised to strike—and then the world erupted in red and blue.
Sirens wailed through the midday quiet, police cruisers screeching to a stop. The flashing lights flooded the driveway, spilling into the backyard. Josh froze mid-stride, eyes wide, breath hitching. In a split-second decision, he turned and bolted toward the back door—but two officers were already there, waiting.
They tackled him before he could make it to the threshold, pinning him down on the porch. Gabby stood frozen, barely breathing, her pulse roaring in her ears. One officer jogged toward her, checking for injuries. “Are you hurt?” he asked. She just shook her head. She couldn’t speak.
Moments later, Gabby sat at the edge of an open ambulance parked at the curb. A paramedic wiped the scrape on her elbow, but her gaze stayed fixed on the yard. Josh, now in cuffs, was shoved into the back of a police cruiser. Juniper lay beside her, still sleeping soundly.