Chapter 5 - The Safe House UltimatumThe flashing red and blue lights of NYPD cruisers finally illuminated the clinic windows, casting long, eerie shadows across the room.
"The police are going to ask questions," Jen said, dropping her hand. "Lots of questions. About the bullet holes, about the dead guy in the alley, about why three men in tactical gear tried to assassinate a German Shepherd."
"Leave that to me," Jerry chimpered, stepping forward with his phone already out. "By the time the precinct logs the call, the report will state that three local vandals broke in, slipped on some industrial cleaning solution, and fell through the glass. Standard neighborhood rowdiness. Nothing to see here, Doc."
Jen stared at Jerry. "You're joking."
"Jerry never jokes about paperwork, Miss Adams," Tom grunted, tying off his bandage. "It's an art form."
Nick turned his gaze back to Jen. "Pack a bag. Essential items only. You're coming with me."
"I am not going anywhere with you, Nick Vance. I have patients tomorrow morning. A Golden Retriever with hip dysplasia at nine, and a cat neuter at—"
"The clinic is closed, Jen," Nick interrupted, his tone shifting into the unshakable command of a man used to being obeyed by everyone from street thugs to city mayors. He walked to the front door, unlocked it just as the first police officer stepped out of a cruiser, and flashed a small, innocuous-looking gold card.
The officer peered at the card, paled instantly, muttered something about "sorry to disturb you, Mr. Vance," and immediately turned around to wave his partner back toward the car.
Jen watched through the glass in absolute disbelief. "What did you just show him?"
"A reminder of why Brooklyn stays peaceful," Nick said, turning back to her. He walked over, picked up her canvas medical tote off the desk, and began tossing in her keys, a charger, and a spare sweatshirt. "Jerry, get Caesar in the back of the SUV. Tom, secure the perimeter."
"Wait!" Jen grabbed his arm. "If I go with you, what happens to my clinic? What happens to me?"
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Nick stopped, looking down at her with a tenderness that completely clashed with his reputation. He cupped her cheek with his hand, his thumb brushing lightly across her cheekbone. "Nothing happens to you, Jen. Because from this moment on, you are under my personal protection. And nobody touches what's mine."
Before she could process the weight of those words, he hoisted her bag over his shoulder, wrapped a protective arm around her waist, and guided her out into the cool Brooklyn night toward a sleek, armored black SUV waiting at the curb.
