Stella’s body flooded with relief when she opened the door to find Bennett standing there.
He was battered and bruised. But alive!
His right eye was swollen shut. His lower lip split open. It looked as though his left shoulder was out of its socket, the way his arm hung at his side.
“Dana.” Stella called out to Bennett’s second in command. “Come help me get Bennett inside.” She said.
In an instant, the shifter was at her side. Her tall, slim frame quickly scooped up Bennett’s large, muscular one, as if hoisting a bag of dog food. Dana carried the hurt man to the couch.
“Where’s your father?” Stella asked, scanning the distance between her house and Bennett’s house next door. The two old Victorians shared a common driveway.
“He’s not coming.” Bennett moaned.
Dana shot Stella knowing look that Stella’s worried brain couldn’t understand.