Shawn, still lying in bed, pulled out his phone from his pocket and found a strange text message.
He tapped it open.
The next second, his piercing gaze shot straight at Frank, who was still rambling on and on nearby.
Frank shrank under Shawn’s glare, suddenly uneasy.
“Shawn, what’s wrong? Is the anesthesia wearing off or something?”
Shawn took a deep breath and asked, “Did you call the fire department?”
At the mention of this, Frank’s face flushed with annoyance and embarrassment. He didn’t bother to explain how he’d mixed up the police and fire department numbers in his contacts and jumped straight into covering up his mistake.
“Yeah, well, only firefighters have what it takes to deal with those big dogs. They carry tranquilizer guns—you know that, right? But the fire department never showed. Thank God Sabrina called someone else, or we’d have been in real trouble.”
As soon as Frank finished, Stella jumped in, eager to share her own disappointment.
“He said he called the police and texted the fire department. I was still holding out hope the police would come rescue us. But honestly, these days, you can’t count on the cops for anything!”
If Shawn’s back hadn’t still been aching from his wound, he probably would’ve gotten up and punched Frank right then and there.
“You tried to call the fire department—so why did you text me?” he demanded.
Frank blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”
Shawn just tossed his phone to Frank, too irritated to explain.
Frank grabbed the phone and looked at the message.
Oh, hell.
“Shawn, why did the text I meant for the fire department end up on your phone?”

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