The Queen's Dogs

"Follow her. Protect her." Those were his orders. That was his purpose, his entire existence. He notices out of the corner of his eye his charge getting up out of her seat. There sat her maroon wallet left behind and forgotten. He swiftly got to his feet and scooped up the delicate material, turning to catch up to her retreating form.
"Miss," I call out.
My heart flutters the tiniest bit, but I suppress the feeling almost subconsciously. I have a purpose I must fulfill no matter the cost. I catch up to her quickly.
"Hey, Miss." I wave the wallet in the air, hoping to gain her attention. She turns around at hearing the title. Her brows are tugged into the slightest frown of confusion and curiosity, which only highlights her round eyes. She spots the wallet in my hand and her eyes light up, a gentle smile curving her lips. And as if on cue, a car races down the road. But I can tell by the shifting weight that this is a highly trained driver and that this is no coincidence.
Just as if it were a scene in the movies, time seems to slow down, though I know it's just the adrenaline hitting my system in response to my charge being in danger. I pull her into my arms and note the heat in her curvy body as I yank her around, the force of my actions switching our positions, effectively keeping her safe.