Rhys Read online

  Of course, keeping an eye out was a whole different thing when you were a dog, but, hey, she’d take the fact that anybody cared, even a canine. With a hot cup of tea now in her hand, she put a leash on the dog and slowly made her way back out to the front of the house, where she sat down on the porch and stared. She didn’t even know why she was out here. Except maybe confronting the terror for her to be out here. She refused to let that become her world too. Seemed like everything had narrowed down to what she could handle and what she couldn’t, and 99 percent of it fell into that what she couldn’t handle department.

  And it sucked. In a big way. She used to be sociable. Until everything in the military had blown up. She used to have friends, until they took one look at her now and saw the shape she was in, and they made polite excuses and ran.

  She could hardly blame them. She wasn’t exactly anything to look at anymore, and she sure as hell wasn’t anything nice to be around. Not that it was her fault. It was nobody’s fault, including theirs. It’s just the way of it. And she was working at finding acceptance, but, in her heart of hearts, she knew that would take a lot longer.

  This isn’t who she wanted to be. She wanted to be the person she had left behind, when she went into the military, the one full of hope, the one full of patriotism, the one who was doing this because it was the right thing to do. Not this broken-down beat-up person who, so embittered even before her accident, that even now she found it hard to find any way forward. She knew who was responsible for a lot of that pre-accident part of her army life, and none of it made any difference because he wouldn’t pay the price. She was the one paying the price.

  And would continue to pay the price for a long time yet.

  She wanted to be healthy and whole; she wanted to see her way through all this, and yet all she saw was more nightmares, more pain, more intolerances that she struggled with, and how the hell was she supposed to find anything that made her happy about that? If only there was another answer, if only … she hadn’t gone to the military police to turn him in.

  Was it his fault where she was at now? Not likely. But he was ultimately the start of all this. And that was something that she found almost impossible to deal with. As she sat here on the porch, a truck pulled up to the front of the house. Immediately the dog stood up and studied the approaching vehicle. When it parked, and the engine turned off, she wondered idly which neighbor was visiting her.

  When the man stepped out, making absolutely no attempt to hide the prosthetic on his leg, she stared. And then her heart sank.

  “Better not be coming here,” she muttered to herself.

  Almost immediately the dog beside her growled.

  She looked over at him. “Is that because of me or because of him?” she muttered to the dog.

  The dog didn’t say anything but watched with a hawk’s eyes. As the man approached the small gate and unlocked it, stepping forward, he looked around carefully, catching sight of her. And then, with a nod, he called out, “Good afternoon.”

  She shook her head. “There’s nothing good about it. I don’t know what you’re doing here or what business you think you have, but you’re not welcome.”

  He stopped, stared, and then nodded. “And maybe that dog beside you has a different greeting for me.”

  And, sure enough, she looked down to see the dog, his tail going like crazy, a whine starting to come out of the back of his throat.

  The stranger entered the gate and slowly approached. “I mean you no harm.”

  She looked from him to the dog, who was straining at his leash. Immediately the man held up his hand in some sort of a command, and the dog’s butt hit the porch floor, but it couldn’t stop wiggling with joy. And, with that reaction, she unhooked the leash. “Well, isn’t that just something?” Her heart sank, as she realized that this man had a claim to this dog that she could never hope to have.

  The dog barreled toward him, jumping up on him, knocking him backward against the fence. Instead of being upset, the man just laughed, wrapped his arms around the dog, and held him close. At least as close as anybody could during such a wiggling embrace. When the dog finally got free again, he jumped down, doing zoomies all over the front yard.

  She’d never seen him act like this before. Didn’t think it would ever happen again. It was such normal dog behavior that she was happy for him, but, at the same time, she was sad because she hadn’t given him that sense of confidence, that sense of freedom, to be who he needed to be. And yet here this stranger walked up, opened the gate, and there he was, giving her dog what he needed.

  He looked at her slowly, took a couple steps forward, and asked, “May I come up?”

  She stared at him resentfully and then shrugged. “You’re already in, so you might as well.”

  He nodded and walked a few steps closer. “Thank you.”

  “What for?” she asked suspiciously.

  “For looking after Tallahassee here,” he replied.

  “He’s your dog?” she asked.

  Immediately he looked at her and shook his head. “No, but he was part of … a training unit that I worked with when I was in the navy.”

  “Navy?” She frowned.

  “I was part of a special unit that worked with dogs,” he added. “Tallahassee was one of them.”

  “And how do you know his name? I’ve been calling him Fred.”

  “Fred?” He shook his head, whistled, and called out, “Tallahassee, come.”

  The dog immediately raced over and jumped up again.

  At Rhys’s command, Tallahassee stopped jumping. Rhys turned toward her. “His name’s Tallahassee,” he repeated. “As you can see, he responds to it quite well.”

  “Did you know he was here? Is that why you’ve come?” she asked suspiciously.

  He immediately took a slow step back, as if realizing something in her world was flipping, and he understood that he was causing it.

  She shook her head at the stranger’s retreat and his lack of an answer. “Why are you here?” she repeated, her heart in her throat at the thought of losing the dog. She could only take so many losses in life—although she’d been prepared to lose this dog if it didn’t work out for her, which was selfish on her part. She hadn’t in any way expected somebody else to show up with a prior claim. But, after what she’d seen, it was obvious this man definitely had a prior claim.

  The man looked at her gently and said, “Before we discuss any of that, can you tell me if you’re okay?”

  She looked at him. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “What I mean,” he stated, “is about whoever shot into your house. Did they hit anything? Are you hurt?”

  She stared at him. “Shot?” Her voice was faint, her heart slamming against her chest.

  The stranger’s eyes narrowed, and he nodded slowly. “You didn’t hear it?”

  “I, … I did,” she confirmed, reaching a hand to her temple. She closed her eyes. “I just wasn’t sure if it was real or not.”

  “You didn’t imagine it,” he declared, his voice harsh. “Somebody drove by and shot into your house multiple times.”

  Chapter 2

  Taylor didn’t even know what to say. Finally she gasped out, “Shots?”

  He nodded. “He lifted a handgun, while I was parked across the street, and fired into the house. I’m not sure what he was firing or what his intentions were,” he noted calmly, studying her with a gaze that she found intensely unnerving. “But obviously something’s going on.”

  “Maybe it was random,” she murmured. She felt that jump of hope at such a suggestion, but, even as soon as she mentioned it, she knew it was wrong. She gave a hard swallow and got up and bolted inside the house. He followed but stayed close to the front door. She stood in the living room. clenching her hands together.

  “Do you want to tell me what kind of trouble you’re in?”

  She immediately spun and looked at him. “Why are you here?” she asked bluntly.

  He hesita
ted, then shrugged. “I came to check on Tallahassee,” he said.

  Her gaze widened. “You came to check on the dog?”

  He nodded. “It may sound ridiculous to you, but we do take these War Dogs seriously. They’ve given a lot of their lives to save others in military service,” he explained. “When the animals retire, we try hard to keep track of them and to ensure that they’re getting a decent home. This one slipped through the cracks, and somehow ended up in a situation where he came to you.”

  She nodded. “Yes, at the shelter. I know somebody there, and they thought maybe I would be a good fit for the dog.”

  “And are you?” he asked bluntly.

  She stared at him. “A good fit for the dog’s one thing. However, like what I just saw, like how he was with you? That’s something I’ve never seen from Fred—Tallahassee—before,” she admitted. “So, if you are looking for those circumstances, then I can’t say that I am. Would I love to? Yes. Would I like to get more training? Yes. I did ask for that.”

  “And we did hear that,” he confirmed. “But these dogs, although they’re not hard to look after, they do have some special needs. I looked up Tallahassee’s file, and, of course, he’s been through an awful lot of action. Has it bothered him?”

  She stared at him. “Bothered him in what way?” she asked, her voice faint.

  He shrugged. “What was he doing when the bullets hit the house?”

  She shook her head. “I heard the bangs, but I didn’t hear anything hitting the house.”

  His gaze narrowed. “I’ll be back.” And, with that, he stepped out the front door.

  She sagged to the couch, wondering what had just happened to her world. It was bad enough what she thought she was going through. But to know that somebody had deliberately fired upon her house? That was beyond cruel. And that brought her thoughts all the way back around to who she knew most likely was behind it. And how much was that asshole behind it anyway?

  Her mind couldn’t even grasp how this was happening. And she needed to get it together before she looked like somebody who had completely lost it and who couldn’t keep a dog. She stared down at Tallahassee, who, instead of following the stranger outside, had stayed beside her. She reached out a hand, and he came over and gently pressed his muzzle against her hand. When she looked up, the stranger was watching them interact.

  He gave a nod. “Tallahassee cares.”

  “Maybe,” she agreed, her voice faint, “but that doesn’t mean it’s a good fit.”

  “Maybe not,” he noted. “Most of that’ll depend on you.”

  She didn’t know what to say. “What’s your name?” she asked. “I can’t believe I let you in here without even knowing who you are.”

  He stepped forward, pulling a card from his wallet. “This is me,” he said.

  “Rhys Gorman,” she read aloud. “You’re a trainer?”

  “I am. I was,” he corrected. “I vowed to never do it again because, after losing as many dogs as I have in war, I found it very difficult to handle, to process. When I saw my last action, I lost my dog at the time. I swore I’d never get back into working with animals again because the pain of losing them is so horrific. Believe me. I took a lot of ribbing for that attitude too.”

  She stared at him. “Why?”

  “Because a lot of people don’t look at animals as having the same relationship to people. Some of the guys knew exactly how I felt, but others? Not so much.”

  She nodded as she stared down, her hand absentmindedly stroking Tallahassee’s coat. “He’s a beautiful animal,” she whispered.

  “He is, indeed, and he certainly has taken to you,” he stated.

  “No, I don’t think so. I think he’s just—” Then she stopped, shrugged, and added, “I don’t know. I don’t know what he is.”

  “Obviously something is going on in your world. I would like to help.”

  She stared at him in shock. “You don’t even know what it is, and you don’t know who I am,” she murmured. “So even saying something like that is foolish.”

  He stared at her with that unrelenting, unwavering gaze, and she felt herself trying to pull in and away. Yet everything inside her felt exposed, as if he could see something that she didn’t want him to.

  “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

  She immediately shook her head. “No, I don’t,” she replied in an attempt at bravado that she didn’t feel. “You need to decide if the dog stays with me or not.” When he remained silent, she added, “I need to go lie down, and, therefore, I’ll shut the front door and lock it and head upstairs. And you don’t get to stay.” She faced him down with a look that she had perfected for a very long time, but she also knew would have absolutely no effect on him.

  “That’s fine,” he agreed. “And, no, I’m not making that decision regarding Tallahassee right now.”

  “And can you make that decision?” she asked. “Is that something within the power that you have?”

  “I don’t know. Don’t give me a reason to find out.”

  No threat was in those words, but she felt a chill creep over her shoulders anyway. She walked to the front door and pulled it open. “If you need any more questions answered, it’ll have to happen later.”

  “And what good will later do?”

  “I won’t be quite so exhausted,” she replied, “at least I hope not.”

  He nodded. “And how much is that exhaustion from what just happened?”

  She stiffened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t lie to me,” he said impatiently. “I get that something’s wrong in your world right now. But you didn’t call for the police, you didn’t do anything, outside of sit here almost frozen, when I told you that somebody had deliberately done a drive-by shooting.”

  “You don’t know what I might have done,” she argued, “or what I might be planning to do.”

  “Well, the timing has already gone for calling the cops,” he stated bluntly.

  She looked at him. “Did you call?”

  He shook his head. “No, I didn’t. I wanted to talk to you first.”

  “Well, now you have,” she murmured, as she motioned at the door. “Please leave.”

  He took several steps toward the door, obviously not happy about it. When Tallahassee started to bark, he stopped, looked at him, and asked, “What’s up, boy?”

  Tallahassee raced past the front door, now open, where they both stood.

  Rhys immediately followed the War Dog, and there, in the distance, was the same damn truck, ripping down the road.

  “That was him,” he told her, as she came up behind him. “That’s the vehicle that shot at your house.”

  She stared in the distance. “I didn’t see it at the time. Did you get enough of a look to identify it?”

  “No,” he admitted. “I took off after it the first time, thinking that it was probably just a random shooting. However, the fact that he came back again means it wasn’t.” He turned to her and said, “So screw the nap. I need you to tell me exactly what’s going on.”

  “Or else what?” she asked.

  He stared at her before replying. “I don’t know who hurt you or why, or where this is all coming from, but whatever is happening right now is not something to play around with. I’ve seen more trouble than I would like to ever remember, but I’m not about to leave somebody who’s in trouble right now.”

  “You mean the dog?” She tried for a sneer, yet failed. Probably because she was desperate to talk to somebody, desperate to have answers, something concrete that she could do about this nightmare her life had become.

  He shook his head. “No,” he corrected her gently. “You need a friend.” And he gently nudged her back inside, called Tallahassee, and slammed the door shut. “And now you’ve got one, whether you like it or not.”

  Rhys studied the woman’s face, seeing the exhaustion, the stress, the shakiness. “You need to go lie down,” he stated bluntly. He pul
led a card from his pocket, handed it to her, and said, “This is my boss. Call him, verify that I’m here, why I’m here, and then go lie down. And we’ll talk as soon as you’re awake again.”

  She just stared at him, but such a blankness filled her gaze that he wondered if she’d been alone for a very long time or just lived constantly under extreme stress.

  He gently turned her, moved her toward the stairs, and asked, “Is your bedroom upstairs?”

  She nodded. “Yes, but it’s a little hard to get there.”

  He studied her for a moment and looked down at the prosthetic foot, a very rudimentary one, and nodded. “Have you looked into getting a better prosthetic?”

  “Once I heal from the last surgery.”

  He grimaced. “Been there, done that.” In a move that surprised even himself, he bent down, scooped her into his arms, and started up the stairs, Tallahassee racing up behind him.

  “Oh my God,” she said, grabbing on to him. “How can you do this? You have a missing leg yourself.”

  “I do,” he confirmed. “I’m a little farther ahead on the surgeries than you.”

  “Is there ever such a thing?” she asked in a broken laugh.

  He winced, hearing the stress, the defeat, the knowledge that he could relate to about everything that had gone wrong and could go wrong and in her case quite possibly had gone wrong.

  “Something’s going on in your world,” he noted, “but we can’t deal with anything until you’re a little bit more cognizant and aware.”

  “I don’t sleep anyway,” she replied bluntly, as he carried her up the stairs.

  “Well, you will now. Right now your job is to get into your room,” he stated at the top of stairs, as he slowly lowered her to her feet. “And get some sleep.”

  “And if I can’t?” she asked. “What will you do? You can’t just order me to do something and have it happen.”

  He gave her half a smile. “If life were that simple, I could have solved all kinds of problems in the world.”

  It was obvious that she wanted to smile at that, but just so much else was wrong in her world right now that he knew that she wasn’t even listening to him. “It’ll be fine,” he stated. “First sleep.”