by D. C. Stone
He took a step toward his pop when he stepped into the opening, seeing him in the family room watching something on TV. Daniel had risen, a look of wonder on his face as his gaze rested on Chris.
But Chris stopped in his tracks as his gaze went through the kitchen and landed on his mother who had tears in her eyes and a tan kitchen towel clasped between her two hands. She wrenched the towel in her fists, twisting and turning the cloth. Her face grew redder as he stared at her until he started to grow alarmed.
He turned and took two steps toward her, sending her a questioning, “Ma?”
“Christopher Daniel Gonzalez,” she snapped, her voice booming through the room. He stopped in his tracks and winced.
“Ma—” he tried again, only to be cut off.
“Four weeks, my boy couldn’t come down to check in with his mother.”
He sighed. Behind him, he heard Pop call her name softly.
“Sixteen years you’ve been gone and yet you take another four weeks before finally stopping in to make sure we can see with our own eyes you are okay.”
“Ma,” he said again, stepping closer. “Listen to me.”
“I will not!” she snapped. “I don’t care if you came home for holidays and we would see you only a week or two here and there. When you hear that your baby boy has been shot and rushed to Germany for better medical care, then is forced to come home to get better, you do not wait four weeks to come see your mother!”
She burst out crying. Chris rushed across the room to her and took her much shorter body into his arms, pulling her to his chest and holding her as sobs wracked over her frame. He got it.
He was such an ass.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his mouth at the top of her hair. She still smelled of autumn spices, something he’d always associated with her. Her hair also had more gray in it than he’d seen last year when he’d been home for Christmas, but under all of that, she was still just his mom.
Her little fists smacked at him every so often, followed by a soothing mother’s touch. If his heart didn’t feel as if it was crumbling to the ground with each cry she wrenched out, he might have laughed.
Instead, he felt like absolute shit for doing this to her. And he had no excuse. He should have been here the day after he’d come home. He’d been too wrapped up in his own world, had grown too independent on himself, to realize that he had others who wanted him to rely on them.
His mother included.
Karen pulled back in his arms and took his face between her hands, her eyes watery, tears tracking along her cheeks. “Ma,” he said again. “Stop crying. I’m fine. I’m here. I’m alive.”
“Don’t do that again, Christopher Daniel,” she admonished. “You’ve just bought yourself yard duty with that stunt. And pool cleaning for the next month. I expect to see you over here more.”
He wouldn’t remind her he was in his mid-thirties, that she really couldn’t hold that kind of punishment over his head, but they’d both know he would be lying. He’d be over more per her wish and do his punishment because it was the right thing to do.
“Come give your old man a hug, too,” Pop said from behind, and Chris turned to do as bid. His pop gave a hearty slap on his back that caused him to wince before pulling away. Not fast enough though, if Pop’s face was any indication. “Sorry, son, are you okay?”
Chris nodded. “It’s healing up fine.”
“Sit,” Ma said and motioned toward the stools at the island. “I’ll get you some food and you can tell us all about what’s going on with you.”
Knowing this was the real reason he’d come home today, he did as told and went through it all, from the mission—leaving out the confidential stuff and his suspicions about the leak, to his injuries and DA’s, and the recovery needed for both. His partner’s retirement, and the town’s new veterinarian.
The roasted pork was as good as it smelled, spices exploding on his tongue and the meat soft enough to make a man beg for more.
He pushed his bowl across the table with a questioning look to his mother, for which she grinned and scooped up another serving.
“So, what are your plans with Delta Alpha?” Pop asked.
He lifted a shoulder and dug in for more roast, chewing and swallowing before responding. “I have no say in him coming out of retirement. That’s a done deal. There’s a lot that goes behind keeping an MWD’s certifications up and there’s no way I can safely say he’s not going to relapse at the most inopportune time. So, I’m adopting him. I plan to give him a good life … for what he has left. It’s the least I can do.”
“I think that’s a good plan,” his pop responded. “What about you? This Barber guy brings up a good point. You only have four more years before retirement, then you’ll be set with a paycheck that comes in every month for life. Four years doesn’t seem that long in the whole scheme of things.”
It didn’t, that was true. But he wasn’t sure that was what he wanted to do. He shrugged. “I’m not sure. Still thinking that through.”
Daniel lifted a brow. “Wanna share what you’re thinking?”
Chris finished his second helping of roast then pushed the bowl away, his stomach full to bursting. “There are … some things I can’t say yet, but I’m not real certain I’m up for another four years.” He lifted a hand when his mother opened her mouth. “It’s a lot of stress on the body and mind. While I think I could get through that, I’m uncertain I want to. I was thinking of starting my own contracting firm to do some security missions. Ones I will have control over. There’s a lot that goes on behind the scenes with these missions. And I’m wondering if, or how, I could build a team that would, or could, make that process better.”
“I’m not going to pretend I understand any of what you just said, son, but I know you’ll make the right decision,” Pop answered with a conviction that made Chris sit a little taller.
He nodded. What more could be said? Nothing he wanted to put on their shoulders. They were all things he needed to work out, stuff he needed to communicate with his team. The compromise of their mission was looking more and more like they’d been set up. But why? And by whom?
“Anyhow,” he said and wiped his mouth with a napkin, “how are my brothers doing? Have you all heard from them? I saw D in town a few days ago, and Matt gave me the code to his garage to get my truck, but outside of some short texts, I haven’t been able to keep in touch or up-to-date with any of what they are doing.”
His mother laughed, the sound so much better than her heartbreaking cries from earlier. He shot her a grin. “Oh, mijo, you boys are all so much alike. It’s a wonder you came from different places.”
His father winked at her before turning to Chris. “Mike is still working with the Secret Service. He’s down in Washington right now on the SWAT Team. Met some pretty young lady he’s been seeing for a few months now. Your mother keeps asking him to bring her up, but you know how Mike can be.”
He nodded. Mike looked at meeting the parents as the equivalent to promising marriage. He’d only bring a woman home when she was the one. He also spent so much time in the gym doing CrossFit that it was any wonder he had any kind of social life at all.
“Matt is still doing his thing with the DEA. He’s off on some assignment and calls only slightly more than you do,” his mother said with an admonishing frown. “Last I heard he was somewhere in South America, but a few weeks before he’d been in Texas. So who knows where he is now.”
“Jake,” his father inserted, “is still in New York and was recently promoted to detective. He’s coming home this next weekend, so maybe you might want to stop by then.”
“Sounds like a plan. Be good to catch up with Jakey Snakey.”
His mother laughed again. “I’m still curious how he got that nickname.”
Chris shook his head. “There are some things a son cannot tell his mother. Sorry.”
His pop chuckled, then said, “And Luke just graduated from the US Marshal Academy, so he’s
getting geared up for what he’s going to do. So far it’s been serving in some court cases.”
“Okay,” he said, “that’s great and all, but I need the dirty. Give me the juice, something that I might be able to either wow them with knowing when I see or talk to them next, or something that they might not want their big brother knowing.”
“You mean the big brother that teases them mercilessly?” Ma asked with a smirk.
“Um, is that not a reason to live?” he asked back.
His pop’s bark of laughter was short and loud. “All right, son. Grab a beer from the fridge and let’s settle in. This might take a while.”
And he did. This … this was why he came home.
Chapter Twelve
Late the next night, Samantha fell into bed with a sigh. Thunder rumbled over her apartment, sounding loud upstairs. It had been a humid day, so her normally tame hair seemed to grow a mind of its own and poof in every which way. She’d ended up setting the mass in a messy bun atop her head and set in to get the day’s tasks completed.
It’d been a full day of appointments and well-care visits. The town seemed receptive to having a new vet, and some horror stories she heard about the surrounding town veterinarians had made the hairs on her arms stick up. From broken bones failing to set, to the wrong medications being administered, she’d made a vow to the town’s folks, and their furry friends, that she’d do everything in her power to be there for them all, to care for them all, and to provide the best medical support she could.
As a result of the busy day, she’d been late getting to the other tasks she had and by the time she and Hailey had managed to get all the rooms clean, she’d been a walking zombie. This would be an adjustment. That was what she kept telling herself, from the weather to the people, to the culture, her ever-growing worry regarding her pregnancy, and the new business pains. She couldn’t be happier that things were going so well, but she needed to think about getting another assistant. One that could hold down the fort when she went out on maternity leave.
She winced. She still needed to get in to see a doctor.
Good business practice would be to wait a few months to settle in before she decided to bring in an assistant, but she had a very real need for one, and would need someone who knew the ins and outs of her business before she went on leave. The thought of waiting even one or two more months before getting the additional support she needed now made her bones ache even more.
She closed her eyes on that last thought, only to have them jar open again what seemed to be minutes later. A loud boom shook the apartment, followed by a flash of light outside, then another boom.
The storm…
Wind howled outside her window and downstairs DA whined. She took a moment to glance at the clock, which was dark. Ugh. “Power must be out. Dang it.”
She had an emergency generator that would power certain pieces of necessary equipment and the alarm to the main clinic, but that generator didn’t extend to the upstairs. From the low whirring of an engine she heard between the rain and thunder, she knew it was on.
She needed to check on DA and the clinic. He normally came upstairs, as he’d graduated to sleeping upstairs, but he wasn’t in his usual spot. When she’d gone to sleep, he’d been beside her bed deep in doggy dreamland.
Slipping out of bed, she grabbed for her pants. Because of the darkness in her apartment and the storm outside, it was difficult to find her way out of the studio and to the stairs that led to the clinic below. Only the deep glow of blue lights—set to charge constantly in the electrical outlets when the power was on—sporadically placed along the clinic’s walls helped kept her from tumbling down the stairs.
At the bottom, she slid under the hutch separating the front reception from the clinic. “Delta boy,” she called.
A low, growling noise responded, sounding to the rear of the room near the back door. Memories of a few weeks back when DA had first cornered her at the desk flipped through her mind, but she pushed it away. He wasn’t the same dog, and she wasn’t the same vet as she’d been then. She understood now how she’d need to interact with him should he have a setback. Sure, fear still coursed through her veins. He was a trained animal, designed to bite and kill on command, but over the course of the past few weeks, she liked to think their bond had grown to where he wouldn’t hurt her.
“Delta Alpha,” she called again, moving toward the back door.
His low grumble and whine responded to her almost immediately. A light-blue light next to the back door illuminated him standing there, shaking and cowering.
“Damn it,” she said under her breath, witnessing a setback happen before her eyes. It must be the thunder. Even she had to admit it was loud and scary.
DA pawed at the door and rather than holding him in from doing any business he may need to do, she turned the alarm off to the clinic and opened the door.
He shot out like a cannon. With the door open, the storm was even louder. Rain came down in a wave, and with each gust of wind, it sent the liquid smacking against her. Lightning spun one rod after another, followed by the clash and bang of thunder.
DA’s whines and growls filled the air, his entire body shaking with the force of his fear. He completed his business quickly but rather than coming back inside, he went to a corner and curled into a ball, his lips curled back from his teeth, and growled viciously. She could hear him over the storm, but the image was clear as if it was day.
She couldn’t leave him outside like that, nor did she know how to get him inside. She tried a few commands, but he didn’t respond.
With nothing left to do, she grabbed DA’s leash and headed outside. Rain soaked her to the skin immediately, hitting her like needles with its force. Wind pushed her body sideways as she tried to make it to DA’s side. With each step closer to him, his growls became louder to her ears.
“Delta Alpha,” she tried in her most stern voice, “come!”
He let out a snarling sound in response. Definitely a setback. And with the thunder sounding even louder by the second, she knew she was in over her head. She needed Chris. As much as she hated to have to call him so late, as much as she regretted having gotten herself in this situation—again—and as much as she wished she didn’t have to ask him to drive in this storm, there was no one else available that could get DA calmed down and inside the facility but him.
She went to turn and a loud snarl froze her in her tracks. Shit. Not this again.
Rain pushed her hair over her head, drawing the strands over her face and eyes. She didn’t dare move. Not with the sounds coming out of DA’s mouth.
The snarling came closer and closer until she shook with the need to run. That would be the worst thing she could do with a dog. The growling sounded as if it were right on top of her and she jumped slightly as DA brushed against her leg then stood sentry in front of her. She didn’t dare move. Didn’t dare look down, but she had a suspicious feeling he stood guard for her. Why else wasn’t he attacking her?
She risked a peek and sure enough, DA faced forward in front of her, growling into the shadows off to the corner of her yard in a spot she couldn’t see without light. That spot caused some concern as it had a walkway that led out to the front of the building.
“Delta Alpha, heel!” came a familiar voice.
Relief rushed through her body like a drug, almost taking her knees out from under her. DA sprinted away, causing her skin to practically jump from her body. She turned to the back door, pushed the hair from her face, and looked at Chris.
DA stood at his side, his doggy body quivering under the sounds of the storm, his face buried in Chris’s hands. “You look like a drowned rat,” he said as a greeting.
She laughed, the sound somewhat hysterical. “How did you get in?”
He gave her a look. “Your front door was unlocked. And it was a good damn thing considering what I just walked in on.”
Hmmm, he didn’t sound happy, but still… “The front door was locked.”
He lifted a brow. “Uh, sweetheart, I’m here, aren’t I? It wasn’t.”
She frowned. “It had to be locked. I remember…” Did she? Did she lock the front door?
“Red, the front door was unlocked. Think we can move past that now. How about you get inside? It’s raining.”
She shot him a look in return. One that told him he was Captain Obvious as she moved to the back door. Once inside, she grabbed towels from the spare rack and tossed him a couple to dry off DA. He did so with quick hands, his movements somewhat aggravated.
Once complete, he tossed the towels in the standing white hamper next to the rack then turned his attention to her. His mouth thinned. “Now, you wanna tell me why this is the second time I’ve walked in on DA about to rip your head off?”
She settled her hands on her hips, not liking his tone. “Um, first off”—he winced, as he should seeing as when a woman started her response with a list, you knew she was pissed. “Chris, why don’t you take a moment to listen to the storm? The thunder scared him. Second, he wasn’t about to rip my head off, he was growling at something in the yard. If you paused and paid attention to where he was, he had been standing in front of me, guarding”—she pointed to her chest—“me.”
He tossed his hands out. “Why do you think I’m here? I had a feeling something like that would happen. What I want to know is what the hell do you think you were doing engaging with him when he was like that?”
She tossed a wet towel in the hamper and grabbed another, wrapping her hair with it. “It’s my job.”
“He’s a military working dog,” he snapped, his tone beyond pissed off.
Well, fine, she could get just as pissed. “I seem to recall that, Christopher.”
He sucked in a breath. “By God, woman, if I didn’t have the sense to know I needed to take care of DA right now, I’d put you over my knee.”
