Total Bravery (True Heroes Book 4)

by Piper J. Drake

  Which made it more fun when he took the risk and did it anyway.

  Of course, he had a long history of crossing paths with Murphy’s Law, and apparently, this was his day for it because who would be walking down the street but the very person he was thinking about?

  Sophie Kim was five feet, two inches of nonstop energy, usually. Today, though, her shoulders were slumped and her steps lacked the brisk cadence he’d always associated with her. She was heading out of a small art gallery with a large paper shopping bag, and despite the difference in her body language, she was still alert. The woman had expansive peripheral vision and excellent spacial awareness.

  Which meant she spotted him and changed course to head in his direction immediately.

  Forte swallowed hard.

  She must’ve come directly from work because under her very sleek black trench coat, she wore a matching pencil skirt. Three-inch red heels popped in contrast to the severe black of the rest of her outfit. Which did all sorts of things to him. Naughty things.

  The kind of things that were so good, they were really bad. Especially when a woman was off-limits.

  “Hey! Is that the new guy?” Sophie slowed her approach, keeping her gaze locked on Forte’s face.

  She’d been around tiny dogs all her life, but she’d spent enough time at Hope’s Crossing Kennels over the past couple of years to have learned how to meet the much bigger dogs in Forte’s care. Training working dogs was his thing. Or in Haydn’s case, retraining.

  Always a work in progress.

  Sophie had been there when he’d come back from active duty, too battle weary to continue deploying. She’d helped him with the accounting when he’d established Hope’s Crossing Kennels and had generally integrated herself into the private world he’d created for himself, Rojas, and Cruz while they all rebuilt lives for themselves.

  Some people might’ve assumed he’d spent a lot of years running from New Hope between high school and now. He’d been away a long time, explored a lot of different places around the world. But there’d been no question about where he’d end up between deployments. He always came right back. And her friendship, her smile, had always been waiting for him.

  Sophie’s bright smile faded as she waited for him to answer. She always sensed when he got too caught up inside his own head.

  “Yeah.” Forte came to a halt and murmured the command for Haydn to sit.

  Instant obedience. Despite his injury, surgery, and current need for recovery, the dog was as sharp as he’d been on active duty. The mind was eager, ready to work. The body, not so much.

  Sophie’s smile renewed, the brilliant expression stopping his heart, the way it had every time he’d seen her since they’d first met way back in high school. She came to a stop in front of them, barely within arm’s reach. “He must be doing well if you’ve got him out here for some fieldwork.”

  Haydn remained at ease, unconcerned with her proximity, as Forte and Sophie stood there. Curious, even, if Forte was any judge of body language. And he was. For dogs, at least.

  He shrugged. “Easy going with Haydn. He needs a lot of light walking, over different kinds of surfaces, to get a feel for his prosthetic. We’re not out for too long. I don’t want to tire him out or put too much strain on his legs.”

  Sophie nodded in understanding. “Glad to meet him, though. I thought I was going to have to wait until I stopped by this weekend.”

  While they spoke, Haydn watched them both. Then he stretched his neck and sniffed the back of Sophie’s hand, which she’d been holding conveniently within reach.

  Introductions were simple with dogs. Stay relaxed, let the dog know the approaching person wasn’t a threat via body language, and give the dog time to investigate on his own. Sophie’s body language was naturally open and non-threatening. She had learned from Forte not to look his dogs in the eyes. The dogs he trained tended to be dominant and aggressive, and they required a more careful approach than the average pet on the street.

  Usually, he preferred if a person asked to be introduced, but this was Sophie. If she’d approached anyone else, she’d have requested permission to say hi to the dog. But this was him and her. Between the two of them, everything was an exception. She spoke to him and took it on faith that he’d tell her if she needed to keep her distance. But then again, he also wouldn’t bring a dog out in public that wasn’t ready to be socialized.

  It showed how well she’d come to know the way he worked in the past few years. He’d changed with every deployment. It happened. And she’d adjusted and accepted those changes in him without a word when he came back. She was the steadfast forever friend.

  He’d never told her why he’d left in the first place or why he’d come back. She was so good at just accepting him that she might never know. And he was a coward for not telling her.

  “What’s your plan for him?” Sophie glanced down at the dog, now that he’d sniffed her hand. “Haydn, right?”

  Forte gave her a slight nod, and she ruffled the fur around Haydn’s ears. The big dog’s eyes rolled up, and he leaned his head into her hand for more enthusiastic scratches.

  Definitely no problems socializing. Then again, in Sophie’s hands, most males turned to Silly Putty.

  Or…he needed to stop thinking about what could happen to him in Sophie’s hands.

  “Yeah.” Forte cleared his throat. “He’s got a couple of weeks of physical therapy first. Then we need to coordinate with the Air Force on his adoption.”

  “Ah.” Understanding in one syllable. She had the kind of caring heart to fill in the gaps when something went unsaid. “His handler didn’t make it?”

  Part of why Sophie was one of the only people Forte felt easy around was because she got it. Only needed to explain once. And she listened the first time. Sometimes no explanation was required at all.

  Forte shook his head. “Same IED that injured Haydn took out his handler. The deceased’s family has been contacted, and they’ll have first choice to adopt. We haven’t heard back yet on their decision, but those kinds of things can take some time coming through the communication channels.”

  Sophie nodded and looked down at Haydn. “We’ll give you time to figure things out while all the paperwork goes through, huh? It’s nice to meet you, Haydn.”

  The black GSD leaned into her, his tongue lolling out in response to the attention and the use of his name. Haydn knew when someone was talking to him and, apparently, he liked Sophie’s voice.

  Every bond between working dog and handler was unique. Haydn was dealing with the loss of his handler in his own way, mostly by being generally friendly with the trainers and those to whom he was introduced. But there was friendly and there was truly affectionate. A deeper level of affection was something Haydn seemed to be holding in reserve. This physical training period would give the dog the time he needed to be ready to bond with someone again, too.

  If he decided to. It was always the dog’s choice.

  “Where’s your car?” Forte was not going to stand around long enough to be jealous of a dog. Not at all. “We’ll walk you.”

  “Right across the street.” Sophie jerked her head in the direction of a small parking lot.

  They headed over, Sophie falling into step next to Forte. She didn’t try to take his hand or tuck her own around his arm. They weren’t like that. Besides, she knew he didn’t like to be all wound up with a person when walking out in the open. It was another way her understanding of him manifested. It was a regular reassurance. A comfort.

  Better than free cupcakes.

  “Has Haydn met Atlas?” Sophie asked casually.

  The first rehabilitation case at Hope’s Crossing Kennels had been Atlas, a dog suffering from PTSD after his handler had died. One of Forte’s trainers and close friends, David Cruz, had worked with Atlas and still did now that the dog had become a permanent part of the kennels. But Atlas’s challenges had been psychological. With the help of Lyn Jones’s approach to working with do
gs, Cruz had successfully brought Atlas back up to speed.

  “Briefly.” He glanced at Sophie and caught her making a face. “The dogs don’t need group therapy sessions.”

  The psychology aspect of the rehabilitation was something Forte was willing to entertain only so far. Lyn got results with her work, yes, but he was not going to go all the way into the deep end with the dog whisperer approach.

  He made a stupid face right back at Sophie. “You do not need to come over and sit Atlas and Haydn down to compare notes on what they’ve been through. Souze doesn’t need counseling, either.”

  Souze was Rojas’s partner, a former guard dog turned service dog helping Rojas face the challenges of reintegrating into civilian life.

  Sophie was silent a moment, a sure sign his guess at her thought process was on target. “Well, they do need to play with each other sometimes, right?”

  “Dogs are social creatures, and, yeah, some playtime is good if they can socialize with other dogs that way.” He’d give her that. Forte made sure the dogs trained at Hope’s Crossing Kennels could socialize well with both human handlers and other working dogs. “Haydn’s the second military working dog to come to us for help after active duty, but his challenges are mostly physical. We have to watch him carefully with the prosthetic on until we all know what he can do with it, including him. But, yeah, he’s gone out with Atlas and Souze on a couple of group walks without the prosthetic.”

  Honestly, Haydn was pretty spry even without the prosthetic. The dog just had better mobility with it.

  “Okay.” Sophie let it go. “I just think you and your working dogs could use a little more playtime in your lives. Like a doggie field day or something.”

  He snorted.

  Sophie’s car was a sensible sedan, the sort to blend into a lot of other normal, everyday cars. What made it easy to spot was the pile of cute stuffed animals across the back. Not just any stuffed animals—a gathering of cute Japanese and Korean plush characters from her favorite Asian cartoons.

  As they approached, Sophie juggled her shopping bag to pull her keys out of her purse and triggered the trunk.

  “Need help?” Forte came up alongside the car, scanning the area around the parking lot out of habit.

  “No worries.” Sophie lifted the trunk door and carefully placed her shopping bag inside the deep space, leaning in to move things around to where she wanted. “I need to make sure this is arranged so stuff doesn’t shift. It’s delicate!”

  He was not going to admit to anyone, ever, how much he was willing to stretch his neck to catch sight of her backside while she was leaning over.

  Haydn sniffed the side of the car. The big dog was very engaged, his relaxed attitude changing over to a sharper set of movements. Forte tore his attention from Sophie. Actually, the black dog was very interested in the car.

  Forte tuned into the dog’s body language, changing his own to match. He leaned forward a fraction, his balance over the balls of his feet. He kept his limbs loose, ready to respond to the unexpected. It didn’t matter that they were in a sleepy town on the edge of a river in the middle of a peaceful country. It didn’t matter that there shouldn’t be any real danger there.

  Haydn had detected something out of place. Something wrong. Forte’s stomach tightened into a hard knot. Nothing wrong should be anywhere near his Sophie.

  His attention centered on the sniffing dog. Whatever Haydn did next, Forte would act accordingly.

  Haydn deliberately sat and looked up at Forte. It was a clear signal. One Haydn had been specifically trained to give as a military explosives-detection dog.

  Shit.

  “Sophie. Step away from your car.” He’d explain later. Be afraid later. Rage. Worry.

  Later.

  She popped up from the trunk. “Huh?”

  “Do it.”

  They had to move now.

  Sophie always listened to him, Rojas, or Cruz when they were urgent. She complied, thank god. He gave Haydn a terse command and circled around to grab Sophie and get more distance. He steered her across the parking lot toward a big Dumpster. It’d serve as good cover. Then he reached for his smartphone.

  They got a couple of yards away, and Sophie craned her neck to look back at her car, even as she kept moving with him. She always did as he asked immediately, but she had a brain, and she insisted on explanations after she complied. “What—?”

  Behind them, the trunk hatch came down with a solid thunk.

  Forte let out a curse and grabbed her, pulling them down to the ground and rolling for the cover of other cars as an explosion lifted the entire driver’s side of her car.

  * * *

  Sophie screamed. Maybe. She was pretty sure she did, but wrapped in Brandon’s arms and smooshed up against his chest, she wasn’t sure if she’d gotten it out or if it’d only been in her head.

  The explosion was crazy loud. The concussive force of it slammed into her and Brandon despite the shelter of the cars and the Dumpster he’d pulled them behind.

  He covered most of her, one of his hands tucking her head protectively into his chest. His other arm was around her waist. They were horizontal.

  Not the way she’d daydreamed this would happen.

  After a long moment, all she could hear was the ringing in her ears. Her heart thundered in her chest. And she thought, maybe, Brandon’s lips were pressed against her temple.

  Or was it her imagination?

  His weight lifted off her, and his hands started to roam over her, gentle but with purpose. Looking for injuries.

  His voice started to penetrate the roaring sound filling her head. The words slowly started to make sense. “Are you hurt?”

  “Haydn?” She sounded funny in her own mind, but Brandon met her gaze for a moment and jerked his chin to one side.

  “Don’t turn to look until I check to see if you hurt your neck or head.” His admonishment came through sharp. It was the way he talked when he was worried. People thought it was meanness, but it wasn’t. He was frightened. For her. “Haydn’s right here. He’s fine; a little shaken up by the blast, but his training will help him keep his shit together. He’s fine.”

  As Brandon continued, a cold nose touched her cheek. Big ears came into view, and warm, not-so-sweet breath huffed across her face.

  “I’m glad you’re okay,” she whispered. It was for both Brandon and the dog.

  A brief whine answered her. Then a large, furry body lay down next to her, just barely touching her shoulder and side. A fine tremor passed through the big dog and then he pressed closer to her.

  “He’s going to stay here with you.” Brandon rose. “Can you lay here until the ambulance comes, Sophie? Please? He’ll be calmer if he has you to watch over.”

  Then she realized things hurt. Her right shoulder, her hip. Pain shot from her right ankle. Maybe the only thing that didn’t hurt was her head. Brandon wasn’t just worried about Haydn.

  “Is it bad?” She stared up at Brandon as he lifted his smartphone to his ear. Sirens were already approaching.

  Brandon held out his hand. “Give us space, please. Stay off the blacktop!”

  People must have been gathering. He was stepping out to take command of the situation. He was walking away from her. Again.

  “Don’t leave me,” she whispered. She always said it quietly. Because she didn’t want him to actually hear her.

  A soft woof answered her instead. Careful not to turn her head, because Brandon had asked her not to, she looked as far to her side as she could. There was Haydn lying next to her. His eyes were dark, almost as black as his fur. And his gaze was steady on hers. Calming. He wasn’t going to leave her.

  “Okay, Haydn,” she whispered to her new friend. “We’ll wait right here for him.”

  It was what she’d always done. And this time, she had company.

  About the Author

  Piper J. Drake is an author of bestselling romantic suspense and edgy contemporary romance, a frequent flyer, an
d day job road warrior. She is often distracted by dogs, cupcakes, and random shenanigans.

  Play Find the Piper online:

  PiperJDrake.com

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