by T. J. Kline
“Look, Dylan, I think you need to stay here.”
“I thought we’d already established that.” Dylan noticed that Roscoe had moved into a sitting position, his eyes focused on his face. He took a deep breath and reached a hand out to the dog’s head, patting him absently. “After you left, Julia and I talked a bit.”
“Good. But I think this needs to be more than that.” He shifted nervously, shaking the keys he still held in his hand. “I rented a room in town.”
Dylan’s hand stilled on Roscoe’s head. “What?” The thought of his brother staying a few miles up the road shouldn’t have made him as anxious as it did. They’d lived apart for years, but Dylan knew he’d come to rely on his brother too much since he’d been home. His reaction proved it. “I thought this was going to be a vacation for you. What about all that ‘staring at a pretty face’ crap?”
“Keep your voice down.” He looked toward the hallway. “This isn’t a vacation, and you know it. You need time to learn to work with this dog without me around. I’ll be here when Julia says I need to be, but other than that . . . ” Roscoe jumped onto the couch and laid his head in Dylan’s lap, nudging his hand again. “You need to get back on your own two feet, and I’ve been keeping you from doing that.”
“So, you’re turning your back on me the way Dad did?” Dylan wasn’t sure why his mouth kept going. He knew it wasn’t how his brother felt. Gage wouldn’t abandon him, but it was as if the anger had a voice of its own. “You’re going to drop me off here and just leave?”
Dylan felt the rage bubbling up again. He was so tired of being angry and resentful, which only made the guilt worse. But, so far, nothing had been able to still the anger. He couldn’t control when it rose to the surface, drowning him in waves of fury until it finally receded on its own, usually leaving a mess of hurt behind. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, trying to still the tide that threatened to overtake him. It wasn’t working. He needed to get away—from his brother, this situation, this life that had become a living nightmare.
Roscoe bumped his nose against Dylan’s chin, hard enough to knock his head backward a bit. “What the hell?”
Dylan pushed the dog from his face, but Roscoe wasn’t going to be deterred. He rose to his feet, but the dog just sat up on the couch, pawing at his leg. He looked up at Gage and saw the shock on his face. “What?”
“You were gone, Dylan, the way you get when you fall into an episode. You were pissed and ready to lose it like you do. He pulled you out.” Dylan looked down at Roscoe, who simply cocked his head to one side, staring up at him with those deep brown eyes. “This is the right thing, Dylan. It’s not going to be easy, but it’s right and I think you see it.”
Gage turned and made his way down the hall for his room. Dylan followed with Roscoe right behind him. He watched from the door as his brother stuffed his clothing into his duffel and went into the bathroom to retrieve his toiletries.
“Are you even going to let Julia know you’re leaving?” He knew he sounded slightly panicked, but his brother had become something of a lifeline for him over the past year. His was the first face Dylan saw after coming out of his induced coma from the gunshot wound to his head, and he was the only reliable reality in his life since.
“You can tell her in the morning. I’m staying at the Crazy 8 Motel about five miles up the highway. You both have my cell.” He shot Dylan an impish grin. “Though if I was stuck in this house with her alone, I wouldn’t bother calling you.”
“Shut up.” Dylan shoved his hands into his pockets.
Gage laughed as he swung his duffel over his shoulder and headed for his car. “I’ll come by tomorrow and see how you’re doing. This is going to work, Dylan. I know it is.”
Dylan stood on the porch with Roscoe at his side as he watched his brother drive away. It was the first time in a year he’d been alone. The freedom was exciting. More than that, it was terrifying. But Dylan Granger had never been a man to give in to terror. He’d embraced it all his life. He looked down at the dog, who met his gaze, his tongue lolling out to the side.
“Okay, Roscoe, so what comes next? Because now we’re on the front lines with only each other for backup.”
JULIA ROSE THE next morning to a quiet house. Dylan’s door was shut and Gage’s room was empty. Not just unslept in but void of all his clothing, and it worried her. She’d seen how troubled Dylan had been after the fight with his brother. Something like this could set him back, which would make training nearly impossible.
Tango padded over the hardwood floors behind her, looking for his breakfast. She poured his food into his bowl and refilled the water dish before slipping her phone into her pocket, heading to feed the other dogs. She needed to do some basic obedience training with the new dogs before she and Dylan started working today. As she opened the door to the kitchen, her phone buzzed with a notification. She withdrew it from her pocket, assuming it was her sister chastising her about being late for breakfast, and looked at the message on the screen. Her heart dropped into her belly and a cold dread slid down her spine when she saw the text.
Watching you, my love. Is he your new boyfriend? Not for long.
Julia looked behind her, as if the text would conjure Evan. It had been so long since she’d last heard from him that she’d assumed he’d given up on tormenting her. Apparently, he’d only been biding his time. It didn’t seem as if the restraining order deterred him at all. She needed to figure out her next move. Calling the police wouldn’t do much good unless he actually threatened her or had been seen too close by. Since he hadn’t, there was no violation of the court order. Maybe Evan was just trying to get under her skin again. If so, it had worked. Telling her brother would simply make him overreact and he’d try to put her into lockdown. She needed to warn Dylan and Gage, at least make them aware of the situation, but she worried what it might do for Dylan’s frame of mind. She had to let Dylan know about her ex, but for today, as he started his training, maybe silence was the best option.
Her heart began to slow its racing as she dished up breakfast for the dogs, praying she was making the right call. Evan hadn’t been like this when he’d first come to stay at the ranch. They had trained Misty not only to recognize the signs before his blood sugar dropped, but also to retrieve his medications. Evan had needed her and, she found, it felt good to be needed. She hadn’t planned it, but she couldn’t help falling for him. When the end of his time at her facility became imminent, he changed overnight. He started pressuring Julia to let him stay. Misty began to shy away from him, refusing to work with him and positioning herself between him and Julia more often. Julia shook her head, not wanting to think about the final day he’d been on the ranch or what had happened to Misty.
She pushed back the painful memories and took a deep breath. She’d moved beyond what happened. The past was behind her, and she would make sure Evan stayed there as well. She would never trust anyone over her dogs again.
DYLAN ROLLED OVER and jumped backward as his hand was met with soft fur instead of sheets. “Damn it, Roscoe. You’re not supposed to be on the bed.”
The dog didn’t look even slightly apologetic as he stood and licked the side of Dylan’s face before jumping to the floor. Dylan swiped his hand over his face, the rasp of his beard loud in the silence.
“Ugh! That was disgusting. Don’t do that again!” He must be losing his mind if he was talking to this dog as if he could understand him. But he had to wonder when Roscoe dropped his head to his paws and looked up at him sheepishly.
He pulled a T-shirt over his head and slid on the same jeans he’d tossed at the foot of the bed last night after Gage left. What should have been a sleepless night filled with nightmares had oddly enough been incredibly restful. He glanced at the dog, who noticed and wagged his tail enthusiastically. Hell, if letting the dog sleep on the bed meant a dreamless night, he’d tuck the damn animal under the covers.
He heard the sound of tires on the gravel driveway and wal
ked to the front porch, assuming Gage was back for breakfast. He didn’t see Julia, but from the barking he could hear in the kennel, she must be out with the dogs. He saw a truck moving slowly down the driveway. Seeing it wasn’t Gage, he wondered if he shouldn’t go find Julia and let her know she had company, but the driver waved at him through the lowered window and parked in the circular driveway.
“Hey, is Julia still feeding?”
Dylan arched a brow and crossed his arms, waiting at the top of the porch as the driver climbed out of the truck and approached, holding a hand out. “Hey, how ya doing? I’m Evan, a friend of Julia’s.”
The small hairs on the back of Dylan’s neck rose, something that hadn’t happened since returning home. His instincts were on high alert, but he had no reason for them to be going haywire. Years of experience had taught him to listen to his intuition, but the past twelve months had showed him he couldn’t trust his mind’s version of reality any longer.
“You always show up before breakfast?” He leaned against one of the posts and looked down at the man in front of him. He looked like a lawyer in his slacks and polo shirt. Everything about the man looked average, from his height and wiry build to his mousy brown curls and brown eyes.
“I was just in the neighborhood and decided to surprise her. It’s been a while since I talked to her.” He took a step closer, and Roscoe let a low growl slip from his throat. Evan immediately backed up a step, his eyes flicking toward Roscoe nervously. “Nice dog. Is it one of Julia’s?”
“He’s mine.” Dylan glanced at Roscoe, who had moved to stand at his side, the hair on the scruff of his neck rising as he continued to growl quietly. He pushed himself away from the post. “Julia is busy right now, but I can tell her you came by.”
The stranger narrowed his eyes, and Dylan recognized the madness in them. He’d seen it in his years as a medic. It was the same look he’d seen during a mission where they’d been clearing a town and had been approached by a suicide bomber. That man had the same glazed look of delirium Dylan saw in Evan’s eyes. He moved down the steps quickly, taking advantage of Evan’s surprise to put him into a headlock. He pressed him against the truck, patting down the front of his shirt for a weapon. A haze of dust clouded his vision as he lost himself in memories.
“Hey, are you nuts? Let go of me!” Evan struggled against him, but he was no match for Dylan’s strength or skill. Roscoe began barking, trying to force his way between the two men.
Confusion settled in Dylan’s gut. This man was unarmed and harmless. What was wrong with him?
Dylan pushed himself away, and Roscoe immediately backed off but remained watchful, standing in front of Dylan and watching the stranger.
“You’re insane. Just tell her I’ll come by another time.” Evan jumped into his truck, but Dylan saw the man’s hands shaking as he started the vehicle. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer.” He gunned the truck and headed down the driveway, spewing gravel behind him as he went.
“Crap.” Dylan ran his hands over his head. What the hell was he doing? He couldn’t cause this kind of trouble for Julia. He looked down at the dog. “I thought you were supposed to stop this from happening,” he accused, realizing how ridiculous it sounded for him to blame the dog.
How in the world was he going to explain to Julia what he’d just done?
JULIA HEADED BACK to the house, feeling more optimistic about her decision to keep quiet about Evan today. He hadn’t texted her again, so he was probably just trying to scare her a bit. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of letting him know she’d altered any part of her life for him. Tango ran ahead and leapt onto the patio, wagging his tail furiously.
She followed him to find Dylan sitting on the porch swing with Roscoe at his feet. “Good morning.” Tango nosed the other dog, ready to play.
He held a cup of coffee out to her. “Morning. I wasn’t sure how you took your coffee, but I found cream in the refrigerator so I made an assumption.”
“Good guess.” She took the steaming mug and leaned against the post, watching him. “Where’s Gage? All of his things were gone this morning. Is everything all right?”
“He’s decided to stay in town.”
“Did I . . . I mean, I hope that I—”
Dylan shook his head. “It wasn’t you. It was me. He thinks that I’ll do better without him here.”
She could see the hesitation in his eyes. “But you disagree?”
“Not really. He’s probably right. He usually is.” He sipped his coffee. “It just feels strange.” He seemed indecisive and, from what little she knew about him, it was out of character. He might be a man of few words, but those words were deliberate. Finally, he sighed. “Who’s Evan?”
The breath was sucked from her lungs, and she felt her knees weaken. Dylan jumped from the swing, his coffee mug falling to the ground and spilling liquid on the porch as he reached out to catch her.
“Whoa, take it easy, there.” He wound one arm under hers and another around her waist, lifting her easily and setting her on the swing. “What was that?”
She ran shaky fingers at the edge of her bangs and brushed them away from her eyes. “I . . . I guess I got light-headed.”
He arched a brow and she knew he didn’t believe her. “Julia, just sit for a minute.”
“I’m fine. How . . . ” She gave him a sideways glance. “How do you know about Evan?”
“Look up and follow my finger.” He bent over and looked into her eyes, his gaze straying over the scar at her temple. He tipped her chin up with a finger, assessing her. “He was here this morning, and I’m afraid I may have caused you some trouble.” He squatted down at her knees and reached for her wrist, his fingers checking her pulse.
Julia felt her skin ignite wherever his hands touched. Shivers of heat traveled over her flesh, warming her. She was certain he would think she was ill because her heart felt as if it was going to race right out of her chest. His thumb brushed her wrist, and she found herself wanting to lean into him, to lay her head against his massive chest and just shut out the world for a moment.
“I think you’re going to live.” Dylan’s voice was husky as he looked at her, his deep chocolate eyes even darker than usual. “But you still look pale. Does this have anything to do with this Evan guy?”
She moved her hand away from his fingers. Her decision to keep quiet didn’t matter now, especially if Evan had been audacious enough to ignore the court order and show up on her doorstep. “He isn’t supposed to be here. I have a restraining order against him.” She tipped her head to the side and brushed her hair back from her face. “You said you caused trouble? What happened?”
Dylan slapped his hands against his thighs and stood up. “I might have put him into a headlock.” She looked up at him in awe. “And slammed him into his truck. He said something about an attorney.” Her mouth fell open as he wiped a hand over his mouth. “I don’t know what happened. I just . . . I snapped.”
“What about Roscoe? He’s supposed to . . . ” She couldn’t blame the dog. He and Dylan had only begun bonding and, until then, he couldn’t be expected to react to Dylan’s triggers as he eventually would. “Are you okay?”
“Me?” A snort of laughter burst from him. “I tell you this guy is threatening to sue you because I couldn’t control my temper, and you want to know if I’m okay?”
“Evan Reece won’t do anything.” She prayed she was right, but Evan knew what he was doing. She couldn’t prove he’d been there. “He just got out of jail, and showing up here is a violation of his probation. He’s not going to say a word to anyone.” She was surprised her voice remained calm, but, looking at her hands, it was apparent she couldn’t keep the tremors of fear from rippling through her body. She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them in an attempt to hide the reaction from Dylan. “I’m sorry. I should have told you about him, but I haven’t heard from him since he went to jail. Until today.”
“Who is this
guy?”
She sighed, wondering how much she should tell him. She didn’t want to risk his welfare and recovery. She hadn’t expected Evan to ever show up again. She rested her chin on her knees and considered telling him it was best if he left, but even the thought flooded her with disappointment she didn’t want to acknowledge.
“He was a client who stayed here while we trained a dog for him. When he was supposed to leave, he started acting strangely.” She tried to stop the shiver of fear that crept over her, and she wanted to hide from what had happened. It might have been four years ago, but retelling it brought it back as if it was yesterday. “His dog, Misty, started sticking closer to me, trying to protect me, ignoring her training. I think she was trying to tell me something. When I insisted he leave, he attacked me.”
“Attacked? He hurt you?” She saw the fury rise in his eyes.
Tango positioned himself between her and Dylan, sitting up and putting his head on her arm as if reminding her of his comforting presence. “It wasn’t long after I was out of the hospital that I got Tango.”
Dylan took a deep breath, squatted down in front of her again, and reached for her hands. His fingers twined with hers. His hands were warm and gentle, but she felt a current of warmth flood through her palms and up her arms. She tried to focus on anything other than the heat spreading through her limbs.
“A client?”
She looked away, unwilling to admit the feelings she’d had for Evan. It had been a whirlwind romance, and she’d believed everything he told her about himself. It wasn’t until he started pressuring her, saying strange things about always being with her, of owning her, that she started to question the relationship. When she woke and found him staring at her while she slept, she should have listened to the alarm in her head warning her that love wasn’t supposed to be obsessive like this. How could she explain away her naiveté? Dylan didn’t press her for more.
