Vince spent the morning building a transport crate for the carousel dog. The truck was due late that afternoon to make the pick-up to take it to Seattle for Friday’s fundraiser. He was pleased with the way the Justice replica turned out and hoped it would be well-received at the auction.

Almost as amazing as making love to Lulah the previous night was the fact that he slept the night with her without the intrusion of nightmares.

Fucking incredible, and unintentional because he could never have consciously risked harming her again. After a long shower, they’d returned to her bed and as he held her, intending only to stay until she slipped into sleep, he had fallen asleep too.

Back in bed, Lulah rolled him to his stomach, straddled him, vowing to finish that massage she’d started all those weeks ago. With a gentle inquiry she asked about his scars, his tattoos, allowing him to tell bits of each story without interruption or asking for more than he was capable of sharing. The compass tattoo on the back of his shoulder she ignored until last, and he’d tensed when he knew the question would be coming as she traced it with one fingertip, drawing over each point and the letters of each associated name. She kissed each one, long, drawn-out kisses, before lying full-length over his body, her cheek resting on the tattoo.

The few words he’d managed about his friends, memorialized on his back, were enough for her and they’d stayed that way, Lulah draped over him, protecting him, breathing with him, until at some stage he’d rolled her to her side, holding her close against his stomach, soothing her to sleep.

He’d woken a little after five a.m. Lulah tucked tightly to him, her hand wrapped around his wrist in a manner that tugged at his heart. When he stirred, Lulah woke, too, so they spent the next hour exploring each other’s bodies. He’d started at her feet, kissing, touching, small bites and smaller caresses, never staying in one place too long so that new bundles of nerves were teased awake and abandoned before they became accustomed to his touch. Too soon, the dogs butted in with their demands to go outside.

They’d made breakfast together, bumping into each other as they worked within the small kitchen space, shared spontaneous touches that were so easy they required no thought or apology. He’d sat across from Lulah at breakfast and honestly, he hadn’t wanted to move. Hadn’t wanted Lulah to move, either. Is this what it could be like for them? This quiet harmony and unbelievably hot sex?

* * *

“What do you mean ‘he’s gone’?”

“There.” Lulah pushed the scrap of paper across the table to Adam.

“Break. His safeword.” He handed it back to Lulah. “Any ideas?”

“Nope.” Lulah folded the note, over and over until it became a tiny scrap, and stuffed it in her pocket. She shrugged. “Just that one word, you know: all big shouty caps, jammed under a rock at my door. No explanation.” She exhaled. “Jesus, I do deserve an explanation, don’t I?”

“Depends on the terms of the safeword.”

“The terms are: no explanation required. Damn safeword. Something bad’s happened, Adam, I know it. On Wednesday we had this bit of a drama at dog training because Taryn, his ex-wife, turned up for class. We worked through that and everything was good.” Her cheeks heated when she recalled exactly how good it was. “He stayed over.”

“Big relationship shift, huh? Was he okay this morning?”

“Oh, yeah, he was better than okay this morning.” Lulah managed a smile. “But seriously, he wasn’t running scared, or anything. A little bit nervous about the speech tonight but certainly not saying he didn’t want to do it. In fact, quite the opposite. No matter how much it bothered him to stand up in a crowded place, he was determined to make the speech and help the people understand the program.”

“Is there anything else going on in his life right now?”

“Apart from making some progress within himself, nothing. Work’s coming in, and for his daily stuff he’s found Calliope invaluable. Counseling is positive, and we were, you know—”

Adam raised his hand. “Spare the details.”

“I honestly thought we’d reached a point where he wouldn’t need a break. If anything cropped up, I presumed he would come to me and we could work through it. When I left this morning, we were all sweet for today. We’d arranged to meet at the cabin at lunchtime, have a bite to eat, and take a leisurely drive up to Seattle. I can’t believe he’s taken off. I’m so…” What was she? Angry, frustrated, and let down. So very let down.

“Come here.”

She closed her eyes as Adam wrapped her in a hug. The urge to bury her face in his chest and let the floodgates open tempted her, encouraging her to give in this once, but she would conquer it. She always had.

“Let it go, Lulah.”

She shook her head. “Can’t,” she mumbled into his shirt, drew a deep breath and pushed off him. “This is what it’s like, isn’t it, for all the partners and parents of people with PTSD out there? They live day-to-day with this unpredictability. I can’t do that, Adam. I grew up like this and coming back here today, expecting Vince to be here—because, I’m sorry, but, it’s a really fucking important event—and instead he’s vanished. Well, it’s a timely reminder before I fell too hard.”

“So I guess you’ve tried his phone, looked for clues, all that sort of stuff.”

“Yup. The phone’s turned off, or out of juice. His pickup’s gone. At least he has Calliope with him.” She faced Adam. “I guess we should go. Thanks for fitting me in with you guys, I don’t feel like driving right now.”

Adam did some shuffling, arranging for Dave and Cody to travel to Seattle with Mike, leaving room in the car for her, with him and Marlo. “Get yourself into the car and I’ll bring your bag.”

They drove in silence for a short while before Lulah started to realize the impact of Vince’s vanishing act. “Guys, this Vince thing isn’t good. For a start, how is it going to be for Dave and Cody? It may knock their confidence because it will appear to them that even though Vince has practiced with Calliope for much longer than they have, having a service dog hasn’t improved his life. If they think Vince has lost it and Calliope couldn’t help, they’re not going to be too confident around their own dogs.”

“Mike’s going to talk to them and explain that something major has happened to Vince. The only other thing we can do is promise them we’ll let them know as much as possible about what went on, so that they can see it is an unusual set of circumstances.”

“Okay, so what do we do about tonight? Vince is in the program for giving a speech and for the Justice model. When people find out the star of the show has disappeared, they’re hardly likely to support a cause that is failing in its first outing.”

“Is there some way we can skirt around it?” Marlo asked.

“No.” Adam replied. “No denying it. If the real story emerges we’ve lost credibility forever. If we’re honest about it we can move on from there.”

They turned onto I-5, now in a convoy with Mike.

Lulah’s anger was entirely misplaced. Whatever had happened to Vince, he hadn’t wandered off to be annoying or because he hadn’t given it much thought. Even though he must have had a really good reason, accepting it was difficult.

Her disappointment grew because she thought they’d made so much headway and even more, she thought she’d made a difference in his life, making it better for him. Somewhere along the way, when she wasn’t watching, she’d slipped into rescuer mode. Time to pull back.

Lulah watched the countryside blur past the window. Her mouth was dry and the onset of a rare headache threatened. That was when she had the idea. “I’ll make Vince’s speech.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I can do it. I’ve listened to it enough I almost know it by heart. Of course, they were Vince’s words and they needed to come from him but I think I can use the essence of what he wanted to say, and turn it a bit, so that it explains why Vince isn’t there.”

“Have you done any public speaking?” Adam asked.

“Absolutely…”

“Great.”

“Absolutely none, to be honest. But I can do it for the program. We can’t fail at this point.”

“If you’re sure, otherwise I can fill in with some stuff. But really, it would be way better to have something from you. Let’s go straight to the hotel and you can practice what you want to say.”

“Right now I want to kill Vince so I’ll use the rest of the drive demolishing that feeling so that I can get on with saying nice things.”

The place was crowded. Vince’s banner behind the stage was spectacular, drawing again from Lulah that bewildering mix of anger at him and concern for his state of mind. The banner image of a dog and a man—Vince and Calliope loosely disguised—sharing a private connection would stir the emotions of the most hard-hearted among the guests. It hung as a testament to both Vince’s talent and his early training in commercial graphic art.

Following Adam and Marlo through the maze of tables and the rumble of voices, she couldn’t help scanning the room, hoping that maybe Vince had made it here and wasn’t going to let her down after all. She could see Mike already seated at the main table where they were headed and he stood to greet her, coming around the table to take her elbow and show her to her seat.

“You look stunning.”

Maybe. She had to agree that the effect of the dress surprised her, but the effort had been for one person who hadn’t been able to return the favor. This kind of thinking was no good for her. It was disappointment, hurt, and her own fault for going against instincts.

She sat and thanked Mike for the compliment. A grand occasion such as this, was foreign territory for her, so she’d make sure to enjoy herself. Scanning the room with a new attitude, she noted people from CRAR, and their president, Mae, who was Marlo’s guardian through her teenage years.

The guests who filled the room seemed to be a mix of minor celebrities and the screamingly rich, sometimes both. At Dog Haven Sanctuary they never had much contact with the money side of CRAR, who funded them along with a string of other sanctuaries throughout the country.

Staying away from the financial side suited Lulah because these types of people brought her insecurities to the surface and now, thanks to Vince’s no-show, she was about to make a speech to them.

She leaned across the table. “Marlo, I think I’m going to be sick. How many people are here? And they all look awesome and fabulous, and any moment now I’m going to collapse to the floor and start flapping about because I’m totally a fish out of water.”

“Lulah, you look amazing.” She turned. “Tell her, Mike.”

“I’ve told her once, but I’m happy to keep at it.”

Marlo nodded at him. “Thank you.” She faced Lulah. “All you have to do is encourage them to part with their money.”

“Now you’re making me sound like a hooker.”

“You’ll charm them. We have faith in you, otherwise we wouldn’t let you do it.”

“Oh, good, so no pressure. I’m not going to be able to eat. Do you know that? And I bet the food will be wonderful. Why couldn’t they have the speeches and auction first, dinner after?”

“You’ll eat, you’ve never been known not to.”

“I’ll probably drink too much, and face-plant as I negotiate the steps to the stage in these ridiculous heels. My nose will whack the top step and blood will pour down the front of the only decent dress I’ve ever worn. When I finally make it to the podium, I’ll have to make the entire speech with my head tilted back, pinching the bridge of my nose.”

“Perfect. Imagine the sympathy. They’ll be bidding like philanthropic billionaires.”

“Everyone will see up it!”

“What?”

“My nose.”

“No,” Marlo shook her head, “there’ll be too much gore; they won’t be able to see a thing.”

“Not helping. Distract me, Marlo. Where’s Adam?”

“Fussing. Making certain everything is perfect. Schmoozing the pretty people. He’s scarcely been in the country and he appears to know half the people in the room. He’ll know them all by the end of the night.”

“They like his cute accent.”

“Yeah.” Marlo smiled. “So long as that’s all they like.”

Lulah had to ask. She’d gone two hours without asking and she’d messed with her phone so many times it now had a dead battery. “Any news of Vince?”

“You’ll be the first to know when there is.”

She caught herself scanning the ballroom again. Pathetic, but she couldn’t help it. The room had completely filled now and when she checked her watch she saw they were five minutes from dinner being served.

At the next table sat Dave and his wife, with Bravo, Dave’s dog settled quietly at his feet. Cody and his parents were alongside, and his dog Alpha placed two paws up on Cody’s lap. Cody stroked him, mouth tight, gaze flickering about as if he’d rather have his back to the wall with a clear view of the exits. Lulah nudged Mike. “Does Cody need some encouragement?”

Mike stood. “Yeah, he’s wired. I’ll go and have a word.”

The wait staff served dinner by the time Mike returned to the table. After one mouthful of the fish, Lulah discovered her appetite was intact.

“See, I told you your appetite wouldn’t desert you.”

“The butterflies need feeding,” Lulah added between mouthfuls.

“More like the worms,” Marlo suggested.

Everyone laughed. “Oh thanks, that really helped a lot.” Way too soon for Lulah’s comfort, Adam left the table and mounted the stage. When he stood in front of the podium the noise level dropped to a simmer before finally silencing completely.

Lulah leaned over to Marlo. “Adam in jeans and a t-shirt is pretty hot, but put that guy in a suit and he’s devastating. You’d better haul him to the altar quick, because about half the women in the room appear as though they’d happily ditch their husbands for him.”

“He’s not going anywhere. It breaks his heart to even leave me at the table.”

Marlo was right, and despite the fact that she had a speech to deliver in front of a couple of hundred people—an act that made her knees weak in a disturbing way—she couldn’t help wondering how it would feel to be so adored. To have a guy who had your back, cared for you, encouraged you to grow, and looked freaking amazing. She’d enjoyed bits of that for a short while, and she admitted that over the past couple of weeks she’d wanted more.

When Adam finished, Mike went to the stage and explained the training program for the dogs and the type of things the dogs could do to help the veterans. Next, Dave and Cody received their graduation certificates to wild applause, and Lulah decided the crowd seemed warmed up enough. “We could skip my bit,” she whispered to Marlo.

“You’re going to be great. Go on, up you go, you’ll be fantastic, and, Lulah… I love you, brave girl.”

She pushed back her chair and headed for the steps. Her Everest. She paused at the bottom, trying to talk some strength into her numb legs. When she looked up Adam stood to the side of the podium. He gave her a wink and a grin and suddenly it was only him up there she had to reach.

Yeah, she could be brave, for Vince, for the program and all the warriors it would help. The feeling returned to her legs in a rush and she marched up the stairs, surprising herself at the way she managed her heels.

Adam leaned into her when she reached him. “Rocking those heels, Lulah,” he said, not far enough away from the microphone, so that the ripple of laughter told them everyone heard. He bent to give her a quick kiss on the cheek and said quietly in her ear, “It helps if you remember to breathe, and imagine the entire audience is naked. Now, go slay ‘em.”

He stayed with her to adjust the microphone and as he turned to leave she covered the mouthpiece. “I’ll kill you later.”

Beyond her flowed an ocean of bobbing heads. Imagining the audience naked hadn’t worked so she moved to Plan B where she pretended they only understood German, and she spoke English. Here goes, Vince. You owe me.

“BREAK. Just a simple word on a piece of paper, all uppercase, in rude, what some might call ‘shouting’ letters, positioned above a hand-drawn illustration of a heart ripped to shreds.” She paused. Yup, it seemed as though they understood English after all because all eyes were focused on her.

“The note, the message, if that’s what you would call it, was weighted by a rock positioned at the door to my cabin. I found it today when I arrived there to share with Vince, a quick bite of lunch before we drove here to Seattle for this event tonight. That single-word note, the drama of its illustration, might seem melodramatic to some of you but I want to try and help you for a moment to understand the depths of pain and despair our military warriors with PTSD suffer.

“To explain briefly, ‘break’ is a code, a safeword if you like, that Vince uses when he needs to simply, as the word implies, take a break. If his break was a cup of coffee in a quiet corner somewhere, a retreat for an hour of peace, we would get that, wouldn’t we? But it involves removing himself from life until he feels able to manage again. When the war intrudes, pulling him down until he has plumbed that depth of despair, the weight of everything around him means that he is unable to resurface for a single breath to explain what is wrong.

“A year ago he would simply vanish.” She looked around, saw a couple of yes, we know that kind of behavior, too nods in the audience. “As you can imagine the vanishing thing is scary, so now we have that safeword for when life gets too hard, and it removes an element of the anxiety, for those who care about him, when he disappears.

“I’m going to tell you what pretty much amounts to Vince’s story tonight, not because it is unique, but because it is common. His name could easily be replaced by so many other women and men who have served our country. I’m not going to tell you what he experienced, what he saw, the things that damaged him, because he hasn’t shared that story, fully, with me, and in any case, it’s not my story to tell.

“Understand the last thing our vets want to do is burden us with their horror. So they keep it inside, making them feel unworthy for the mantle of a hero that is so often bestowed upon them when they return home. And it festers, eating into the soul, infecting soul wounds, intruding at all the wrong times: the anniversaries, a child’s school sports day, a family day at the fair, summer barbecue with friends. So frustrating for everyone, isn’t it, because these are moments that should be fun, and the warrior can’t hold his shit together and ends up spoiling it for everyone.

“He frightens the kids, disappoints his family, shocks the strangers and reaffirms that he no longer has a place with these people he knows that he loves, when he has such darkness inside. The only thing he wanted to do was protect them and now that he is home, all he does is harm.

“Much and all as we’d like them to, these men and women can’t simply ‘move on’ or ‘pull themselves together’. If it were that simple we know in our hearts, they would have done it. Unfortunately their pain doesn’t work like that. The best they can hope, for is to one day stop reliving their horror and start remembering.”

She paused for breath, looked at the audience and wished she hadn’t, because having that many focused on her was daunting. Nearly there.

“Sadly, for so many of our warriors, the reliving doesn’t end until they commit that final, devastating act; the one the people left behind are quick to label as selfish, yet the warrior thinks of as selfless, because it’s the only way he or she knows how to save the people they love, from the pain they cause.

“Added to whatever burns them up, is the daily fear that someone will tell them to get over it. That next time their adrenaline over amps because somebody in the store drops something on the floor, or a car backfires, or a firework explodes, and they completely overreact—because that adrenaline has to burn off, somehow—never ask them if they’re going to blame the PTSD, again, for their anti-social behavior.

“I guess you’re wondering what the dogs have to do with this. How could a dog possibly help where the fine medical minds, and the researched and trialed pharmaceuticals, still on too many occasions, fail to work? Yet they do help to keep the warrior in the present. And if the warrior remains present, that means he’s not blocking himself off, avoiding being social, self-isolating.”

Except that is precisely what Vince is doing right now.

“The symptoms of Combat PTSD are varied. Nightmares, flashbacks, emotional numbing, hyper-vigilance, increased state of arousal, all the things Adam and Mike have spoken of. I expect you may be skeptical as to how much use a dog can be to a sufferer.

“A dog’s natural instinct, to protect and to serve, makes it an ideal partner for someone with PTSD. The service dog acts both as a buffer, a go-between if you like, between the warrior and the public, blocking unwanted people from intruding on personal space. They can safety-check rooms and buildings before a warrior enters. They do the same in supermarkets and stores by checking aisles. They bring their buddies out of nightmares, interrupt them when they are re-experiencing…all things that build a warrior’s confidence and enable them to engage with their world. In essence, the service dog is the warrior’s new battle buddy, because they’ve always got their back.”

Lulah looked across the room again, gathering strength by the quiet of the audience and the will of Marlo and Adam. Just the call to action left and she was done.

“The last item in the auction catalog is a full-sized carousel dog, made by Vince. It comes with the concept drawings which are as beautiful as the carving itself. The dog is modeled on Justice, a pit bull who is very special to all of us at Dog Haven Sanctuary.”

She had to pause now as her emotion was running like the bulls.

Seconds ago she’d been fine but all she could see now was Vince enjoying one of his rare moments of peace as he carved in her barn.

She looked towards Marlo, searching for that last slice of strength to move her along. And Marlo, no help at all, seemed to swipe at a tear as Adam reached around her shoulder.

Slow breaths…they all speak German.

She smiled, heard Vince say you’re amazing, imp, and every butterfly in her stomach settled, wings folded in their own sanctuary.

“Where was I…the dog is modeled on Justice who arrived at the Sanctuary with his own form of PTSD, and is now healing. Not better, because it never fully leaves them—animals or humans—but a fully functioning, happy companion. That’s all we can ask for our animals, and our people.

“For Vince, Justice represents hope, and as a way to thank the Sanctuary for training Calliope as his own service dog, giving Vince his own hope for a future, he carved Justice for this auction. The love that went into this work along with the peace and calm it brought Vince as he worked on it, are evident in the finished item. Please dig deep into your hearts when you bid tonight so that we can help bring some peace to our broken women and men, and the people who love them.”

The silence stretched on.

Should she say something else? Had she offended them? Hell, she still had to get off the stage and suddenly those steps looked impossible to manage. Maybe she could flee through a side exit? Then came the noises. If the silence had swamped her the applause almost knocked her down. Chairs scraped, people stood and there was one simple thing she wished for; that it could have been Vince up here, handsome in his own suit, making his own speech.

Now Adam was at her elbow, taking her to the side and as she turned she saw the auctioneer behind her. When he started to speak the applause quietened and Lulah’s last wish was that she could make it down the steps, back to her seat, without anyone noticing her damp cheeks.

“I can’t believe some of the money these things are fetching. I hope they’re saving some money for Justice.”

Adam laughed. “Don’t you worry, this is chump change for some of the people here.”

Finally, there was the one item left. Justice had been carried in by two attendants and as they set the figure on the stage the lighting was adjusted so that the dog seemed to have a life of its own. When the auctioneer started the bidding at five thousand dollars, Lulah made huge eyes at Marlo.

“Vince is going to blow an artery when he hears about this.” In no time the bidding was up to thirty-five thousand. A brief pause at thirty-eight before it regained a life and took off to finally finish at forty-two thousand dollars. Lulah’s cheeks flushed pink with excitement. “That’s three dogs we can train. Damn, Vince, why isn’t he here to see this.”

Back in her hotel room Lulah spread herself the full width of the obscenely enormous bed. The sheets were crisp, the bed meant for more than one. Sure, it had been an exciting night but now in the dark in a foreign place, all the insecurity she felt for Vince crept back. She missed him, missed sharing a bed with Joker and Calliope, and her wounded warrior. It had been months since she’d had to lie awake and wonder about Vince, if he was safe, physically and emotionally but here she was right back where they’d started. Except now it was worse because she’d deluded herself, ignored instincts and left her heart unprotected, vulnerable to another unreliable man.

From this moment on I will not allow him to get at me. The vow to keep Vince at arm’s length, keep him as a friend was reaffirmed, her heart locked down. He’d been speaking of moving on. He seemed to have done that and she would move on as well. In truth she’d had plenty of practice, and now she seemed quite good at it.

“Goodnight, Vince. Keep him safe, Calliope,” she whispered into the dark room. Many floors below the city fed cars and people through its arteries of streets, and in spite of the luxury of her surroundings, tomorrow and her cabin couldn’t come soon enough.