Chapter 17

Somebody called me pretty today. Actually, they called me ‘pretty fucking awful,’ but I’m only focusing on the positive.

-Text from Kayla to Parker

Kayla

I didn’t really know what he meant by memorial service, but honestly, I’d do anything with Parker.

Anything.

He could ask me to jump off a cliff and promise that he’d catch me—even though it wasn’t physically possible—and I’d do it. He could tell me that the speed of light was slow, and I’d believe him. He could ask me to do anything, and I’d go out of my way to make that happen.

So, when he’d asked if I wanted to go to a memorial service, I hadn’t even hesitated.

I didn’t know what it was for or where it was, and I didn’t care.

We’d been driving for hours, and when I say hours, I meant eight of them. We’d left at three o’clock in the morning and had driven until nine before we’d stopped for a break. Then we’d gotten back on the road and had been there for two more hours before the first sign had appeared.

Now, we were in Florida, of all places.

“Florida?” I asked.

I’d been watching the signs pass by, and my guess was that we were either going to Florida or Georgia, and now my question was answered.

“You know,” he sounded kind of happy. “I was thinking that you’d ask where we were going a long time ago.”

I shrugged. “I honestly didn’t care. It’s not like I have anyone waiting for me back there.”

I looked over my shoulder when Carmen stood up and smiled.

“One day,” I told her. “I’m going to pet you.”

Carmen, who didn’t have her muzzle on, stared back at me.

She didn’t drop her mouth open and allow her tongue to roll out. She didn’t do much of anything but stare.

But I suppose that was progress seeing as in the beginning, she hadn’t even allowed me to get close to her without her growling.

She’d been sitting behind me the entire car ride and hadn’t so much as complained one bit.

I also wasn’t scared of her anymore. I knew she wouldn’t hurt me. Other people, however…yeah, that wasn’t a given.

She didn’t like other people at all, and honestly, she reminded me of her master in that way.

Neither one of them spoke to strangers, and they were always wary of them.

When we’d stopped for diesel for Parker’s truck, he’d gone in with me to get food and hadn’t so much as said a kind word to anyone.

Whereas everyone else was throwing out ‘Merry Christmas’ and ‘Happy Holidays’ like it was confetti.

Carmen had gone to the patch of grass just to the right of the pumps, and when a woman and her dog got closer, a smile on her face, Parker growled. Growled.

“Stay away,” he ordered.

When Carmen was out with Parker, she wore a service dog vest, as well as a muzzle.

It was a digital camo blue and had a bunch of patches on it. One patch said: It’s a felony to interfere with a service dog. Another said: Retired US NAVY. The other was a NAVY emblem. The last said: Do Not Touch.

People saw those patches and usually stayed well away.

All but this stupid woman, who thought it was okay to touch the dog, despite seeing all the patches on the dog’s vest.

“I’m sorry, but don’t touch her,” I said, stepping in front of Carmen to block the woman and her dog.

Carmen was still about four feet behind me, but I could see the intent in the woman’s eyes.

“Why?” she asked, somewhat rudely. “It’s just a dog.”

“It’s not just a dog. She’s a retired military K-9. She’s also got PTSD and doesn’t like being touched by people she doesn’t know. So please, keep your distance.”

“Then your dog shouldn’t be in public,” she countered.

“Maybe you and your terrible manners shouldn’t be in public,” I suggested.

The woman opened her mouth, but just as she was about to say something, Carmen started to growl low in her throat.

That was because her stupid dog was creeping up to me, his ears low.

It wasn’t a mean looking dog, per se. It was an Alaskan Malamute, but I could tell that her dog had sensed the change in her master.

Well, so had Carmen.

And Carmen didn’t like the look of the dog any more than I did.

“Can you please keep your dog away from mine?” I asked.

The woman gave a half-hearted tug on the lead but didn’t do much more than that.

I took a step back and felt fur on my hand.

Carmen was now a few inches from me and wasn’t protesting me touching her. I felt like letting out a whoop but chose not to do that, or the woman would surely think that I was being a bitch and that I was crazy.

I was also tempted to push her dog away with my foot, because I could see this situation deteriorating quickly.

At least, it could have deteriorated.

Parker, however, must’ve seen what was going on from the store because he was just suddenly beside me.

Big. Intimidating.

And mine.

“Back. Off,” he snapped.

The words weren’t loud. Not really.

But they were pissed off and full of aggressiveness that would’ve literally made me run.

This woman, though? She obviously was lacking common sense.

“I just wanted to pet the dog! What’s so wrong with that? And, if the dog can’t be petted, she needs to be locked away—or better yet, put to sleep!”

“So, if I took your dog right now, tortured her, and she somehow survived, would you want to put her to sleep or would you want to help her?”

The woman made a sound in her throat.

“If you touch my dog, I’ll kill you.”

Parker laughed darkly. “If you touch my dog, I will not be responsible. She has a vest that says she’s a service dog. It’s also a felony to interfere with a service dog. Do you know what a felony is, ma’am?”

The woman didn’t reply, and Carmen nudged my hand with her nose.

I looked down at her, and shit you not, she nudged her head toward Parker’s truck.

Smiling at her greatness, I backed away until Parker’s truck was at my back, and Carmen seemed to relax.

Parker seemed to as well.

Especially since we’d gathered a crowd since it’d all started.

A family of five was staring at us from their minivan while an elderly couple was standing in front of their RV, arms crossed.

Then there was a man standing beside his car, leaning against it casually.

I frowned and stared at him.

He was staring at the entire situation with amusement on his face.

I narrowed my eyes at him, but his eyes were too focused on Parker and the woman to be aware of my aggravated look.

I opened the back door for Carmen, but she didn’t so much as twitch.

That was when I saw her muscles quivering as if she was ready to react at any second to any preconceived threat.

Whether it was to protect me or Parker, I didn’t know.

But I’d take either at this point.

Especially when the man that had been leaning against the car started walking over toward Parker.

I watched him as did Carmen, and when he was nearly to the sidewalk that separated the grass from the concrete, Carmen left me for Parker.

She turned so that her butt was to the woman and the dog, making sure that Parker’s back was protected. It was all so practiced as if they’d done it a thousand times before.

And it made me curious.

Had they done it a thousand times before?

Surely they had, otherwise she wouldn’t have known how to do that.

The man who’d started over paused, staring at Carmen.

Parker looked over his shoulder, spotted the man, and positioned himself better so that both woman and man were in his sight.

Carmen moved with him.

I found myself smiling.

I loved that they had that.

“Carmen, kennel.”

Carmen looked like she really didn’t want to, but she did.

Reluctantly.

Very, very reluctantly.

She moved to me, stopped once to look one more time over her shoulder, and then hopped in the truck.

I closed the back door, then circled around to the passenger side and got in.

I would not be using the facilities at this particular gas station.

Not with the weirdo couple there who didn’t seem to know what boundaries were.

My luck, they’d find me in the bathroom and ask to use the same stall as me.

No, thank you. I’d wait until I literally couldn’t wait anymore, then I’d beg Parker to stop.

Speaking of Parker, without another word, he turned his back and started to walk away.

The woman, seeing her opening, threw what looked like a bag of poop at him.

Parker stepped out of the way, as if he’d anticipated that, and kept walking.

I bit my lip to keep the laugh inside. The woman looked pissed that she’d missed, then turned and glared at the man.

The woman crossed the grass and stopped next to the man who’d been watching the entire spectacle, and I shook my head. I should’ve known that was her car and her man. They were both stupid.

Obviously.

The woman pointed at him with a finger in his face, and he pushed her backward.

Parker got inside and stared with me.

“If he hits her, can I laugh?”

He grunted. “We’re not staying long enough to find out if he does or not.”

With that, he started the truck and pulled out.

I bit my lip.

“You never told me what happened to Carmen,” I whispered softly.

I mean, I assumed something bad had happened, but what I assumed, and what really happened, were night and day.

“Carmen was stolen from us while we were on a mission. Then she was given to a radical group, who tried to make her work for them. At first, she resisted. However, after they beat her enough, she started to perform. Unfortunately for them, we found her before she could be used against us. But when she finally got back under our command, she was no longer a sane dog. The only person that she could stand to be around was me. I don’t know why. We were never really trainer and K-9, but whatever. I love her now. She’s mine.”

“Like to like.”

“What?” He looked over at me.

“I said, like to like. Broken recognizes broken.”

He grunted in reply.

To change the subject we were currently on, I made a blanket statement, knowing he’d answer, and that he would no longer be on such a sensitive subject.

“Where in Florida are we going?” I asked.

“It’s a small town just east of the state line. We’re almost there,” he answered.

“Who is the memorial service for?” I pushed. “Is it something to do with the military?”

He shook his head.

“Next weekend I’ll be participating in the Wreaths Across America ceremony…if you want to come. But this memorial service isn’t for anything to do with the military. It’s for my nephew,” he murmured quietly.

“Your nephew. I thought you said that Gunner was your only living family member?” I questioned curiously.

“He is,” Parker admitted. “But it’s not for Gunner…it’s for Gunner’s son, Jett.”

“Gunner has a son?” I squeaked, surprised to hear that news.

I’d never heard anything about a son, and I watched a lot of baseball. One would think the announcers would mention it seeing as Gunner was so stinkin’ young.

“Had a son,” Parker said gruffly. “He was killed.”

“Killed?” I breathed.

Parker nodded once. “Killed. In a school shooting a few years ago.”

Suddenly, I started to think back to school shootings a few years ago, and only one came to mind that had happened in Florida.

“Oh, no,” I murmured.

If it was the one I was thinking about, it’d been a class of babies—four-year-olds—and quite a few of them had perished. There’d been three students in the hallway—from another class—that had died as well.

Sixteen children in total.

“Will Gunner be there?” I asked softly.

“Gunner won’t come,” Parker murmured. “He…can’t. One day, maybe he will. But that day hasn’t gotten here yet. It’s still too raw.”

I didn’t know what to say, and honestly, I couldn’t blame Gunner.

I couldn’t say that I wouldn’t do the same had I been in a similar situation—God forbid.