Chapter Eight
Aiden
When we get back, I tell Emma to go inside, but she insists on helping me get the dogs situated in their new homes. She’s a mess. She’s got dirt under her fingernails, her hair is drenched, and her wet clothes cling to her. A beautiful, fucking mess.
We both take long showers.
After I throw our clothes in the washer, I grab my jacket and head for the door. I’m about to leave when she runs after me. She’s changed into a white dress, with thin straps that curve over her shoulders. Her wet hair is tied back with a blue scarf. I’m at a loss for words again. I look away before I’m caught staring.
“Emma, I’m sorry about the delay, but I’ll have to finish the truck tomorrow.”
“It’s the last thing on my mind. I wasn’t worried about the truck.”
“Then what?”
“You’re heading to the vet to check on Athena, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Can I come with you?”
“Aren’t you tired? You should get some sleep.” To prove me right, she covers her mouth, fighting the yawn.
“I won’t be able to sleep. I have to know she’s okay. Please, Aiden.”
“Let’s go, then,” I say, at odds with my better judgment. Hell, any judgment for that matter. We drive to the vet’s. We sit in the waiting room on uncomfortable plastic chairs, drinking stale coffee while Athena undergoes her surgery. I should have prepared Emma for this. I know what she doesn’t. Breeder dogs rarely survive. They have been subjected to a life of violence and torture. If they do beat the odds and survive, they are even harder to rehabilitate than the aggressive ones. They acclimate, but it’s like they never get happy again. Physical damage is easier to fix than emotional.
It’s impossible to resuscitate a dead soul.
“I think Athena is Faith’s mom,” Emma says.
“Probably. They look alike. They’re both brindles.”
“That’ll be nice. We can reunite them.”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” I say, trying to focus on anything but her overwhelming optimism.
“Hope is all I’ve got.”
I save dogs. Most of the time, they accept and receive love without question. I can train them to understand commands. Their needs are basic. People are much more complicated. I can’t pet Emma and give her some food and make everything all right in her world. But the thing is…I want to make everything all right for her, or at least soften this blow. She’s had so many bad blows. She deserves a win.
But there is something I do need to say to her. It’s overdue. I am a coward for not expressing it earlier.
“I wanted to thank you, Emma.”
“I didn’t help you that much.”
“You did, but that’s not the only thing I’m thanking you for.”
“Then what?”
“When that asshole came… Well, thanks for saying what you did about me. You calmed me down. I’ve never had anyone stand up for me the way you did. It means a lot.”
It did. I’m a huge guy. I don’t need anyone to defend me. I don’t want anyone to. But what Emma said saved me from myself. I almost hugged her…almost.
Everything I do has a purpose. I work out like a fiend because I need to expel the energy and anger that are my constant companions. I work with dogs because it gives me a sense of purpose and peace. Mac jokes that I need to be socialized, too. I supposed there’s truth to that. But with Emma, my instincts make no sense.
“I meant it.” She stifles another yawn. “You do good work here, Aiden. You protect, you rescue, you save.”
Her eyes are heavy. They keep closing and jerking open again. “Go to sleep. I’ll wake you when it’s time.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
She leans back in the chair. It isn’t long before her head shifts onto my arm. I don’t move, not even an inch, except to tilt my face so I can watch her sleep. She smells of sweetness—honey and vanilla and innocence. I don’t want to do anything to ruin all those special things. The face on her watch is cracked. It must have happened while she was in that tunnel. The second hand looks like it’s moving, but it just shifts back and forth in the same spot.
Three hours later, I’m gently trying to wake her. Stacey finished the surgery shortly after Emma fell asleep. There is nothing we can do, so I let the girl rest. She needs it. I want to hold off on the news a bit longer. This is an all-night clinic, and Stacey likes me. Hell, she wants to fuck me. She’s shoved enough business cards at me with her personal cell written on the back. I’d give her a shot except you don’t fuck where you work. This much I get.
“Wake up, Emma.”
She blinks her eyes and lifts her head. Her cheek has the indentation of the Marine insignia from where she laid against my jacket. I stifle my smile, but it’s a losing battle.
She wipes her mouth self-consciously. “What? Did I slobber on you?”
“Negative.”
“Good.” She rubs her eyes, looking around the room as if getting her bearings. When her gaze lands back on me, her eyes widen. “Why are you staring at me like that? Oh God, did I snore?”
I pinch my fingers together. “Little bit.”
A slow pink blush spreads across her chest. “Seriously? I snore?”
“It’s a cute snore, sort of like a kitten’s purr. Good thing there were no dogs in the lobby. You’d definitely cause a ruckus.”
She smiles before realization dawns on her face. Delaying the inevitable never helps, because it always comes anyway. Stupid, fucking inevitable.
She worries her lower lip, her expression anxious. “Athena?”
“I’m sorry. She didn’t make it. She died in surgery.”
Emma breaks downs. I hold her as she sobs, unsure what else to do. Fuck, I even pet her.
“We did everything we could.”
“It wasn’t enough.”
I hold her tight, wishing I could take this pain from her. An attendant lets us in the back so we can say our good-byes to Athena before they cremate her. They have her on a gurney with a sheet over her. Emma closes her eyes and says a prayer. When we’re out in the lobby again, I ask her what she prayed for.
“I prayed God would watch over her. That she will never suffer again. All her tomorrows will be safe and happy. All her yesterdays will be forgotten.”
“It’s a nice prayer, Cooper.”
“How do you do this?” she asks, wiping away a tear.
“One day at a time.” I don’t tell her that this job I’ve chosen takes a massive toll. It’s only when Theo and Otis and the other dogs wag their tails and run freely that I understand salvation is possible. Sometimes when you rescue something else, you rescue yourself, too. But this…this isn’t something I can really explain. I wait for her to dispel her emotion. I’m upset, too, but these outcomes are not uncommon for me. They are expected.
When she calms, she looks down at her watch. I think she expects it’ll work, and when it doesn’t, she swallows hard.
“It’s three in the morning,” I tell her. “I’m going to take you to get something to eat. I know you have to be starving.”
“I can’t eat.” Her stomach grumbles, saying otherwise.
“You have to.”
We stop at a place I know well. It’s an all-night diner that serves some healthy choices. She acts surprised when I pull out her chair. Either she doesn’t think I’m a gentleman or her boyfriend’s a bigger dickhead than I suspect.
I order three chicken breasts, two sides of grapefruit, brown rice, green beans, and a dish of Greek yogurt. I ask Emma what she wants. She arches an eyebrow.
“What?”
“I thought you were ordering for me, too.”
“Nope, you’re on your own.”
She orders some sort of salad with fruit in it.
“Do you always eat this much?” she asks when the waitress leaves.
“Not in one sitting. I skipped about four meals today. I’m trying to make up for it.”
“Four?”
“I eat five to six times a day. It’s part of the regimen.”
I wolf my food down while she moves the leafy greens around her plate.
“Eat,” I command. As soon as it comes out, I regret it. I expect her be angry, but she chuckles instead.
“You’ve been around dogs too long, Aiden.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Hippos are the most dangerous animals in the world. They are responsible for more deaths than any other animal in the wild. Bet you didn’t know that.”
The laughter that comes from my belly feels foreign to me. “I did not. Guess I’ll try to avoid them in the wild, then.”
“Why do you call me by my last name?”
“I do that with everyone. It’s a habit from being in the Marines, I guess.”
“Oh,” she says, looking disappointed. Is it because I lumped her in with everyone else?
I throw my last chicken breast onto her plate. “You need more protein.”
She laughs. “Seriously, you’re throwing food at me?”
“It’s a big sacrifice. I don’t share food. Consider yourself an honorary member of my pack.”
She smiles at this as if it means something.
“The honor is mine, Aiden.”
She actually eats the chicken. But her sad smile returns, and I’m sure her thoughts are drifting back to Athena, the friend we could not save.
I lean in to the table. “Look at me, Emma.” She lifts her head, and her gray eyes are rimmed with red from lack of sleep and way too many tears. “We won today. It doesn’t seem like it, but we did.”
“How can you say that?”
“Don’t take my word for it. We rescued over thirty dogs between three shelters. If you asked any one of those mutts, they would agree with me.”
“I just can’t believe Athena’s dead. I doubt she ever had a happy memory.”
“Sure she did. You gave her one when you showed her compassion and fed her. You should be proud of that. I am.”
I’m proud of you, too, Emma.
“It’s not much.”
“Sometimes it doesn’t take much. The things everyone else takes for granted go deeper for those who are traumatized. That little kindness you gave her was a grand gesture in her world. You understand?”
Emma nods. “Yeah, I do.”
“C’mon, let’s get out of here. I’ll show you a few more reasons why today is a win.”
We drive back in silence, the sun coming over the horizon. She heads for the house, but I take her hand and lead her toward the kennels.
Faith is nestled between several other puppies, resting peacefully. Emma smiles again. The dog must sense her, because she tilts her head. All Emma has to do is hold her arms out and Faith jumps into them.
“She remembers you, Cooper. She knows you saved her.”
Emma plays with the dog for a while, offering her treats. Faith is amazing, too. It’s incredible that this rambunctious, tail-wagging animal is the same scared pup facing a watery death a few hours ago.
“Is it weird that I sort of love her already? I don’t want to leave her.”
“There’s no time constraint on falling in love.” Shit, did I really just say that?
“Do you think she’ll find a good home?”
Faith licks my face. “An affectionate mutt like this will find a family in no time. And until then, we will take care of her. I promise.”
“I know you will.”
Soon all the puppies are up, begging for attention. Mac and one of trainers come in to start the day’s work. The trainer gathers the puppies up for a walk. Emma goes with her, taking Faith’s leash.
“Busy night. You have a second to fill me in?” Mac asks, entering the barn where we keep the puppies. The sun rises around us, spilling through the slats of wood and windows. It casts a pale, orange light. He sits on a bale of hay. I start to tell him about the rescue.
He holds up his hand. “I have those details. I understand it was intense, but we had a great victory. I was really asking about her.” He jerks his head to the door where Emma just left.
“What about her?”
“Something is different between you two.”
“It was an intense rescue.” I brush off what he says, even though it’s true. I imagine her traveling all by herself in that truck. Yeah, I’m going to make it drivable, but it will be just a short matter of time till something else goes wrong. What if she’s stranded somewhere?
Even worse, what if she makes it? I know what waits for her in Linx. The possibilities run rampant in my head.
Mac puts his hand on my shoulder. I go tense. “You can talk to me, Aiden. I am here to listen.”
I nod, too conflicted to keep shrugging this off and pretending the Emma problem is not mine to deal with. I pull out my cell phone and scroll through the messages. “I received a text from my friend, Seth. He’s the only one I keep in touch with in Linx.” I show him the message. Mac’s eyes widen as he reads it.
“They let him out of jail?” Mac asks in disbelief, even though that is exactly what the message says.
“Yeah.”
“You have to tell her the truth.”
“It would destroy her. She’s been through hell as it is. Besides, even if I did, I don’t know if it would keep her from wanting to find her own answers. She might go anyway. She might go directly to him. She’s incredibly stubborn.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
I’m about to answer I have no idea when the door to the barn creaks. They are back. I shove my phone in my back pocket and stand. “Right now, I’m gonna get some sleep,” I say instead.
We say a quick good-bye to the puppies and I take Emma back to the house. We’ve been up all day and night. We need sleep. We pass her truck in the covered garage.
“You replaced the alternator already. I watched you with the tires. I think I can do the others on my own. I don’t want to take up any more of your time.”
“I intend to finish what I started.”
“You have too much to do here.”
“I’m going with you.”
Fuck, where did that come from?
She stops in her tracks like she misheard me. I think I misheard me, too. Sometimes, when there are no good solutions, you only get to choose between stupid and stupider. Somehow, I manage to find stupidest.
Emma shakes her head. “I can’t ask you to do that. You have the fight, and all this.” She gestures toward the kennels.
Instead of taking the out she graciously offers me, I forge ahead. I’m in it now.
“The fight’s in three days. I don’t think you’re in a hurry. You’ve waited this long. Just stay here for a few more days, then you can come to Vegas with me. We’ll fly out from there to Texas.”
She chews her lower lip. “I have a fear of flying. How about I drive and you can meet me in Linx?”
“That doesn’t work for me.” Hell, part of the reason I’m going is because I don’t want her to travel alone. “We’ll drive together, then. Mac can handle things here.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“Why the change of heart?”
I don’t really have an answer, nor do I want to debate it with her. I only have rules.
“That’s not really important. But there are a few things I insist on. We’ll take my car, and I’ll drive. It’ll be more comfortable. We stay where I want. Separate rooms, of course. I’ll pay our way.”
“It doesn’t work like that. You don’t get to make decisions for me. I can’t take your money.”
“I’m not making decisions, just laying down a few simple rules of the road. Your mama asked me to be there. Do you really want to dishonor her request?”
It’s a low blow, using her mama to bend her will. I’m bending, though. Not breaking.
“That’s mean. You’re right, though.”
“Good girl.”
She tilts her head and laughs. “You’re the only man I’d let get away with treating me like a dog.”
Yeah, Emma, you’re the only girl I would treat as well as a dog.
She pauses at the top of the stairs and turns to me.
“You said Linx was like hell.”
“No, I said I’d rather go to hell than Linx.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Night, Cooper. Sweet dreams.”
She opens her mouth as if she’s about to argue, but then she turns around and heads up the stairs.
The difference, Emma, is that it no longer feels right to let you go to hell alone.