Page 53 of The Way Back Home

“You sure?”

“We got it,” I say impatiently. The woman looks taken aback by my abruptness, but she nods and leaves the room much more quietly than she had before.

Olivia moves ever so slowly, inching down the wall opposite Zora’s cage. The dog growls, but I tell her to be still and she goes back to sulking in the corner. She’s still as far from me as the kennel will allow but she won’t go into the crate.

I want to ask Olivia how she’s doing, and how she got so strong after experiencing all of that shit at such a young age, but I’m afraid to. Her strength frightens me, because she got through all that and she’s still standing, and a few months of war has left me crippled and on my knees, begging for an easy way out.

Olivia watches Zora closely, as if she’s afraid the dog will snap. I know she won’t—I wouldn’t be in here otherwise—but occupying her space is just another way of showing her who’s dominant.

Zora slowly crawls forward on her belly toward me. “You know she’s doing pretty well for a dog who wanted to tear us all to shreds a few minutes ago,” Olivia whispers.

I nod. “She’s responsive.”

“And you?”

“I’m not unaffected. And I ain’t stupid. I know why you brought me here.”

“Come on, can you blame me?” Olivia grins. “My friend calls and says she’s got no choice but to put down a MWD, and I’m not going to take my best asset along with me?”

“Your best asset?”

She shrugs. “You know I could use a trainer like you on my team.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not a trainer, Liv. I’m a handler. I don’t see no explosives around here, do you?”

“Just that temper of yours.” She gives me a flirty smile, and my dick twitches. She’s gotta stop looking at me like that; it makes it so damn hard to keep on resisting.

Zora paws my outstretched leg. I reach out to pat her, and there’s a brief second when she snarls, and it looks as if she might add my hand to her list of war trophies, but when I make contact with her huge head she closes her eyes and her tongue lolls out.

“Good girl,” I say in a high-pitched voice that makes Olivia chuckle and Zora rolls on her back, exposing her soft underbelly. I give her a good rub, loving her up the way she deserves, and I trace the scars on her legs and stomach that war left behind. “You been through hell too, huh?” I whisper. I don’t intend for Liv to hear it, but I don’t regret the words either. Zora jumps up and licks my face.

“Okay, mamma, that’s enough.” She keeps licking even as I push her away, and sticky saliva covers my hand and face. I pull the KONG from my pocket and toss it across the small kennel. It bounces off the wall and she runs after it, scrambling over my legs in a race to get it before someone else can. It lands in front of Olivia.

“Don’t touch it,” I warn. Olivia’s responding glare says, “This isn’t my first time at the rodeo, dumbass.” I grin, because I love how expressive she is. We may not say a lot, but our eyes say everything our lips can’t.

Zora snatches up her toy and returns it to my lap, but she won’t give it up. I let her have it, because she earned it.

“So, what do we do now?” Olivia asks.

I chuckle and shake my head at her, unable to believe that someone so pure, so perfect, could manipulate me like I was putty in her hands. I played right into her trap, and she knew I would all along. “We go home, Liv.”

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