Page 38 of Make Me Trust Again
Slowly letting it go as I force my grip to loosen.
I repeat the motion until my panic is at bay.
Blinking my eyes open, I find Kyle watching me intently, waiting.
“She…” My voice feels tight, so I clear my throat. “She got hurt.”
Kyle shifts his attention to the dog, and I can see his hand move slightly. As if he wants to reach for her, but he doesn’t dare.
“The same time you got hurt?” he asks softly, those big blue eyes completely innocent as he watches me, his attention fixed on my scarred face.
He doesn’t know of the war, of destruction, of death.
That knot in my throat grows tighter, the material of my shirt sticking to my sweaty skin.
I clear my throat, but still my voice comes out rough. “Yeah.”
His expression softens a little. “Mom says we shouldn’t hurt others.”
“Your mom’s right.”
“Mom’salwaysright.” Kyle rolls his eyes, but there is humor in them. His tongue peeks from between his lips, his fingers clenching and unclenching. “Can I pet her? I don’t want her to bite me.”
“She won’t bite you.” I glance at Shadow, who’s shifting in her seat, her ears perked up. “Shadow, stay.”
The dog’s eyes light up, and her tail starts wagging excitedly, but she doesn’t make any attempt to get up. No, she waits for Kyle to come to her. Which he slowly does. He extends his hand, and just as he’s about to touch her, he pulls his hand back, giggles, and does it again; this time, his fingers sink into her fur, and he scratches her behind her ears.
Shadow tilts her head, nuzzling firmer into his touch, and her tongue darts out, licking his hand.
“You can go.”
The dog doesn’t need to be told twice. She licks Kyle’s cheek, making him laugh, the joyous sound echoing in the air as he tries to push her back.
“It tickles.” He squirms away, still giggling. “Sit.”
Shadow’s butt touches the ground, but her tail is working overtime.
“Ball?”
It’s like he said the magic word because Shadow rushes toward the house and quickly returns with a tennis ball, handing it to him. He takes it and tosses it, the ball flying through the air. For such a small kid, he has a good arm on him.
Shadow dashes after it, catching the ball quickly, and returns to him, eager for more, and he complies. Getting back to work, I keep an eye on the two of them as they play. Shadow is relentless, but Kyle doesn’t seem to mind. Any reservation he had toward Shadow is long gone.
I’m just finishing putting the primer on the last counter when the two of them sit down, both breathing heavily.
“What are you doing?”
Placing the brush on top of the can, I turn toward him. “Putting a primer on.”
His little brows pull together; his gaze fixed on my mouth. “What is primo?”
“Primer,” I repeat, this time slower, as I point at the can. “You have to put it on before painting.”
“Why?”
“So it’s easier to put on paint, and it lasts longer.”
“Hmm…” He looks toward the counters, worrying at his lip. “I guess that makes sense.”
