Page 44 of Make Me Trust Again
CHASE
“You’re seriously doing amazing work here, Chase.”
“It’s all him,” I mutter, my voice coming out raspy.
My gaze lingers on the husky mix playing with two other dogs, completely at ease in his surroundings. A few months ago, something like this wouldn’t have been possible. Duke was rescued from a fighting ring, and his hostility toward people and dogs alike was severe. He almost bit my hand off the first time I tried to approach him. Then again, considering everything he’s been through, it wasn’t really surprising.
He was wild, hurt, underfed, and abused by his previous owner, and when somebody found him, he was so badly wounded that the people who reported it thought he was dead. Thankfully, I went to check it out as soon as we got the call and brought him back to the shelter so Mae could help him.
Since then, Duke’s physical wounds have healed, and he’s filled out after he started eating properly. Once matted fur that had been torn in uneven patches has been shaved off, and is now growing evenly. After a few months of love, care, propernutrition, and training, Duke has slowly started to adapt to his new life.
“It’s allyou.” Maisie snorts, her hand falling on my forearm.
My muscles jerk instinctively at the touch, the need to pull my hand away almost overwhelming, but I force my body to lock into place. Still, Maisie must see through me because she quickly lets her hand drop and gives me an apologetic smile.
“Nobody at the shelter wanted to even go near him with how aggressive he’d been acting.” She gives me a pointed look, the corner of her mouth tipping upward as she twirls the end of her brown braid around her finger. “I swear, you’re a dog whisperer or something.”
A dog whisperer. Only Maisie could come up with something like that. But that’s Maisie. She sees good in everything and everybody, regardless of the darkness that’s surrounding them.
“I’m no such thing,” I huff, shaking my head.
“We’ll have to agree to disagree.”
I turn my attention to the animals once again, feeling the darkness creeping under the surface. It’s always there, simmering softly, taunting me quietly, reminding me that no matter where I am, or what I do, it’s there. It’ll always be there.
That’s the real reason I’m so good with wounded, damaged animals. They call to me, unlike anything else. I can understand them. I can understand their hurt and lashing out. I understand the beast lying inside of them. It’s like the monster that’s been hiding inside of me for the last few years.
Maybe Maisie sees it too, because she’s the reason I’m volunteering at the animal shelter. Last year, she brought in a stray that was unfriendly since it was most likely abused by its previous owner. She asked me if I could try and work with it; otherwise, it would have to be put down, and something about that didn’t sit right with me.
A warm body brushes against the side of my leg.
Shadow.
I lower my hand, letting my fingers sink into her thick fur, the warmth of her body grounding me.
Shadow and I’ve been together for years. We were paired early in our careers and have gone through hell and back. Once it was determined that neither of us was capable of returning to the military after we were injured, they allowed me to adopt her. It was a good thing, too, because she was the only thing that kept me sane in those early days after we returned home when the pain was unbearable, and the memories of that day haunted me day and night, the loud blasts?—
“Chase?”
Shaking my head, I turn around to find Maisie watching me, that smile replaced by a worried expression. I’m pretty sure she called me at least a few times, but I didn’t hear it, too lost in my own thoughts.
She tilts her head to the side, her hand moving, as if she wants to touch me, but she stops herself at the very last second. “Are you okay?”
Shit.
Maisie knows me too well for my own good, and although she’s younger than me, she doesn’t have a problem calling me out on my bullshit.
Her piercing brown eyes stare into me, reminding me of another time, of another set of those same chocolate eyes, and a broken promise.
The bile rises up my throat, leaving a bitter taste on my tongue.
“Y-yeah,” I croak out, running my hand over my face.
Maisie presses her lips in a tight line, disapproval written all over her face. “Chase?—”
“I know you want to put him up for adoption, but I want to try something different,” I say, not giving her time to argue.
“Like what?” she asks slowly, her eyes narrowing at me. She knows I’m trying to distract her, but she loves her animals, so she’ll let it go, at least for the time being.
