Handle Me

by Kira Sinclair

  Van’s body gave an involuntary shiver. She remembered those fingers digging into her skin, massaging, caressing and stroking.

  “Nick, Margaret, it’s good to see you.”

  Her parents smiled up at Ty. “You too, son.”

  “We’ll be starting in five minutes,” a loud voice boomed out over the chaos of people, floats, music and chatter filling the space around them.

  “We best go and find a spot to watch.”

  “You’re sure you wouldn’t rather ride with us?” Van asked, hating herself for the edge of desperation she couldn’t seem to stop from slipping into her voice.

  Having her parents there as a buffer might keep her from doing or saying something she’d regret.

  “Oh, no. There isn’t enough room. Besides, I’d much rather watch. We’ll wave when we see you!” her mom said, grabbing her dad’s hand and tugging him back into the crowd surging around them.

  Alone, Ty shifted. His hand left Kaia’s back and flattened onto the rear of the car, his thumb briefly brushing the curve of her ass. Van jolted, her body stiffening. Beside her, Kaia reacted as well.

  “Easy.”

  She wasn’t sure whom Ty was addressing, but his soft, soothing voice had the opposite effect than he’d probably intended.

  Energy and awareness tingled beneath her skin, heat shooting out from where he’d accidentally—it was an accident, right?—touched her, flooding the rest of her body.

  Searching for a distraction, Van asked, “How was your trip to Lackland? Mom mentioned you went.”

  “It was good. Always nice to reconnect with friends. I haven’t seen Finn McAllister in years. We served together when Ryan and I first got into the program. Finn came back to work in the training unit at Lackland, but has recently been working with the drug task force in San Antonio. Interesting work.”

  She wanted to respond, but the words wouldn’t come.

  Then the car lurched forward, not fast, but enough to jolt her body. Ty’s hand clamped around her hip, holding her in place.

  Van’s startled gaze flew to his. His blue-gray eyes were enigmatic as he watched her. There was something about them that had always captivated her.

  Nope. Not today.

  Scooting out of his hold, Van pulled her attention back to the front. She pasted a smile on her face and waved as they rounded the first corner and were greeted by the cheering crowd of people lining the curb.

  It felt like the entire town had gathered. People stood five or six deep, crushed against each other. Little kids were perched atop their fathers’ shoulders, trying to get a clear look at the passing floats.

  Kaia shifted beside her, a little restless as she attempted to find a comfortable position.

  Van set her hand on Kaia’s shoulder. She could feel the tension trembling through her body.

  “Is she okay?” Van asked, without actually looking at Ty.

  He shifted, putting a protective arm around Kaia and running a soothing hand down her back. “Easy, girl,” he murmured. “She’s trained to handle crowds and loud noises, so she should be fine.”

  His words were reassuring, but the crease between his eyebrows wasn’t.

  They continued along the route, waving and smiling, turning and shifting but not touching. Ty kept a hand on Kaia and after a little while, the tension seemed to ease from the dog’s body.

  Under the blazing sun, it didn’t take long for sweat to start collecting at the nape of Van’s neck and beneath her breasts. The light breeze that stirred as the car moved was welcoming, but not nearly enough to combat the sun beating down on them.

  Kaia’s tongue started lolling out as she panted.

  “I should have brought water.”

  Ty reached into the backpack he’d stowed on the backseat and pulled out a collapsible bowl and a bottle of water. Flipping her a small smile, he poured some in, then set it on his thigh for Kaia.

  The dog lapped it up like she’d been stuck in the desert for weeks without water.

  “Great. Now I feel like even more of an ass.”

  “No, you’re just not used to having a dog. You’ll get the hang of it soon enough.”

  Suddenly, the car came to a stop. Van glanced around and realized they were in the middle of 2nd Ave, the main road leading through downtown. Bleachers had been set up in a parking lot and a raised dais rested right in front of them.

  A guy with a mic and a bunch of technical-looking equipment sat in the middle of it.

  Suddenly, his voice boomed out over the crowd.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, the city of Watershed is proud to present Ty Colson, an active duty K-9 handler with the US Army, Savannah Cantrell, sister to Ryan Cantrell, the posthumous grand marshal for today’s parade, and Kaia, the Belgian Malinois who served with Staff Sergeant Cantrell. Kaia stayed by his side during the IED explosion that claimed Mr. Cantrell’s life, refusing to leave despite her own injuries.”

  A lump formed in Savannah’s throat. Her eyes burned as her gaze swept across the crowd in front of them. They stared back, a sea of sad and pitying expressions. Dammit, this was exactly what she’d wanted to avoid.

  The announcer said something Van didn’t catch and a cheer shot through the crowd. Someone started chanting Kaia’s name. Van supposed that was better than Ryan’s.

  Beside her, Kaia whimpered and shifted, tension filling her body once more.

  Ty’s hand pressed down on her head, rubbing behind her ears.

  Standing, Van joined Ty in waving at the crowd. What else could she do?

  “Ma’am, sir, if you’ll sit back down we’ll keep going,” their driver said.

  Plopping back down, she murmured, “When will this be over?”

  “It won’t be long.” This time, Ty’s soothing hand landed on her thigh. He stroked, electricity chasing after the touch. Her entire body clenched. Physically, she wanted more, even if her brain wanted him to leave her alone.

  Ty simply watched her, his own gaze ripe with turmoil as they stared at each other.

  One minute she’d been mired down with inaction, and the next it felt like the world erupted around her.

  Somewhere in the crowd a series of loud explosions went off, pop, pop, pop.

  Firecrackers.

  Beside her, Kaia bolted to her feet. Before either of them could react, her long body was sailing over the side of the car. She stumbled as her paws landed onto the pavement.

  Ty lurched after her, his body sprawled across Van’s lap, half in and half out of the still moving vehicle. Instinct had her wrapping her fingers into the waistband of his uniform slacks.

  The car screeched to a halt.

  Several people in the crowd screamed.

  Ty pushed off of Van’s lap and vaulted out of the car after Kaia, a string of curse words trailing in his wake.

  Van felt the same way.

  She scrambled out behind him.

  Ty was fast, but Kaia was faster and she seemed to be on a mission. The crowd parted, or tried to, as she wove through a maze of legs.

  Parents snatched their children out of the way, panic and fear stamped across their faces as if they expected the dog to attack at any moment.

  Yes, she was big and probably wild-eyed. But didn’t they realize Kaia was scared?

  Apparently not.

  And it didn’t help when her solid body collided with a toddler, probably no more than three or four, knocking the little girl backward onto the pavement. There was a muted thud and a gasp from the people around them.

  Kaia didn’t even slow down. Her body bounced off the child, but she just kept going, running as if her life depended on it.

  Ty was in a flat-out sprint ahead of Van. If she had the time to stop and think about it, she would have marveled at the speed that
large, muscled body could move at.

  But that wasn’t what she cared about right now. All that mattered was Kaia.

  Behind her the announcer, his voice high-pitched despite the calming words he was spouting, attempted to get control of the crowd.

  Knowing that she didn’t really have a chance to catch Kaia, but hoping Ty did, Van dropped to her knees beside the little girl.

  “Are you okay?”

  Tears streamed down her upturned face. Her green eyes were huge as she stared up at Van and shook her head.

  “What hurts?” she asked even as her hands started running over the child, looking for any indication of injury.

  “My bum,” the little girl said in an adorable voice. “That big dog knocked me down.”

  Van was fairly certain the girl was fine, just scared from the surprise of being bowled over by a seventy-five-pound dog. Not that she blamed her.

  The girl’s mother put her hand on Van’s shoulder. “I think she’s fine. Just startled.”

  An understanding smile stretched across the other woman’s face.

  “I’m a doctor. Savannah Cantrell in the book. If she seems dizzy or starts complaining that her head hurts or her vision is blurry, please call me and I’ll meet you at the emergency room.”

  The woman nodded.

  Van offered the little girl a quick smile, swept it over to include her mother and then stood up.

  Ty was gone, which meant Kaia was long gone.

  But someone pointed her in the right direction and Van took off.

  * * *

  SHIT, HE SHOULD have known better. Should have anticipated Kaia’s nerves and especially her reaction to those damn firecrackers. It was a good thing he was preoccupied with finding her or he might have stopped to knock some sense into adolescent heads.

  Not that they understood what they’d done.

  Dammit.

  Kaia was on a tear, and even missing a leg she was faster on her feet than he was. It didn’t help that she’d had a head start and the chaos of the crowd had slowed him down. But he’d still managed to track her for several blocks.

  Until he’d lost her near the outskirts of downtown.

  She wasn’t familiar with the area. Ty stopped, glancing around, hoping to find some clue as to which direction she might’ve gone.

  The logical answer was home. She’d been at Van’s house long enough to understand it held safety and shelter. He pulled out his cell, ready to call Van and tell her to head home to wait when a car squealed around the corner and pulled up beside him.

  Van leaned out the open window. “Get in.”

  Ty didn’t argue. He ran around the hood of the car and hopped into the passenger seat.

  “I lost her.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t keep up, but I stopped to check on the little girl Kaia knocked over. She’ll be fine.”

  “I’m glad she’s okay.”

  “Any idea where Kaia might be?”

  Ty shook his head. “She’s not familiar with the area. I’m hoping she can scent her way back home.”

  “That’s a long way, Ty.”

  “Not for Kaia. She’s used to long marches in the heat, just like any good soldier.”

  Van looked over at him. Her fingers gripping the wheel had turned white with tension. Concern filled her deep green eyes and he felt the need to say, “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “Not anticipating the problem.”

  “Ty, you’re pretty badass, but not even you can predict the future.”

  “I should have. Her body might be fully healed, but apparently she’s still struggling with some aftereffects of the explosion.”

  “PTSD?”

  Ty nodded. It was probably the correct diagnosis, but he didn’t like the term. No soldier really did. They were big and tough. Could handle anything. Until they couldn’t. And no one, he didn’t care who you were, liked to admit that they weren’t in control of their own emotions or reactions.

  “Call Mom and Dad and ask them to go back to my place in case she shows there. We’ll take the long way home and see if we can’t find her along the way.”

  It was the best plan. Ty rolled up onto his hip so he could pull his cell out of his pocket, but stopped halfway up when Van’s hand landed on his thigh.

  She didn’t take her eyes off the road, despite the fact that she was doing about fifteen down the residential street. The heat from her hand seeped into his skin, spreading like wildfire and igniting him from the inside out.

  Ty fought the urge to bring his own hand down over hers, holding her in place.

  “We’ll find her. Everything will be fine.”

  Her words washed over him. Had anyone ever said that to him before? He couldn’t remember.

  He needed to change the subject before he said or did something they’d both regret.

  “Badass, huh?”

  Van just rolled her eyes, but a grin played at the corners of her lips.

  7

  THEY’D BEEN DRIVING around town for almost an hour. Her parents had called to tell them they were at Van’s, but there was no sign of Kaia. With that covered, they agreed that staying out to look was the best course of action.

  There was no way Van could’ve sat at home waiting...and Ty definitely wouldn’t have handled that well.

  As it was, Ty was a big bag of nerves. He hid it well, but she noticed the signs of his agitation. The way his fingers kept strumming across his thighs. The hard line of his jaw. The hyperalert way his gaze scanned around, looking for any sign or clue.

  A sound blasted through the car, startling Van. She’d turned off the radio and rolled down the windows so they could listen, although she wasn’t entirely certain what she’d hoped to hear. Maybe the jangle of Kaia’s tags.

  Instead, Ty’s cell phone had broken the silence.

  “Margaret, is she there?”

  Van could hear the anxiety in Ty’s voice. It had gotten tighter and tighter the more time had passed.

  He listened. Van slowed the car in case she needed to turn around and head for home. Ty glanced over at her and gave a single, hard jerk of his head, no. His mouth thinned into a flat line and his eyes went dark and stormy.

  Her stomach churned. She’d been the bearer of enough bad news to recognize the signs. This wasn’t going to be good.

  “Yes, ma’am, we’ll head over there right now.”

  Ty punched angrily at his phone, disconnecting the call. His arm dropped into his lap and his head fell back against the headrest. His eyes screwed shut for a second before he reached up and pressed both palms into his sockets, rubbing hard.

  “Well?” she asked, anxious to hear what was up.

  “Head to the cemetery.”

  “What?”

  “Apparently, the entire town has organized a search party for Kaia and someone called your mom to say she’d been spotted at the cemetery.”

  Oh, shit.

  “Why would she go there?”

  Yes, in the grand scheme of things, the cemetery wasn’t that far from the parade route. They hadn’t driven close because the layout of the streets had naturally funneled them in the opposite direction. But Kaia wasn’t in a car, she was on foot and it was a straight shot through an industrial area, across the city park and straight into the back of the cemetery.

  “She has an excellent sense of smell; it’s one of the reasons her breed is good for military work.”

  Van closed her eyes. “My parents and I went by his grave this morning. I left Kaia in the car, but Mom took several of Ryan’s things and left them on his headstone. They were in the car with us. I was so wrapped up in my own misery, I didn’t even think about how that might have affected Kaia.”

 
Ty’s hand brushed across her shoulder, beneath her hair, and cupped the nape of her neck. Tingles shot down her spine, but they were secondary to the other emotions swirling inside her.

  She’d been careless.

  “You live and learn, Van. Stop beating yourself up for being human.”

  That was easy for him to say. Ty had always laughed in the face of expectation. Growing up, she didn’t think there was a rule he hadn’t broken, if only to say he’d done it. And because it was easier to let everyone think nothing could touch him.

  But Van had lived in fear of getting in trouble. Of the consequences that came with being less than perfect.

  Even now, her worst nightmare was the thought of screwing up at work and hurting someone...or killing them. It was something she tried to push away, but never quite disappeared. It just lurked. And probably always would.

  Why couldn’t she be more like him? Confident and sure. Able to let things—especially unimportant ones—slip off his back?

  It didn’t take long to reach the cemetery. She’d been here way too often over the past few months. At first, she’d avoided the headstone that marked Ryan’s last resting place. But a couple months after the service, after a really rough day at work, she’d been mindlessly tired and somehow found her car parked along the road that wound through the property.

  That first time she’d just sat in the car, letting her entire day play through her head. The second time she’d gotten out of the car and leaned against the hood. The third time she’d walked straight up to his grave, crossed her arms and cursed at him for getting himself killed.

  After that, whenever she had a difficult day, she’d find herself there, just talking to him.

  She missed the big brother who’d always seemed to have all the answers.

  But right now she couldn’t think about that. She had to concentrate on caring for the dog who’d mattered so much to Ryan.

  Kaia needed her.

  That more than anything kept her moving forward.

  Turning a corner on the paved road, Van could see her. Kaia’s big body was stretched out, lying across the grass that had grown over Ryan’s grave.

  Her head was resting on her one front leg, her nose facing the stone. Waiting.