Operation K-9 Brothers Series, Book 1

by Sandra Owens

  The customer tilted her head, her gaze on Nichole’s watery eyes. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. My allergies are killing me today.” She just had to get through the day, and then she could go home and have that much needed meltdown.

  The rest of the day seemed to last forever, but it was finally time to close up. She debated going by Jack’s house one last time, then decided it was up to him to make a move...or not.

  When she got home, she ignored Mark trying to talk to her, ignored her dog for the first time since she’d gotten him, went into her room, closed the door behind her, kicked her shoes off, got in bed, pulled the covers over her head, and quit trying to pretend her heart wasn’t broken.

  Mark knocked on the door. “Nic, are you okay?”

  No, she wasn’t. She cleared her throat. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

  “Have you talked to Jack?”

  “No. Have you?”

  “I’ve tried, but he’s still not calling me back. I think we should go to his house.”

  “Have at it.”

  “Don’t you want to come with me?”

  “I’m really tired, Mark.”

  “Oh, okay. Want me to make you something to eat?”

  “No thanks.” All she wanted was to hide under the covers and for the world to go away. Rambo whined as he scratched on the door.

  “Can I let him in?”

  She sighed. “Yeah, and then go away.”

  Rambo bounded in as soon as Mark opened the door. He jumped on the bed and tried to lick her face off. She buried her nose in his fur. At least her dog loved her. The meltdown she’d been holding at bay all day broke free and her tears were hot on her cheeks.

  Gutted. That was what she was. Jack might as well have carved her heart out with a rusty knife.

  * * *

  She couldn’t sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, Nichole saw Jack’s smile. She heard his silly jokes, saw his lopsided grin when he knew he’d amused her. She felt his hands glide over her skin as he stared down at her with heat in his blue eyes, and in the deep hours of the night, alone in her bed and heartsick, she grieved for what would never be.

  When light from the sunrise filtered around the edges of her window shades, she put on her ratty pottery clothes, and after taking Rambo out, she headed for her studio. She was running low on her glitter fairies, so she decided it was a good time to make some more.

  Or not.

  “Damn it,” she muttered when she messed up another one. Coming in here had been a mistake. All she could think about was the night she and Jack had recreated the scene from Ghost. The only thing she’d accomplished the past two hours was being even more miserable.

  Her eyes burned from the ocean of tears she’d shed, and her throat was raw. Angry at Jack and even angrier with herself for falling in love with him, she grabbed the fairy she’d messed up and threw it just as her brother walked in. It hit his chest, then shattered when it fell to the concrete floor.

  “Whoa!” He picked up the largest piece. “Didn’t like this one, huh?”

  “How’d you guess?”

  “Seemed pretty obvious. Jack’s here. He wants to talk to you.”

  “Jack?” Her heart bounced madly in her chest.

  “Yeah. I didn’t tell him about the recording. Thought maybe you’d want to.”

  “I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Fortunately, she could get to her bedroom without passing through the living room. In the bathroom, she cringed when she looked in the mirror. The few minutes turned into twenty—the time it took to get the tangles out of her hair, put on a little makeup to try to conceal her puffy eyes, and a quick change into her favorite sundress. If this was going to be the last time she saw Jack, then she wanted him to see what he was going to be missing.

  She took a deep breath as she walked down the hallway. Jack stood at the window, looking out, and she wanted to go to him, wished he would wrap his arms around her and promise that they would be all right. Even though it felt like an ice pick had pierced her heart, she kept her distance.

  “Hello, Nichole,” he said before he turned to face her. “I should have talked to you before now.”

  “Yes, you should have. At least returned my calls. I know you’ve had an awful week, but I have to say it’s not fun being ghosted.” Mark wasn’t in sight, so she guessed he’d taken Rambo for a walk, which she appreciated. “I—”

  He held up a hand. “I really am sorry about that, but you’re better off without me.”

  Men were idiots. “Don’t you think that should be my decision? Unless you just don’t want to be with me anymore.”

  “I’m sorry, but...” He stared down at the floor, then lifted his gaze to hers. “I don’t have a job or won’t soon. Not that it’ll matter since I’ll be in prison. The thought of you having to visit your boyfriend in prison...” A visible shudder ran through him. “I just can’t do that to you. You deserve better.”

  “Stop saying that. Besides, you’re not—”

  “Okay, but it’s true.”

  The ache inside her turned to anger. “You know what? You’re right. I deserve a man who sees me as a partner, someone to stand by his side through the good times and the bad. I need to matter to him. So just take yourself off and go feel sorry for yourself.” She turned away from him. “You know the way out,” she said, throwing his own words back at him.

  His shoulders slumped, and he nodded, then left. She should have told him he wasn’t going to prison, that Lane had confessed that it wasn’t Jack who’d hurt him. She’d let her anger get the best of her.

  She walked to the window and peered out. As his truck backed out of her driveway, leaving her house for the last time, taking her heart with him, she buried her face in her hands and whispered his name.

  “Jack.”

  * * *

  Walking out the door of Nichole’s house, knowing he’d never see her again, was the hardest thing Jack had ever done. Facing the charges against him, missing his team... Those things were nothing compared to losing Nichole.

  He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forget the hurt in her eyes. He was an ass. He was right, though, and she’d figure out soon enough that she was better off without him. And if the reverse didn’t apply to him, so be it. That was what love was, wasn’t it? Doing what was best for the other person, even if it meant sacrificing your own happiness?

  His first impulse was to get drunk enough to deaden the pain in his chest, but the last time he’d done that, he’d ended up in jail, so it probably wasn’t a good idea.

  Since heading to a bar was out, he turned his truck for home. He had a mission to complete before his trial started, and that was getting Trucker ready for his new job. He spent the morning working with the dog. Fortunately, Trucker was not only intelligent but eager to please, both him and Dakota.

  An idea was brewing, though, something that would enable him to make a contribution to the men and women he would always consider his brothers and sisters, the military heroes who were having trouble adjusting to civilian life, whether from loss of limbs or suffering PTSD. It was a known fact that therapy dogs had an extraordinary ability to ease stress and anxiety, even to the extent of helping to reduce suicides in military personnel.

  He was good at training dogs, and it was something he loved. He’d tried to think of other jobs he could pursue, but nothing appealed to him. He was a trained warrior and a dog handler. It was all he knew. Sitting in an office, whether in the public sector or a desk job in the military, would be torture at its worst. He could get a job in construction or the like, but that wouldn’t make him happy to get up in the mornings.

  The more he thought about it, the more it interested him, to the point that he started researching therapy dog training as soon as he finished his session with Trucker. Although he knew how to train dogs for war, therapy training
was different. Tomorrow morning he’d go talk to Ron, see if Ron would agree to train and certify him after he got out of jail or prison, or at least recommend someone who would.

  By lunchtime he’d decided on a name and mission statement. His excitement growing, he logged on to his computer and drafted a logo.

  Operation K-9 Brothers

  Rescue dogs making life better for veterans in need.

  Veterans giving rescue dogs a new beginning.

  He’d need to find a graphic designer to improve on it, but he liked it. Fortunately, overhead wouldn’t be out of his reach to start. He’d enlisted in the navy the day after getting his associate degree. It had only taken two years to decide college wasn’t for him. Other than minor expenses during his twelve-year stint in the military, he’d been able to bank a good chunk of his pay.

  Eventually, if he succeeded and was able to grow Operation K-9 Brothers, he’d need to look for sponsorships and donations, but that was down the road. To start, he needed to find a dog or two with the potential to become therapy companions and locate a place to train them. In the beginning, if he had to, he could use his yard, but the grassy area was small and not ideal.

  After throwing together a quick sandwich, he ate it standing at the counter, eager to get back to his computer and investigate what dogs were available for adoption in local shelters. He identified several possibilities, but a personal visit would be in order before making a final decision. He was getting ahead of himself, though. Until he got certified, he couldn’t move forward. Unfortunately, patience wasn’t one of his virtues.

  Tomorrow he’d talk to Ron about certification, and then he’d check out some dogs at the...

  This was all pointless if he was headed for prison. He was getting excited over something that was probably never going to happen. Tossing his pen down, he paced the confines of his living room. How was he supposed to survive being locked up? He wasn’t sure he could.

  Dakota whined, drawing his attention. “No, I’m not okay,” he told her. What was going to happen to his dog? He needed to make arrangements for her, not be dreaming about a future he’d never have. Who could he ask to take her? Just thinking about giving her away like she was a piece of furniture he no longer wanted made him want to put his fist through the wall. She wouldn’t understand his abandoning her.

  Because he’d made a stupid decision to get drunk, ending up at the wrong place at the wrong time, he was losing everything. Nichole, his dog, his team, his freedom. Not only that, but the nightmares that had eased off since he and Nichole had been spending their nights together had returned with a vengeance, starting again with his arrest.

  How had his life gone to hell so damn fast?

  Running was his answer lately to when the panic threatened to drown him, so he headed for the door. His phone buzzed. Taking it from his pocket, he saw his attorney’s name on the screen.

  “Ms. Boyd, I’m hoping you’re not calling with more bad news, although that seems to be the way things are going these days.”

  “Then you’ll be happy with this phone call. I’ve been in court all day, or I would have gotten in touch sooner. Can you be in my office first thing in the morning?”

  “Is that all you’re going to tell me?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry if I’m being mysterious, but you need to hear what I have for yourself.”

  Hear? What did that mean? “Yeah, okay, I’ll be there.”

  Jack stared blankly at his phone’s screen after disconnecting. She’d said he’d be happy...the only things that would make him happy were if Nichole was in his life, he didn’t have to give his dog away, and he wasn’t going to prison. As for never being able to return to his team, he’d made peace with that. It was what it was, and a SEAL sucked it up, and then put one foot in front of the other and moved forward.

  Was whatever his attorney planned to tell him something that would show him a door out of his personal hell? Too afraid to hope, he went for his run.

  * * *

  “Wow,” Jack said, after listening to the recording of Gregory admitting to who’d actually put him in the hospital. He lifted his gaze to his attorney. “Does that mean the charges against me have been dropped?”

  She smiled. “Not yet, but they will be. I’ll make sure of that.”

  He closed his eyes and blew out a huge breath. “Okay. Okay then.” He hadn’t dared to hope that was her good news, and the profound relief made him feel...giddy. Yeah, that was a good word for the happiness bubbling inside him.

  Except... “That was Mark Masters’s voice. Did you put him up to that?” He didn’t at all like the idea of Mark being anywhere near the man, even if it was to prove Jack’s innocence.

  “No, I wasn’t aware of this until after the fact, when Mark brought me the thumb drive.”

  In that case, Jack saw Nichole’s hand in this. As much as he wanted his innocence proven, it wasn’t at the cost of putting Nichole or Mark in danger of Gregory’s retribution when he found out what they’d done.

  There was only one thing to do about that, and that was to protect them from whatever revenge the man cooked up. That meant inserting himself back in their lives, meaning he had a lot of groveling to do.

  “Where do we go from here?” he asked.

  “I’ve made a copy of the recording, and it’s being delivered to Detective Margolis as we speak. He can’t ignore Mr. Gregory’s confession, and I believe the charges against you will be dropped in the next day or two.”

  “Great and thank you.”

  Ms. Boyd smiled. “I didn’t do much. It’s Mark Masters who you really need to thank.”

  Oh, he would, and then right after, he’d have a few words for Nichole’s brother for putting himself on Gregory’s bad side.

  He’d woken up this morning believing life as he knew it was over, and then as fast as all the shit had been dumped on him, it was disappearing just as quickly. What a day! After leaving his attorney’s office, he headed to Nichole’s, and assuming she would be at the River Arts District, he hoped to catch Mark alone. He had not only let Nichole down, but Mark as well, and he needed to make things right with both.

  As for his future, he now had possibilities, ones he couldn’t wait to make happen. The one fear left was that Nichole wouldn’t forgive him. After the way he’d treated her, he couldn’t blame her if she didn’t, but he let himself hope that she eventually would. Sitting in that jail cell, thinking he’d lost her, he’d accepted that he loved her. He’d known before then that he was falling for her, but he’d raced past falling without even realizing it.

  At Nichole’s house, Jack rang the doorbell. Mark’s car was in the driveway, so he hoped that meant her brother was home. He was.

  “Hey, can we talk?” he said when Mark opened the door.

  “A little late for that, don’t you think?” Mark said before disappearing back inside the house.

  He’d left the door open, though, so Jack took that to mean he could come in. He followed Mark to the kitchen, where the kid resumed eating his half-finished lunch while ignoring Jack.

  If he were Nichole’s brother, he’d probably do worse than ignore the man who’d hurt her, so he didn’t take offense. He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he leaned back against the kitchen counter.

  “I messed up,” he said. An understatement, that. “First, I need to apologize to you.” Mark kept on eating, ignoring him. Since he deserved the silent treatment and more, he continued on. “I’m sorry, Mark. I have no excuse for treating you or Nichole the way I did.”

  Mark finally looked at him. “I don’t care about me. You hurt her. She tried to hide it, but she cried.”

  Guilt settled heavy in his chest. “I was an asshole, and I’m sorry for that.” There wasn’t anything else he could say to undo the way he’d acted.

  “It’s not me you need to be apologizing to. Look, I get that
it sucks you won’t be able to keep on being a SEAL...” Mark frowned. “That’s what it was all about, right?”

  “Yeah. I didn’t take the news well, and it was stupid to think getting drunk was the answer. Believe me, I will apologize to Nichole twenty-nine ways to Sunday, but I also wanted to set things right with you.”

  “I don’t know if she’ll forgive you.”

  “That’s a possibility, but I’m hoping that she will.” Hoping with every beat of his heart.

  “Do you love her?”

  “Yes.” Although he would have preferred to tell Nichole that first, he wasn’t going to deny it.

  “Okay, we’re cool, you and me.” Mark narrowed his eyes. “This time. You do anything like that again, especially to my sister, and all bets are off.”

  “Got it.” Jack hid his smile. The man-child was growing up. “There is one other thing I have to say, and that has to do with Lane Gregory. I appreciate what you did, getting that recording, believe me. But you shouldn’t have because as soon as Gregory finds out what you did, he’s going to come after you.”

  Jack didn’t miss the fear that flashed in Mark’s eyes, and he was glad that the kid was smart enough to recognize that Gregory was bad business.

  “I know, and I’ve been thinking about that.” He met Jack’s gaze straight on. “It was the right thing to do, so I won’t say it was a mistake. Probably the best thing is for me to head back to my parents in Florida, but I won’t leave Nichole to deal with him alone.”

  “She won’t be because she’ll have me, and trust me, I’m fully capable of protecting her. It would be a whole lot easier to do that if I didn’t have to worry about protecting you, too.”

  “What if she doesn’t want you around anymore? How will you protect her then?”

  “Let’s hope that I can get back in her good graces, but if not, I’ll shadow her until I’m sure Gregory’s not a threat anymore. She’ll never know I’m there.” She was safe as long as Gregory was still in the hospital, but when he got out, to protect her, Jack would camp out in her yard if he had to.