by Kate Kinsley
Charger tilts his head to the side, peering at both Hope and me. Lifting his hind legs to stand, he limps to my side, then presses his body into my legs. “I got you, boy.” I ruffle his ears. “I don’t care what it takes. We’ll do anything you need us to do. Charger was once a member of my team; I know better than anyone what he’s been through. And I never leave a man—or dog—behind.”
Leaving Charger at RCMP headquarters had been a tough pill to swallow. A single morning around the hundred-pound dog, and I’m hooked. His eyes projected a long history of horrors—some of which I’d been around to see at his side—and I want nothing more than to erase them. Maybe he could erase some of mine too in the process.
On our way to the hotel, I pray to a higher power above to make sure Charger came home to us. I don’t care what kind of inspections or interviews I have to pass; I won’t quit until the K9 is adequately looked after.
“He’s depressed,” I ponder aloud, as we enter our hotel room. “Just like me.” I let my ass fall to the edge of the bed.
Hope comes to stand between my legs, her hands reaching around my shoulders, and hugs me to her.
“I saw that,” she whispers into the crown of my head, then kisses it.
Pulling back, I look up at her. “Aside from a life with you, or to get rid of these seizures, I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more than to bring him home with us, babe.”
She nods. “We’ll do what we can. By the time we get home tomorrow, we should have all the necessary paperwork in our email, and we’ll get things started.”
The glimmer of steely determination in her eyes has me exclaiming, “I fucking love you, Hope Stillwell,” right before I round her waist with my arms and wrestle her giggling form to the bed. “Let me show you how much.”
Chapter Five
Waking up this morning, I feel like I have something more to look forward to—a new lease of sorts—an outlook that will bring me more freedom and help Hope to not worry as much. Having a naked woman draped over my chest goes a long way to making me smile too.
Running a hand over the soft skin of my woman’s back, Hope stirs.
Hands caress my torso before her lips press a kiss to my chest. Sleepy eyes meet my alert ones, hers clouding over with lust.
Tilting my head toward hers, her chin lifts in time for my mouth to capture hers.
She moans into my mouth as I roll her to her back, nestling myself between her thighs.
Propped over her on one arm, I run my opposite hand down the side of her body, toward her heat.
“Good morning, babe.” I plunge a finger inside her, causing her back to arch up, her pussy pressing against my hand, and a gasp to push through her lips.
“Fuck, Carson.”
“Yes,” I hiss, replacing my hand with my dick.
There was no better way to start a day in my book.
I walk out of the clinic and into the waiting room to find Hope on her laptop, furiously typing on the keyboard, a bright smile on her face. Catching the corner of her eye, I’m nearly blinded by the sheer happiness in her gaze as it meets mine.
Closing the top on the computer, she hurries to put it into the messenger bag she likes to protect it in.
“All done?”
My lips quirk up at the edges, but I’m not really smiling. If I’m being honest, I’m overwhelmed and a little nervous, not to mention a little annoyed at the fact I’m about to add yet another pill to my daily regimen of medications.
The smile on my woman’s face this morning, and yet again just now, however, goes a long way to remind me that I’m doing this for us. This is something I can fix, and dammit, I’m going to do it.
“Yeah.” I wave the printed prescription for Cypralex and reach out with my free hand to take hers. “Let’s get out of here and go home. We’ve got some forms to fill out and see about a dog.” I wink.
The woman looks as if she’s the cat that ate the canary.
“What’s that about?” I eventually ask, as we’re once again back on the highway for northern Ontario.
“W-what?” Hope’s eyes remain on the road.
“That look you had when I mentioned the forms for Charger.”
She shrugs her shoulders. “Nothing.”
I chuckle. “Bullshit. Out with it, woman.”
She sighs. “Forms are already submitted. I checked the email and they were there, so I filled them out for you and had just clicked send when you came out.”
My eyes nearly bulge out of my head. “That quick?”
She shook her head. “The forms, yeah. There was the general application for him, then there was a pre-adoption consultation form with all sorts of questions like how long we were debating adopting, blah, blah…blah, and—”
“Shit!” I run a hand down my face and look over at the woman next to me, slightly surprised she is so cavalier about things. “What did you write?”
She gives me a quick look and winks. “I may have embellished a little, but the fact that you’ve worked with a K9 unit multiple times over, Charger specifically, should go a long way no matter if you’ve ever had handling experience. I also added that upon your reunion yesterday, Charger took to you like glue. I doubt my medical opinion would suffice, but I’ve kind of stuck the Corporal in the middle, letting them know he could testify on your behalf as to the bond you seem to already have with him.”
Letting my head fall to the headrest, I close my eyes. “Jesus!”
Hope’s hand lands on my thigh and squeezes. “Hey…” She waits until I turn my head to look at her. “I’m pulling all the stops here to get us Charger, honey. I’ll be damned if he goes to someone else.”
Grabbing her hand, I lift it to my lips and kiss her knuckles. “Absolutely amazing, that’s what you are, Hope. I love you.”
Her hand squeezes mine. “Love you too, Carson Hale.”
The following week flew by in a whirlwind.
I’d been in contact with the RCMP as well as AMK9, the contracting company that had originally supplied Charger and his handler, Derek, to my unit overseas.
Although AMK9 had discharged their dog to the RCMP, I have to say they still had a vested interest in who their former K9 would be retiring with. The RCMP was an easy sell in comparison, and I suspect Corporal Hawkins had a great deal to do with greasing the proverbial wheels. As for AMK9, they’d had some research to do, but the fact I previously had a good rapport with Derek Stringer, their former contractor, and I was able to provide them with necessary feedback from my former employer, I hung up with the Constellis Company on board with my efforts.
Next up would be an assessment of our living arrangements which I had no real concern about, aside from the missing fence—there was none—and that fact worried me in a sense, not because Charger would be a flight risk, but more because he was trained to protect his handler from anything perceived as a threat. We don’t have any real neighbors, and wherever I go, Charger would follow. He’d be my emotional support animal, and in Canada, so long as I had a letter stating my need for one by a licensed medical health professional, there’d be no disputing having him at my side. Still, I’d have to bring the fence thing up with Hope when she got home from work tonight, because the lack of one isn’t going to be the only factor getting me declined in adopting the only dog I’m interested in.
A few days later, on Hope’s second of three consecutive days off, we were surprised by a black Suburban I didn’t recognize, pulling up our driveway.
“Can I help you?” Setting my drill and fence board down, I approach the driver who exits his vehicle.
“Captain Hale?” I nod at the man who held himself with a composure I recognize immediately. If I were a betting man, I could wager he’d seen some time in the military. “Constable Hank Titus.” He extends his hand in greeting and a bark follows from the inside of his ride the moment my hand grasps his.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“We’re here for an inspection.”
I turn to Hope, who�
��s just reached my side. “This is Hope Stillwell, my girlfriend.” The two shake hands. “Constable, I was under the impression that this process would take a hell of a lot longer.”
“Hmm. Nice place you two have here. New?”
“Moved in a few months ago, as a matter-of-fact,” Hope says, then adds, “Carson’s done most of the work himself with the help of his brother-in-law’s contracting company.” The man’s head bobs in approval.
Another bark.
“Right. Got someone who wants to see ya.”
He turns toward the rear driver side door before I can ask and opens it, only for Charger to come bounding out, tail wagging, tongue lolling to one side. It’s as if the dog is gracing me with his own doggy grin, boasting, “Surprise!”
“Come,” I tell him, and he does just that, sitting at my feet without my say so, facing me, his eyes trusting and awaiting my next command. I crouch down and give his head a good rub. “Hey, boy,” I greet him good and proper. “It’s good to see you, buddy.” I tilt my head, so my forehead touches his.
“Honey?” Hope calls to me.
With Charger leaning into me, I turn my head to look up at my woman. “Yeah?”
“I kind of did a thing yesterday while you were out,” she confesses, looking a little sheepish, despite her eyes having a subtle look of pride in them.
“Captain,” the man interjects. “What your lady is saying is, I’m not really here for an inspection.”
My head turns to the constable. “You’re not?”
He shakes his head indicating the negative. “Hope and I met yesterday via videoconference.”
“I showed him around the house, the stuff we’ve already picked up for Charger.” Hope is practically vibrating with her excitement.
“You’re shitting me, right?” is the only thing I can formulate.
“They’re happy about what we’ve done…what we’re doing, and the Constable had some family business further north and offered to drop Charger off on the way.”
“Gotta say, Captain—”
“Hale or Carson, please.” I straighten to my full height, Hope cuddling into my side with an arm around my waist. Charger sits at my feet, leaning into my legs.
“Carson,” the man begins, Titus’ eyes moving between the dog and me. “Gotta say I’ve wanted to meet the man who Charger took to immediately. He’s a tough nut to crack, that one. I’ve seen him work with Stanton, and their relationship was touch-and-go for quite some time before they learned to trust each other.”
“So what’s next?” Hope asks. “Did you want a formal showing of the premises?”
Titus smiles at her, shaking his head. “I’ve got some paperwork for Hale to sign, but beyond that, I’ll be on my way.”
Mindlessly, my fingers run through the fur at the top of Charger’s head, Titus catches the movement and smirks, mumbling, “Amazing. Now, let’s get this done, shall we? I think I’ve taken up enough of your time, and I’ve got quite a bit of road to cover before I get to where I’m headed if I want to be there in time for dinner. I haven’t had my mother’s pot roast in far too long.”
Chapter Six
Charger took to his new digs quite swimmingly over the next week. I took time every day to work with him, learning his response to my commands. It was hard to believe the Malinois was anything older than five, honestly. The amount of energy he had had Hope and I busy with burning him out.
He never strays very far from me, unless Hope is in the kitchen, cooking like she is right now. I catch her sneaking him a piece of carrot, followed by a few snap peas, mumbling sweet nothings in that baby-talk tone she seems to have adopted for him.
“You’re ruining him.” I smile at the sight before me, leaning against the wall that bears entrance to the kitchen.
Hope turns to look at me with a grin. “He deserves a treat after a great job earlier. How are you feeling?”
A few hours ago, I experienced another seizure. To be honest, the increase in medication dosage had worked in decreasing the frequency and severity of them over the last few weeks, but this last one was telling me that just like the other times, the dose was failing to work for the long term. With a single bark, as he’d done the few times I’ve had an episode since his arrival, Charger had alerted Hope and I about my impending seizure so I could get to a safe place.
I had been so exhausted after my latest episode that I’d had to take a nap, falling asleep with Charger draped over my thighs, keeping vigil. Two hours later, as I woke, the bugger was nowhere to be found.
“Still tired, but better.” I approach her, circling my arms around her waist and kissing her forehead once she turns to face me.
Charger groans from his lying down position, getting our attention in time to witness him lift a paw and cover his nose.
“Get used to it, bud,” I rumble. “We love her.”
His head lifts and tilts to the side, his tongue lolling out as if he’s grinning.
“I know you love me. Charger though, I think it’s all about the food. He loves you more.” Hope winks, then pecks my jaw. “Now both of you, get out so I can get dinner on the table.”
A month has gone by, and life has definitely changed for me, but I’ve also noticed Hope has had an added bounce to her step as well. This fact alone goes a long way to take a huge weight off my shoulders where guilt is concerned.
For once, despite the seizures, which seemed to have stabilized a little to a few occurrences per week—most likely because I wasn’t feeling as stressed lately, not to mention more well-rested with my nightmares having lessened in intensity—I felt closer to my old normal than I ever have.
The plus side to all things is that earlier today, I got a call from Dr Bourque’s office. Hope had filled the necessary forms to see if I would qualify for a grant from the Ottawa Hospital for the Vagus Nerve Stimulation therapy I was interested in. I had no clue there’d been additional forms—the vixen had hidden that from me—just as she had the home tour to ensure we got to adopt Charger. Imagine my surprise when I found out the hospital had a special program for veterans that would cover up to fifty percent of the cost of my implant unit. Too bad my line of credit was about to take a hit of epic proportions, regardless of the relief the hospital is providing—a fifteen thousand dollar hit to be exact—good fucking thing I had been relatively debt-free with the exception of our shared mortgage.
Sure, I have a small nest egg, but that had dwindled some with purchasing furniture for our home and covering the necessary renovations that were needed to get Hope’s and my house up to our liking.
As it stands, I have an appointment with Dr. Bourque in two weeks’ time to have the pre-op visit on one day, the surgery on the next. It was a same day, in-and-out kind of deal—barring no complications—and it couldn’t happen fast enough in my opinion.
“Nervous?” Hope clenches my hand as we sit in the waiting area of the Civic Campus of the Ottawa Hospital, waiting for the nurse to call my name.
I nod. “More excited to live a more normal life to be honest. I’m worried it won’t—”
“Don’t.” She tugs at my hand, so I turn my gaze toward her. “Don’t think like that. It will.”
I smirk, giving her swollen lips a chaste kiss. She bites them when she’s nervous, hence the swelling. “Now look who’s the optimistic one.”
“The studies are good,” she states. “I’ve read them. Just think about what kind of freedom you’ll have between the VNS and Charger. You’ll be able to use that magnet whenever Charger alerts to a seizure, or whenever you feel one coming on, and get rid of it, or at least decrease its severity.”
“From your lips to God’s ears, babe.” I let go of her hand to wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her into my side to relax both of us.
“Mr. Hale?” a middle-aged man calls for me.
“Here.” I get to my feet, pulling Hope up to hers to stand in front of me. “I love you, Hope.”
“Love you, Carson Hale.” She g
ives me a wobbly smile.
“I’ll be back in no time.” I wink, then pull her face to mine, pausing to look into her eyes. “Wait for me?”
Her eyes close, a single tear escaping. “Always and forever, honey,” she whispers, as I swipe my thumb at the droplet.
Closing the distance between our lips, I take her mouth in an aggressive fashion. I want to be able to feel her, taste her when they put me to sleep. To take her with me in that dreamless land I’ll be in for the next two hours, as they proceed to stick something the size of a silver dollar under the skin of my upper chest, and run wires through me, which will be attached to an electrode connected to my vagus nerve.
“Forever yours, baby,” I whisper, letting her go to follow the nurse who has a shit-eating grin splayed across his face.
“Sweet woman you got there.” He chuckles. “You married to that beauty?”
“Not yet. If she’ll have me, after all of this is said and done and I’m on the right side of these fucking seizures, then yeah,” I tell him. “So long as she doesn’t have to take care of me like some invalid, I’ll be ready to give her the world.”
“Smart man if you do that.” He grins and hands me a couple pieces of linen. “These are two gowns. Put one with the opening in the front, the other over it with the opening in the back. There are bags in the change room. Put your personal belongings, socks and shoes in one and bring them along when you’re done. No underwear please.”
Chapter Seven
It’s been a month since I’ve had the Vegas Nerve Stimulation implant surgery. A month of near-bliss really. The frequency and severity of my seizures have decreased slightly. Not by much in the number of episodes, but the blackouts are incredibly short.
As a matter-of-fact, Hope and I had gone out to lunch today and I had a mild one right there at the table. Charger, who had come along with us, had alerted mildly by pushing himself into my legs, laying his head on my lap. I’d taken my magnet out, held it to the right side of my neck and I swear, I’d been alert the entire time during the episode. Heck, I even managed to recall some of what Hope had been saying. That level of seizure experience was a first for me.