Salvation (The Protectors 2)

I felt Bullet brush up against my leg and looked down to see his brown eyes watching me knowingly. My dog had a knack for sensing when my anxiety was starting to spike and had proven himself as more than just a pet over the years. I put down the knife I’d been using to chop vegetables and then slid down to sit on the floor, my back against the cabinet. Bullet instantly draped himself over my lap and tucked his head under my chin. I managed to stifle my tears but I didn’t hesitate to bury my face in his soft fur as I tried to get a hold of myself. The irony that the very dog Ronan had gifted me with shortly after Trace’s death was now my only source of comfort wasn’t lost on me.

I still remembered the day Ronan had shown up with the squirming bundle of brown and black fur. It had been the first time I’d seen him since I’d received word of Trace’s death two months earlier. The news had been devastating but even more so since I’d had to endure it by myself. My grandmother had come to live with me after my parents’ deaths and Trace’s return to the army, but within weeks of her arrival, I’d known that her mental health had started a rapid decline that took more and more of her from me each day. So when the Army Chaplain and representative had shown up to tell me Trace had died in a training exercise, my grandmother hadn’t understood who the men were and why they were there. I’d ended up settling her in front of the television and turned on the sports channel which, for some inexplicable reason, was the only thing that kept her occupied for any length of time. And then I’d had to listen as the men made their speech about how valued Trace’s service to our country had been. I hadn’t cared about any of that, of course. All I’d cared about was trying to figure out how I’d gone from having a near perfect life with parents who’d loved me and a brother I’d idolized, to being an orphan at the age of fourteen.

And then Ronan had shown up. He’d never explained why he hadn’t come sooner or why he hadn’t been the one to tell me about Trace and I hadn’t asked. I’d been too happy to see him to even care. He hadn’t hated me back then because the first thing I’d done when I’d opened the door and had seen him standing there, was wrap my arms around him and cry for a good ten minutes. The puppy had been squashed between us and it had spent the whole time licking my face as Ronan had held me and told me everything was going to be okay.

And for a few years, everything had been okay. Because despite the challenges of trying to deal with all the things that had happened, as well as my grandmother’s ailing health, I’d had the prospect of Ronan’s visits to look forward to. And although his visits weren’t regular or often, just knowing he was there if I needed him was enough to keep me going.

Until he wasn’t.

I still remembered the day I’d gambled everything…and lost.

I hadn’t planned on kissing Ronan…yes, I’d dreamed of doing it, but I hadn’t planned it. But when he’d wrapped his arms around me and said goodbye and that he’d be back soon, I’d felt his cheek brush mine as he began pulling away from me and a need unlike any I’d ever known had taken over me and I’d turned my head just enough to brush my lips over his. He’d frozen in place as I’d covered his entire mouth with mine and when I’d pulled back, I’d felt his fingers press into my back where he was holding me. I’d been sure it was a sign that he wanted me, had liked what I’d done, but then he’d slowly dropped his arms and stepped away from me. And the second I’d seen the look in his eyes, I’d known I’d fucked up.

He hadn’t been angry, hadn’t asked me why I’d done it or insisted it couldn’t happen again. In fact, he hadn’t said anything at all. He’d just looked at me like he didn’t know me and then he’d turned and walked out the door and I’d never heard from him again.

Until today.

Bullet’s wet tongue brought me back to the present and I shook my head as I gave him a pat. Footsteps in the hallway had me pushing the hundred-pound dog off me and I hurriedly climbed to my feet and went to the sink to wash my hands and run a towel over my face. I didn’t look at Ronan as he entered the kitchen, but I could hear Bullet’s nails clicking on the tile floor as he greeted the other man.