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He paused, listening intently for any sign that Veronica was hearing him, but only silence responded. Drawing in a deep breath, he pressed on.
“Your friends at Redwood Coast Rescue... they miss you, Vee. And there’s this new therapist, Rylan Cross, who started working with them recently. He’s an ex-SEAL, lost his arm during his last mission. He knows what it’s like to face darkness and come out the other side. Maybe better than anyone else. I believe he could help you, too.”
Still no response.
Was she even still there?
Connelly leaned his head against the door. “You don’t have to face your fears alone, Veronica. Let us in. Let us help you.”
Silence stretched on, punctuated only by Rebel’s questioning whine and the soft rustling of rain on leaves.
“Remember when we were kids, Vee?”
No answer.
“When we would ride our bikes so fast down the hills in the city, it felt like we could just take off and fly any second. I’d be scared, and you’d look back at me, give me that reckless grin of yours, and say, ‘Conn, let’s touch the sky.’ And some days—on those bikes, with the city blurring by—I really believed we could. You were always the brave one of the two of us. The one who’d charge headfirst into the unknown, daring me to follow. And I did every time because when you’re with someone as fearless as you, it’s hard not to catch some of that courage.”
Was that a sob? Or was he hearing things?
“You were always my protector,” he continued. “Those bullies didn’t stand a chance against you. I was so small and scrawny back then, but you... you were—” His voice broke, and he cleared his throat. “You are my hero, Veronica.”
More silence, heavy and suffocating.
He paused and wiped away a stray droplet that had slid down his cheek, whether from the rain or his own eyes, he couldn’t tell. “Let me be your protector now.”
Then, finally, barely audible, came a choked response: “Conn, I can’t… I can’t do this. Please leave. Please.”
Fuck. He was making her cry. That was the last thing he wanted to do, and he pushed to his feet.
“All right,” he said after a moment. “I’ll leave... but so you know, Rebel will stay here for a while. She could use a friend, too.”
He glanced down at Rebel. Her head was cocked in question. “I’ll be back, girl.” Unclipping the leash from her collar, he gave the dog an affectionate pat on the head and ruffled her ears. “Stay.”
He walked into the rain without looking back.
But a second later, as he opened his car door, he heard the scrambling of paws on the driveway behind him. He turned and spotted Rebel racing toward him, her tongue out in a happy grin.
Okay. She didn’t understand “stay.” Good to know.
And, shit. Hadn’t Zak warned she liked to run off? He probably shouldn’t have expected her to just sit on the porch in an unfamiliar place.
He sighed and clipped her leash back on, then opened the back door of his car to let her in. “Sorry, girl. I’m new to dog ownership. I guess we both have things to work on.”
He glanced back at Veronica’s house in time to catch her staring out at them with big, haunted eyes from behind the door. The moment she realized he was watching, she slammed the door shut. He was too far away to hear all of those locks clicking, but his imagination filled in the sound with finality. He sighed again and dragged a hand over his face, wiping away the rain.
This was going to be harder than he thought.
chapter six
He was back.
Veronica scowled out the window as Connelly and the massive dog appeared on the path. The Doberman trotted a few paces ahead of him with a stick—no, that was a small tree with the root ball still attached—in her mouth. She looked pleased with herself.
Conn had a leather laptop bag slung over one shoulder and a thermos in his hand. He looked tired. His dark hair was messy, like he’d spent the entire night dragging his hands through it. She could picture him at his computer, frustrated as he struggled to corral the people and images in his head into a story.
How many times had she seen him like that over the years?
Countless.
