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A sudden knock at the door made her jolt. She whipped around to peek out the window, pulling back the curtain just enough to see a fleet of cars parked in front of the house. And a group of men in her yard.
Zak. Donovan. Sawyer. Pierce.
Her guys.
And all of their dogs, too. Zak’s mischievous Ranger. Donovan’s bundle of energy Spirit. Sawyer’s seeing-eye dog Zelda. And Pierce’s mop dog Raszta with his dreadlocks held out of his eyes in a jaunty ponytail.
Her heart warred between panic and excitement for several beats. God, she’d missed them all.
Shane and his scruffy dog, Clue, walked up from the base of the driveway with a man she didn’t recognize. He was the only one without a dog. Colorful tattoos covered every inch of skin on one arm. His other arm was a prosthetic.
That must be Rylan Cross, the new trauma counselor. Dr. Firestone’s replacement.
The panic won out with a sudden swell of fear. It was like a physical weight pressing down on her chest, squeezing the breath from her lungs. She inhaled sharply, trying to fill her lungs against the mounting pressure, and shrank away from the window.
Another knock rattled the door.
“Veronica?” Zak’s voice, muffled by the wood, did nothing to ease her growing panic. “Can you open the door?”
“We just want to talk.” It was Donovan this time, his voice as gentle as she’d ever heard it.
She glanced at Rebel and Alfie, both sets of eyes concerned and watching her. But Rebel wasn’t on alert, wasn’t growling, and her fur lay smoothly along her spine. If the dog wasn’t concerned, there was no reason for Veronica to be. Besides these guys were... well, not friends. She didn’t have friends anymore beyond Connelly. But they were acquaintances and she trusted them as much as she was able to trust a man.
Which really wasn’t a lot.
She first started attending the Paws for Vets group sessions at Dr. Firestone’s suggestion as exposure therapy to help her trust men again. But sitting there every week, listening to their stories, had only served to ignite the flames of her anxiety. Every tale, every scar, every sleepless night they shared only reinforced her fear—that men were only ever one step away from becoming monsters.
Taking a deep breath she moved to the door, cracking it open just enough to see the gathering on her porch. “What are you doing here?”
“Since you haven’t been able to come to us, we decided to come to you,” Zak said.
“We’ve missed you,” Sawyer added and Pierce, unable to speak due to the injuries he sustained in the military, nodded in agreement.
“They’ve been worried about you,” Rylan added, stepping forward. He had beautiful hazel eyes, earnest and kind, but they sent a shiver down her spine. Those were the eyes of a therapist, trained to dissect and analyze. And he wasn’t Dr. Firestone. She’d never be able to open up to this man like she had with Dr. Firestone. The thought of trying churned her stomach.
She swallowed hard. “I’m fine.”
“We don’t think you are,” Donovan said, his dark gaze meeting hers with all the empathy she’d come to expect from him. He was arguably the scariest looking of the group—heavily muscled and tattooed with skull-trimmed hair that highlighted the scars criss-crossing his head—but he was by far the biggest teddy bear. She liked him. She’d always liked him, even when she’d been intimidated by him.
“Look, guys, I appreciate what you’re doing, but...” she trailed off, unsure of what she had planned to say.
“We’re not here to push you into anything,” Rylan said gently.
“Then what are you here for?” The question came out with more edges than she’d intended.
Zak held out a hand to Rylan as if to say ‘let me handle this’ before turning back to her. “We’re here because we care.” His voice held an earnestness that surprised her. Zak was brash and unfiltered, the one who usually relished in pushing boundaries. But now, his eyes held a sincerity she hadn’t seen before, and it caught her off-guard. “And we only want to help in any way that we can.”
Sawyer’s normally cheerful face was serious when he added, “We’ve all been where you’re now... stuck in our own heads, lost in the past.”
“We know what it’s like to have the world shrink around you, become a cage of fear and memories.” Donovan’s voice was low and soothing. “We’ve been there. Believe me, Veronica, we know.”
Pierce signed something, his soft gaze seeming to see right through her, and she suddenly hated herself for not ever learning sign language so she could communicate with him. She looked to Donovan for the translation.
“He said it’s okay if you don’t trust us. We’re still going to be here for you, no matter what.”
Her eyes flooded with tears. Here they were, a group of rough-around-the-edges veterans who all had their own demons to battle, and they’d still come to help fight hers.
Zak bent down and for the first time she noticed the cooler sitting at his feet. “We brought some snacks, soda.” He chuckled when Ranger nudged the cooler. “Hang on, mutt.” He pushed the dog away. “Got stuff in here for the dogs, too. We thought we’d let them play while we hang out.”
