Page 12 of Temptation On Ice

“Lux and Thorn are really coming along,” Rowan says, falling back to walk next to me as he watches the big German Shepherd and the black lab that are running through the trees, chasing each other. Thorn is the stud we use for breeding service dogs with Ivy, and we’ve had some incredible companions come from their litters. I got Lux to train for the Atlanta PD to be a K9 officer, but ultimately decided I couldn’t send her to the force. Lux is from the same line as my former partner, Titan, and she has a lot of his characteristics, though she’s not exactly like him. No dog will ever be like him. He was one of a kind, and I owe my life to him. Lux glances back at me, then bolts forward, looking so much like Titan that I’m transported to another time, and another place instantly with a surge of memories so viscerally real I can’t tell them apart from my actual reality. My brain conjures up the pattern for the next inevitability, and I’m lost to it.

A cold sweat slicks my skin despite the heat and humidity of the September air in the surrounding woods. My vision grows blurry, no longer seeing the trees and brush of my property. I’m in the urban sprawl of Atlanta, in a dark corner of the city. The sounds of birds, dogs, and people fade around me as the pounding of shoes slapping along pavement becomes audible. My throat grows raw as I suck desperate breaths into my lungs while I give chase, screaming out Stop. All this assaults my ears between bouts of ringing silence.

STOP.

Silence.

Shots crack the stillness.

One-two. Silence.

Running. Fass.

One-two. Silence.

My screams pierce the night air.

Pain. So much pain, it’s ripping me apart.

“You okay, Tuck?” Rowan asks.

I look up and realize I’ve stopped walking. My vision clears slowly, the buildings and pursuit fading to reveal the familiar woods around me. The sounds of my everyday life replace those of the distant chase and lethal shots to remind me that I left the demons of my mistakes, my old life, and memories that haunt me, in the past where they belong. Where I left Titan.

Now, I’m just an asshole on my knees in the dirt, hands shaking as I hold pressure on the phantom wound on my abdomen, staring after the dogs as they chase each other through the trees. I was only lost in my thoughts, falling into the dark memories that I’ve tried to run from, push down, forget. Yet, those memories continue to come back so vividly to sucker punch me in the gut when I least expect it, anyway. I drag a clammy hand down my face. It comes away sweaty, the scent thick from fear, despair, anguish, hatred.

“Fi—” I clear my throat to get the words out. “I’m fine,” I manage weakly.

Rowan kneels next to me as Hayden backtracks to meet up with us, the dogs at his heels. Lux noses into my shoulder, tracing her snout along my chest, finding my hand that still lingers just above my left hip, and licks my fingers. She lies next to me and puts her head on my folded knees, wiggling her snout under my hand until I absently stroke her head. Heat pricks the backs of my eyes, and my chest constricts further as the dog I’ve been training to pick up on PTSD signs and work as a service dog is now responding to me without a command. Fuck.

Hayden and Rowan place comforting hands on my back and shoulder, giving me space to breathe and their comforting presence as I shake off the dregs of the memories and gain control of my racing heart. They’ve both seen me break down, lose my shit, and worse in the two years they’ve worked with me, so this is tame in comparison. It’s still embarrassing as hell to have my little episodes in front of the guys I employ. I shake my head and blow out an unsteady breath, straightening from my collapsed position in the dirt, and standing up so their well-meaning hands fall from me.

“I’m okay,” I assure them, running a hand over Lux’s head. I’m reassuring her as much as I am myself and the guys. “Let’s head back to the barn. I’m useless today.” I stand, dusting the dirt off my knees before setting off back down the trail.

“The flashbacks still coming out of nowhere?” Rowan asks quietly as he falls into step beside me. He was a friend before I started Combat Companions and has seen my pain and progress.

I met him while working with the Georgia Bureau of Investigation's body recovery K9 unit. He worked full-time with the GBI, while I was only called in when they needed extra K9 support for a search. He’s a good dude who’s seen some grisly stuff throughout his time in the military and then with the GBI. Rowan was more than willing to join me out here in the woods when I started this business, saying he needed a change of pace just like I did. Seeing the worst of humanity regularly can wear on your soul. Dogs helped him heal after his service overseas, where he was stationed in Afghanistan with his Ranger unit. He’s been an enormous help with the veteran portion of the business, knowing the ins and outs of the military and how we can best connect our dogs with the right people.

His hand landing on my shoulder brings me back to his question, and I look over quickly. “Here and there,” I answer honestly. “Some things just trigger them, and I can’t anticipate it. It fucks with me, man. I just want to be normal.”

“Come on, we both know there’s no such thing as normal. Everyone’s messed up, and they’re all just faking it, so it looks like there’s this status quo we’re supposed to be achieving. You should come to Group with me.” He squeezes my neck before he moves his hand back to my shoulder while the offer hovers between us.

I shake my head. “That’s not for me. I don’t like sharing in front of everyone. I’ll work through it with my therapist, behind a computer screen in the comfort of my own home like the true closed-off man I am.”

He chuckles at my self-deprecating humor. “The offer stands, and I’m always here if you want to talk to someone other than your therapist,” Rowan assures me before letting his hand and the conversation drop.

Six

Sebastian

“Dad, when can we see the puppy again? It’s been forever,” Enzo whines as I strap him into his booster seat in the back of my Porsche Cayenne. He’s been asking about the dang dog since family day over a week ago, and I’m running out of excuses and ideas to distract him.

“The puppy has a lot of work to do for the team, bud. You know how busy he is. I’ll ask Miss McKenna when she plans to have him back for an event I can bring you to, okay?”

“Fine,” he says, stretching out the word and looking forlornly out the window as I stand. “Can we maybe go to the aquarium again? We had to leave early last time, and I didn’t get to see the dolphins.”

Damn, this kid sure knows how to innocently hit every guilt trip that’ll have me feeling like a shitty father. He asks for so little, just my uninterrupted time and the chance to see a dog he’s fallen in love with, and I can’t even fulfill those simple requests. I wish I were better at this, able to entertain him, create structure and stability that make him feel comfortable and happy. Instead, every time I take him out, we’re stopped by fans, and my time with him is interrupted. We had to leave the aquarium because it felt unsafe when we were mobbed by a group of people who recognized me, asking for selfies and making a scene. I didn’t feel comfortable staying with my kid after that, and told him we had to go despite having promised him we could see the dolphin show. He threw a fit, and I left with a screaming four-year-old over my shoulder. I’m hesitant to go back, or to any crowded public place, after that clusterfuck.

“Maybe when it’s not so crowded. You remember what happened last time, right? It was pretty scary when all those people showed up, and I don’t want anyone to ruin your visit again. We’ll find something to do, just you and me.”