The ache inside her turned to anger.“You know what?You’re right.I deserve a man who sees me as a partner, someone to stand by his side through the good times and the bad.I need tomatterto him.So just take yourself off and go feel sorry for yourself.”She turned away from him.“You know the way out,” she said, throwing his own words back at him.
His shoulders slumped, and he nodded, then left.She should have told him he wasn’t going to prison, that Lane had confessed that it wasn’t Jack who’d hurt him.She’d let her anger get the best of her.
She walked to the window and peered out.As his truck backed out of her driveway, leaving her house for the last time, taking her heart with him, she buried her face in her hands and whispered his name.
“Jack.”
Walking out the door of Nichole’s house, knowing he’d never see her again, was the hardest thing Jack had ever done.Facing the charges against him, missing his team...Those things were nothing compared to losing Nichole.
He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forget the hurt in her eyes.He was an ass.He was right, though, and she’d figure out soon enough that she was better off without him.And if the reverse didn’t apply to him, so be it.That was what love was, wasn’t it?Doing what was best for the other person, even if it meant sacrificing your own happiness?
His first impulse was to get drunk enough to deaden the pain in his chest, but the last time he’d done that, he’d ended up in jail, so it probably wasn’t a good idea.
Since heading to a bar was out, he turned his truck for home.He had a mission to complete before his trial started, and that was getting Trucker ready for his new job.He spent the morning working with the dog.Fortunately, Trucker was not only intelligent but eager to please, both him and Dakota.
An idea was brewing, though, something that would enable him to make a contribution to the men and women he would always consider his brothers and sisters, the military heroes who were having trouble adjusting to civilian life, whether from loss of limbs or suffering PTSD.It was a known fact that therapy dogs had an extraordinary ability to ease stress and anxiety, even to the extent of helping to reduce suicides in military personnel.
He was good at training dogs, and it was something he loved.He’d tried to think of other jobs he could pursue, but nothing appealed to him.He was a trained warrior and a dog handler.It was all he knew.Sitting in an office, whether in the public sector or a desk job in the military, would be torture at its worst.He could get a job in construction or the like, but that wouldn’t make him happy to get up in the mornings.
The more he thought about it, the more it interested him, to the point that he started researching therapy dog training as soon as he finished his session with Trucker.Although he knew how to train dogs for war, therapy training was different.Tomorrow morning he’d go talk to Ron, see if Ron would agree to train and certify him after he got out of jail or prison, or at least recommend someone who would.
By lunchtime he’d decided on a name and mission statement.His excitement growing, he logged on to his computer and drafted a logo.
Operation K-9 Brothers
Rescue dogs making life better for veterans in need.
Veterans giving rescue dogs a new beginning.
He’d need to find a graphic designer to improve on it, but he liked it.Fortunately, overhead wouldn’t be out of his reach to start.He’d enlisted in the navy the day after getting his associate degree.It had only taken two years to decide college wasn’t for him.Other than minor expenses during his twelve-year stint in the military, he’d been able to bank a good chunk of his pay.
Eventually, if he succeeded and was able to grow Operation K-9 Brothers, he’d need to look for sponsorships and donations, but that was down the road.To start, he needed to find a dog or two with the potential to become therapy companions and locate a place to train them.In the beginning, if he had to, he could use his yard, but the grassy area was small and not ideal.
After throwing together a quick sandwich, he ate it standing at the counter, eager to get back to his computer and investigate what dogs were available for adoption in local shelters.He identified several possibilities, but a personal visit would be in order before making a final decision.He was getting ahead of himself, though.Until he got certified, he couldn’t move forward.Unfortunately, patience wasn’t one of his virtues.
Tomorrow he’d talk to Ron about certification, and then he’d check out some dogs at the...
This was all pointless if he was headed for prison.He was getting excited over something that was probably never going to happen.Tossing his pen down, he paced the confines of his living room.How was he supposed to survive being locked up?He wasn’t sure he could.
Dakota whined, drawing his attention.“No, I’m not okay,” he told her.What was going to happen to his dog?He needed to make arrangements for her, not be dreaming about a future he’d never have.Who could he ask to take her?Just thinking about giving her away like she was a piece of furniture he no longer wanted made him want to put his fist through the wall.She wouldn’t understand his abandoning her.
Because he’d made a stupid decision to get drunk, ending up at the wrong place at the wrong time, he was losing everything.Nichole, his dog, his team, his freedom.Not only that, but the nightmares that had eased off since he and Nichole had been spending their nights together had returned with a vengeance, starting again with his arrest.
How had his life gone to hell so damn fast?
Running was his answer lately to when the panic threatened to drown him, so he headed for the door.His phone buzzed.Taking it from his pocket, he saw his attorney’s name on the screen.
“Ms.Boyd, I’m hoping you’re not calling with more bad news, although that seems to be the way things are going these days.”
“Then you’ll be happy with this phone call.I’ve been in court all day, or I would have gotten in touch sooner.Can you be in my office first thing in the morning?”
“Is that all you’re going to tell me?”
“Yes.I’m sorry if I’m being mysterious, but you need to hear what I have for yourself.”
Hear?What did that mean?“Yeah, okay, I’ll be there.”
Jack stared blankly at his phone’s screen after disconnecting.She’d said he’d be happy...the only things that would make him happy were if Nichole was in his life, he didn’t have to give his dog away, and he wasn’t going to prison.As for never being able to return to his team, he’d made peace with that.It was what it was, and a SEAL sucked it up, and then put one foot in front of the other and moved forward.
