THURSDAY, OCTOBER 11, EARLY MORNING
Chandler felt the cool air press against him as his feet pounded the pavement. His sleep had been deep but not deep enough. He kept moving, dragging a worn-out Aslan with him, trying to outpace the memories that haunted him. The nightmares weren’t his reality, he reminded himself. They were the remnants of his past.
The ghosts of his failures.
A swirling image of Rianna overlapped by the man who had died at the end of his tour, then the little girl he’d tried so hard to protect in Afghanistan.
He huffed out a breath, forgetting everything he’d learned in basic training: breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth. Instead, he gulped air as fast as his arms pumped.
He’d outrun his nightmare for the moment. But if he closed his eyes? There was no guarantee it wouldn’t barrel back to his subconscious. Good counseling helped, but it took more for him to clear the trauma of what he’d seen and heard on tour.
He wanted to believe it would get better, but there were no guarantees.
The sidewalk came to an end, and Aslan skidded to a stop and leaned into Chandler’s leg.
A minute later they were in the building, and he opened the apartment door and then stepped out of the way as Aslan bounded straight to his water bowl. Chandler bent over and rubbed the dog’s ears, eliciting a doggie grin of epic proportions. Then he sank to the floor, and Aslan plopped next to him and placed his head in Chandler’s lap, gazing at him with concern.
Chandler glanced at his watch: 5:00 a.m. No point in going back to bed; by the time he could pretend to sleep his alarm would buzz. He took his Bible and a Tervis tumbler of coffee out to the small patio table.
He could tell it was going to be one of those days when the caffeine wouldn’t be enough to keep him going. But would his faith? He wanted to believe God would provide what he needed, but he already felt off. God had been faithful throughout the divorce, meeting him time and again as he battled to heal from Rianna’s abrupt decision to leave. She’d taken his heart along with the furniture, leaving him to find a new place and furnish it with whatever he could find on the cheap. That about summed up their short marriage.
God had been with him through that, and God had been there every moment of his tour. He may never know why God allowed some things to happen, but he was convinced that He would turn everything to good. He’d seen it time and again.
So what was setting this day up to be an off one? Was it the nightmare? Or could it be Jaime?
His phone rang and he grabbed it. A little early for a call, so it must be important.
“This is Bolton.”
“Did I disturb your dreams?” The voice was low, guttural. Almost as if the person were trying to disguise it.
“Nope. I’m an early riser.”
“Not usually this early.”
Chandler stiffened. How would the caller know his patterns? Or maybe it was a lucky guess. “I’m assuming you have a reason to call.”
“Just wanted you to know I’m watching.”
Chandler snorted. “That doesn’t frighten me.”
“I didn’t think it would. But when you figure out who I am and what I can do, it will.”
The call ended abruptly, and Chandler set the phone down. What had he done to make this vet fixate on him? The caller wasn’t the first disgruntled vet to focus on the wrong person. It was almost a hazard of the job. Chandler had known that when he took it.
He took five minutes to capture the conversation, then time for more exercise. He had no hope of shaking the effects of the call unless he did it with old-fashioned sweat. He looked at Aslan. “You get to stay home this time.”
The workout room was empty when Jaime arrived. Her sleep had been short, and rather than bother Caroline, she’d slipped on yoga pants and a running shirt and headed to the workout facility. She’d warmed up with a quick walk on the treadmill, then headed to the weights.
At one time she would have done her exercise outside where she could breathe, but after what happened last night, she’d decided to play it safe. If her uncle really was seeking revenge, it could escalate quickly. The best way to fight back was to be in top shape. She needed to outrun the shadows. She’d just moved on to the stationary bike when a movement caught her attention.
She froze, then relaxed when she saw Chandler’s face. “Morning.” He looked worn out, like he hadn’t slept.
“Hi.” His camo tee was like a slap, reminding her how much she didn’t like or trust military men. They were all like her uncle . . . even if she knew they weren’t. So why did her two-timing heart want her to stop and stare at this guy? “You’re up early.”
He nodded, then went over to the water machine and filled a plastic cup, which he quickly drained. “It was one of those nights.”
While some might consider his words evasive, she understood what it meant to be a survivor. “Nightmares?”
“Nothing a good long run couldn’t take care of.”
Part of her wanted to probe, but he’d been kind enough to let her control the pace of sharing. She’d give him the same gift.
He hopped on the bike next to her and pushed a few buttons. She wrinkled her nose. “Guess it was a long run.”
“Aslan thought so. You should have seen him flopped over his water bowl. I must have pushed harder than I thought.”
“I’ll bet he liked the exercise. A big dog like that must need lots.”
“Yeah. He does.” A small smile tipped his lips.
She slowed her pace since there was no sense puffing next to him. He’d beat her in any competition with that physique. She winced at the direction her thoughts had taken. He wasn’t supposed to do this to her.
He glanced at her and arched a brow in a look that would make Clark Gable proud. “This is early for you too.”
“Not really. I haven’t been in my regular routine since you’ve known me. When it’s nice out, I prefer the trails.” She arched an eyebrow in return, curious where this fire between them could lead. That settled it. She was crazy. She forced her attention back to his military background and how that represented nothing but pain to her. The military had stolen her father and created the context where Dane could perform his evil.
Could she ignore this man’s military experience? Could she allow herself to explore what could develop between them? She blew out the spark of hope before it could ignite, because she knew herself too well. She couldn’t be trusted.
It took effort for Chandler to peel himself away from the workout room; the interaction with Jaime was so intriguing and different. She didn’t react like so many women. She was prickly on the edges, but he could see more beneath the surface, a depth waiting to be explored. But he had to get to work no matter how tired he was from his fitful night. As he showered and dressed, his thoughts traveled back to his caller. He’d tried dialing the number the call originated from, but all he heard was a mechanical voice saying the number was out of service.
There was nothing else he could do until he figured out who the man was. Meanwhile, the next thing in front of him was his job. He’d perform each task to the best of his ability and push the man to the area of “nuisance to be ignored” until there was something he could do.
He kept that in mind as he walked through meetings, counseling sessions, and paperwork. He’d be vigilant and alert, but that’s all he could do until this threat either materialized or disappeared.
His work cell rang, and he glanced at the caller ID. Madeline Ange.
“This is Chandler.”
“Tiffany is really struggling today.” The mother didn’t bother with niceties. “Is Aslan free?”
Chandler glanced at the dog bed in the corner of his office, then to the pile of paperwork and reports. “He can be after work. Tiffany’s at school, isn’t she?”
“I had to pull her out. She won’t say anything, and if anyone talks to her, she curls into the fetal position.” Madeline pushed out a shuddering breath. “She seems most comfortable when Aslan is around. Yesterday seemed to help.”
Chandler glanced at his desk calendar and noted a few critical appointments he couldn’t skip. Those would only add to the time it took to get caught up. “I’m sorry, Ms. Ange, but I can’t today.”
“How about tomorrow?” She was persistent.
“How about Sunday?” Chandler rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the tension that coiled there. “I could meet you somewhere early afternoon.” There was a required military ball Friday night, and he wanted to keep Saturday free to get Jaime used to the idea he’d be her shadow as much as time allowed.
“You’re sure you can’t today?”
“I’m sure.” Time to solidify boundaries.
“Then Sunday will do. I don’t know what I’ll tell Tiffany though.”
“You’ll tell her Aslan looks forward to a playdate then.” His dog’s ears perked up at his name. “I’ll text you Saturday for a location.”
She sighed, but he remained resolute. He’d help as he could, but he had a job and responsibilities. Madeline had to learn how to cope with what had happened as much as Tiffany did. That wouldn’t happen if he dropped everything to respond the moment she called. It was a hard but necessary truth.