Page 5

After doing so, I’d wallowed in my usual self-pity and anger, but something had made me read the note several times over a half bottle of whiskey.

So here I was.

Taking my estranged uncle’s advice.

I climbed from the truck, wiping my hands on my jeans, still hesitant. What the hell good was this going to do?

Fuck it.

I forced myself to open the door and walk inside. As I scanned the interior, I realized a pair of eyes were staring at me. I slowly turned my head to find the person watching me was obviously nervous.

That was typical when I walked into a room. People were either terrified I was going to rob them or beat them to death.

I’d done one of the two in my life and I was no thief.

“Um. Can I help you? Sir?” Her voice was meek, but she moved closer, still peering over at me from behind the safety of her counter.

“You a rescue?”

“Yes, sir. Are you looking for a new pet?”

I glanced at the pictures of happy people on the walls, couples and families who’d obviously adopted from the facility. “Yeah.”

“Then you’ve come to the right place. Dog or cat? Although we do have two adorable bunnies.” She was still nervous even though she smiled.

“Dog. A big dog.” I wasn’t much into conversation. There was no reason to placate anyone with bullshit.

“Oh, wow. I can see that.”

When I slowly turned my head toward her, she swallowed visibly.

“I mean because you’re a big guy. A nice-looking man.” Her eyes were open wide.

“Can I see them?”

“Sure. Absolutely. Let me get Margie to help you. She knows the most about their backgrounds. I’ll be right back.”

I hadn’t been in town long enough for anyone to know who the fuck I was. At this point, the poor girl might be calling the cops. I’d had that happen more than once as well. Fuck them if they did. I had nothing to hide.

God, these places gave me the creeps. I loved dogs. Always had. Now was the right time for a companion. I’d been trying to convince myself my uncle was right, although I didn’t know if I’d be good for another human being. Not the way I’d become.

As the door to the back opened again, another woman moved from behind the counter. She was older and not nearly as timid. When she noticed the ink on my arm, she smiled. “Hi. I’m Margie. You’re a Navy man.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you for your service. My husband was Marines.”

I nodded, uncertain what I was supposed to say.

“I understand you’re interested in adopting a large breed dog.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“You know what? I think I have the perfect dog for you.”

The edgy part of me wanted to be riled. What was she doing, profiling me? But I sensed by her kind expression and soft voice she wasn’t fucking with me.

I trailed behind her, the noise as at least two dozen dogs barked at me from cages echoing in my ears. It was almost too much, but I gritted my teeth and trailed behind her to the last cage. Curled in a tight ball in the back corner was a black dog. As we approached, he lifted his head briefly, sadness spilling from his deep chocolate eyes.