Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

N oel

"You look like hell, Noel."

Dr. Jeffrey Mallard was considered the best at what he did, highly respected in his field. I'd been seeing him since moving to Colorado Springs on a whim a few years before. The truth was I'd run away from everyone and everything I knew, trying to chase away the nightmares.

That hadn't worked.

"Well, thanks so much. Is that the kind of bedside manner they teach you in your fancy-dancy school?"

He was sitting behind his throne, as I liked to call it, turning his pen over and over again as he always did. The man's nervous tic had always gotten on my nerves. "I'm not your gynecologist, Noel, just your shrink. I don't need to have a bedside manner. I tell it like it is, which is what you need to hear."

"Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning." I slid into the seat, refusing to lie down on his comfy couch. The sessions didn't really help but I continued to come, hoping that maybe one day I could be cured. Yeah, right.

Sighing, he tossed his pen and leaned over his massive mahogany desk, folding his hands together. He was old enough that with his gray hair, he had that fatherly thing going on. He wanted to chastise me for allowing the horrible incident to continue to plague my life while longing to comfort me as well. Neither would work.

"You're having nightmares again."

"Yes, hence the reason I called and I'm here."

He rubbed his jaw, staring at me as if I was a specimen underneath a microscope. "We could try a low dose of antidepressants."

I threw out my hand before he continued. "I'm a bestselling author, Doctor. I need to be on my mental game at all times in order to create the characters who've helped me earn a damn good living. More than you do, I might add. I can't have my senses dulled because of some ridiculous nightmares."

"Your ridiculous nightmares are keeping you from leaving your house and living a normal life. You do realize that, don't you?"

Ridiculous? Did he just call my night terrors ridiculous? It showed how much the man cared. I would usually lash out at any asshole who reacted this way but as of late, I was no longer anything like the vivacious woman I used to be. "I do just fine, Doc-tor Mallard. I have friends. I have a beautiful house with a mountain view. I have money and the ability to do anything I want."

"Yet, you don't. When was the last time you went out with your friends?"

I had no answer.

"O-kay. When was the last time you invited one of them over?"

I opened and closed my mouth, uncertain of when that was. Since the nightmares had picked up in intensity, I'd retreated even more into my little world than normal.

The monster had won after all, something I'd promised myself would never happen.

"Fine, Doctor. You've made your point but I'm not taking drugs."

"Then I have an idea for you, one that's a little avant-garde but I think something you might approve of." He slid a file across his desk.

I hesitated before bringing it closer. As soon as I opened and read the contents, I narrowed my eyes. "The Abused Dog Rehabilitation Program?"

He nodded. "It's quite well known and expanding into this area. I think having an emotional support animal, one who will also protect you might be the answer."

I read the details over a second time and sighed. "Wait a minute. These dogs are all abused then sent to be retrained or rehabilitated by fucking criminals?"

"In the case of the program being established in Florence, Colorado, you are correct."

"Whoa. The supermax prison?" I knew my mouth was hanging open.

"Yes, Noel. The men chosen are those considered redeemable themselves. As I said, it's a well-respected program that has a ninety-eight percent success rate. It offers the inmates a reason to rehabilitate while allowing the abused dogs to feel as if someone gives a damn. In turn, they become a loving animal to someone, such as yourself, who needs support."

"So, you make a call and I get a dog?"

He laughed. "No, it doesn't work that fast. Since the program is just getting started, it will take a few months for you to receive your pup if you qualify, which I doubt you'll have an issue with given your record. But I assure you, it'll be worth the wait."

My record. As if I'd been the one to kidnap and torture nine women.

Sure, I was no fool. If something didn't change, I'd end up losing everything I'd worked so hard to achieve, but finding the energy to take care of a special needs animal? I wasn't so certain.

Still, it was a glimmer of hope in the ugly darkness. I glanced at the paperwork again, finally pushing the file away. This was so tough, as if admitting I had a problem. "Can I think about it?"

"Sure, but don't take too long. Since I was alerted to the program yesterday morning, the spots have almost been filled. I have a temporary hold on one but only for forty-eight hours."

"I'll let you know before then."

"Strongly consider this option, Noel. You need a companion if nothing else and a dog might be the best way to remind you that not everyone out there is a monster. You will feel safer."

Was that really possible?

The intelligent girl that I'd always been would easily agree that I already knew that. Unfortunately, the girl still locked inside that horrible dark place was the one controlling everything about me from what I ate to what television programs I watched. I hated the fucker's control over me. Loathed it.

"I promise you I'll seriously consider it. I really will."

"I'm going to hold you to that," he said. "Now, tell me about the latest nightmares."

"I don't know, Zoe. It just sounds farfetched to me." At least my discussion with the good doctor had been somewhat productive. I'd managed not only to invite my best friend over, I'd also followed through with it. I was infamous for cancelling at the last moment.

She popped a shrimp into her mouth as she swirled her wine.

I made funny faces on purpose until she almost choked.

"Stop," she wheezed. "You're terrible."

"That's why you love me."

"Uh-huh." She wiped her mouth and sat back on the barstool. "Give me your laptop."

"Why?"

"Because I asked you to. Because I'm your best friend who you've ignored for weeks and because if you don't, I'm going to kick your ass."

"Well," I huffed. "Since you put it that way." Thank God I could laugh around her. As I headed to my office, the first rumble of thunder from an approaching storm caught my attention. I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall, doing the breathing exercises the good doctor had shown me how to do. Usually, they didn't work. Today, they did.

I was even able to smile, lifting my middle finger toward the window. Fuck the storm and the horrible psychopath. I grabbed my laptop, heading back into the kitchen. Zoe immediately grabbed it, lifting the lid. Her fingers flew across the keyboard. She'd been a good friend since I'd arrived, an attorney who'd helped with the purchase of my house. Even if that wasn't her forte. She was a criminal attorney and someone I could trust without question. She'd simply been doing her cousin the real estate agent a favor.

I'd asked her if she wanted to have a glass of wine and we'd been fast friends ever since.

"I've heard about the program," she said in passing. "I knew it was coming to the area as I was contacted to suggest any of my… clients that could be eligible."

"Is it any good?"

"Highly successful in other areas of the country. I just don't know how it will work at the supermax prison. Usually, they only allow minimum security prisoners to handle the animals. The nonviolent types."

I shuddered at the thought. I knew what the doctor was doing, trying to get me to face and conquer my fears in an entirely different way. It wasn't a bad idea. I just… I wasn't certain I had any love to give anyone, least of all an animal who'd been abused.

"Ah. I was wondering why. This makes sense," she said absently.

The wine tasted better than usual for a change. I took another sip, leaning over the counter, the disco music I'd popped on able to drown out the sounds of the weather. "Meaning what?"

"Meaning, given their success, they're expanding the program on a trial run. They're providing the most damaged, abused animals a chance at graduating the program and finding a forever home while also providing a very unique opportunity for a select few convicts."

"Okay. Meaning what?" I pressed.

"You are so impatient. Meaning there's a chance a few will get parole because of the involvement." She studied me as if I was going to break down into tears.

"Not all criminals are psychopaths. Some are inside the joint based on circumstances."

"Wow. I never thought I'd hear you say that."

"I write about criminals all the time. I do a lot of research. What the bastard did to me encompasses about point-two-two percent of criminals. Some commit crimes based on tragedies or horrific circumstance and maybe they do deserve a break."

Where had that come from?

I'd been writing thrillers for as long as I could remember. I think since I'd learned to walk. As the nerdy kid, writing had been my refuge, my way of sliding into a dream world. I never would have believed I could make a living doing what I loved.

She seemed amused, lifting her wine stem and grinning. "Then you know what makes that fucker tick. Or you should. He wants you scared. You need to fight with everything you have, including considering this."

I brushed a strand of stray hair behind my ear as I did when I was nervous. "Yeah, well, if I don't start to sleep a few hours a night, I'll become just like him." On purpose, I grabbed the knife I'd used to cut the cheese, acting as if I was in a slasher flick.

She laughed before turning the computer around, using a lovey-dovey voice. "Look at those wittle faces."

I swallowed hard as I looked from one to the other. "What kind of sick fuck could abuse a loving animal?"

"A sick fuck. You have a chance of showing the one chosen for you that all people aren't bad. And you'll be helping an inmate society threw away. Maybe your psychiatrist is brilliant. Plus, what could it hurt?"

"What if the bastard inmates teach them to be aggressive instead?"

Her hard look was sisterly. "It doesn't work that way. These guys are hard as fucking stone, but you'd be surprised how much they melt into a little puddle, full of pride when the watch their fur babies graduate from the program. There's a ceremony and a dog cake and everything."

"Don't they miss the animals?"

"Yeah, of course, but it's giving them incentive to get out, so they have the chance to adopt a bunch of furry creatures."

Hmmm. When she put it that way… I chewed on my lower lip.

"What if I get attached?"

She laughed. "That's what you're supposed to do and you know what? It's okay. Besides, the program is just getting started so you'll have plenty of time to get used to the idea. You know what? In my professional opinion, I think this is exactly what you need."

"I'm not sure what I need any longer and what, you're now a psychiatrist?"

"Well, I know what you need and you've done your research. You know my job entails driving a sharp stick into the minds of criminals. Now, no more shop talk. Grab the bottle of wine, girl. We're going to watch a movie. I hope you bought some Chunky Monkey ice cream."

"Well, duh."

As soon as I grabbed the wine bottle, she jerked it from my hand, heading toward the living room. It was chilly outside, snow on the ground. I'd started a fire. I glanced at the dogs on the screen, reaching out and touching their little faces. I'd had a puppy as a little girl, a dog I adored with all my heart. When I'd lost him, it had nearly broken me.

Maybe Zoe was right. What could hurt putting two broken souls together?

Kage

I had no idea why I'd agreed to such bullshit. I had no business caring for an animal. The fuckers in the joint would likely hurt him. I was pacing the room, one I hadn't been in for a long time since I didn't have visitors. I'd refused to allow any of my family to come here under any circumstances, not that dear old Dad wanted to have anything to do with me anyway.

At least there the space offered me time to think. Or maybe just second guess myself. Today was a meet and greet only, a dog preselected for me. I'd already had the grilling session by the warden, the fucker still treating me like an animal. However, Dr. Daniels had talked back to him as well, going above his head to the governor to have me preapproved. Somehow, I had a feeling the asshole would take that out on me.

I'd deal with him. As long as he didn't hurt the dog, I'd be okay with whatever shit he tossed at me.

Oh, God. I was nervous, which was ridiculous. I was meeting a goddamn animal. As I raked my hands through my hair, I groaned. I didn't really think that at all. Shit. I couldn't do this crap. I wasn't good enough to try to show an abused animal love. How could I when I was so damaged myself?

I was about to head for the door, demanding I be taken back to my cell when the visitors' door opened, Dr. Daniels walking in. I noticed she had a couple of packages in her hands and a smile on her face.

"I'm sorry I'm late. The traffic was horrific. Plus, I stopped and got a few things I thought you might like." She placed the bags on one of the metal picnic-style tables.

I eyed them warily. "What's that?"

"Why don't you find out?" She backed away but not from fear of me. I could see real excitement in her eyes.

There was no doubt she was putting her reputation on the line for me. Ordinarily I wouldn't give a shit, but she'd stuck with me, refusing to back down or give up. I had to give her some credit. I moved closer, peering inside. Then something magical or bizarre happened. I broke out into a smile as I pulled the dog toys and a bag of treats from the thick plastic. The items included a tennis ball. God, just holding it in my hand brought back too many memories.

At least they were good ones.

Where I would have shut down just seeing one before, this time was different. Almost as if this was a new beginning, but I wasn't the kind of man to get my hopes up for any reason.

"You like them?" she asked.

"It's not what I like. It's what he or she likes."

"You're going to meet Max."

I lifted my gaze. I wasn't certain I wanted another boy. A twinge of pain tore through me, but I did my best to ignore it. Wouldn't do me any good anyway. "Yeah, okay."

"Aren't you even a little bit excited?"

"I hate to burst your bubble, Doc, but don't get your hopes up. Dogs can smell bad people a mile away. My guess is he'll hate me."

"Why do you sell yourself short, Kage? Huh? You can pretend all you want to behind these bars, but I know deep inside what you're made of. If I believed even half the crap said about you, then I wouldn't have gone to bat for you to get into this program. You deserve this and I have no doubt it's going to change your life."

"Who's he going to if he graduates?"

"That's yet to be determined but remember what I told you. One rule of the program is that if you're offered parole, you cannot ever see the dog again. I know that sounds rough, but you will no longer be their master."

"Don't worry, Doc. I don't want to be anyone's master." Just then the door was opened and a man walked in with a dog on a leash, a guard right behind him. The poor guy appeared sheepish, as if I was going to take a chomp out of his face.

"Ah, Jimmy. Come on over here." Dr. Daniels motioned the guy forward.

The dog was staring at me with such sad, wary eyes. I stared back, still uncertain how I felt or if I felt anything at all.

"Jimmy," she repeated. "This idea is for Mr. Bronson to meet Max."

Jimmy was so nervous I thought the guy was going to piss his pants. If this had been any other situation, I'd bark like a dog to see if that happened but not today.

Max whined, pulling at the leash.

"The collar is way too tight," I told good ole Jimmy.

The good doctor lifted her eyebrows and grinned. "Well, why don't you fix it for him?"

"Are you sure this is okay?" Jimmy asked as if I wasn't going to be able to overhear him.

She slapped her hands on her hips, turning toward him in a snap. "Why the fuck are you here? This man isn't going to hurt you. Stop acting like a child. And you," she snapped, pointing to the guard. "Leave us alone. I'll come get you when and if I want you."

I shoved the ball into my pocket, hoping the pup would enjoy playing with it later.

The guard threw me a hateful look then backed away, closing the thick metal door with a hard slam. I wasn't liked on this side of the prison any more than the other. Too fucking bad. I reached into one of the bags, ripping open the treats, and putting a few into my hand.

The dog pulled at the leash again and I dropped down into a crouched position, wanting to be on the pup's level. I spent a couple of seconds adjusting the collar so it didn't strangle him. He was so damn timid, so fearful his entire body shook. Christ. Who was the fuck who'd done this to him?

Jimmy finally leaned down and unfastened the leash. The dog remained wary, taking a few steps toward me then stopping and sniffing. The scars on the poor pup's back were enough to bring out the vicious man inside of me.

"Max is one of the dogs I showed you before. So far, he hasn't gotten along with anyone."

The doctor's voice was solemn but mixed with hope. I sat down on the cold floor, crossing my legs. "Golden and German Shepherd?"

"Yes," Jimmy answered. "He was burned by his former owner. That's not the worst of it."

It was all I could do not to crush the treats in my hand thinking about doing that to the fucking owner's head. I kept my eyes locked on the beautiful baby, still trying not to get my hopes up. He hung his head low in defeat, his tail shoved between his back legs. Even with the scars, the dog was one of the most beautiful I'd ever seen.

I finally held out my hand with my fingers curled, which indicated I wasn't a threat. It took him a little while, but he finally closed the distance, sniffing my hand. When he finally figured out I had treats, he lifted his gaze, his eyes a little brighter.

"You want a treat, Maxie boy?" I asked.

The single thump of his tail was perhaps the most rewarding sight I'd had in years. I opened two fingers, allowing him to nuzzle into my hand, finding the treat. Very slowly I reached out, stroking the top of his head. At first, he jerked it back up, backing away a few steps. The pup was searching my eyes, hopeful I wasn't going to hurt him. I could sense the doctor was holding her breath, more hopeful than the puppy.

"Here you go, boy. You can have another one." I offered the treat with my open hand and this time without hesitation, he moved closer. I tried petting him again, breathing a little easier when he didn't jerk away.

After Max finished eating, he remained where he was, allowing me to rub him behind his ears. I wasn't used to feeling anything other than cold and dead inside, but when the pup inched closer, dragging his wet tongue across my face, the little fur ball struck a nerve.

Before I had time to really react, Max crawled into my lap, his tail thumping against the floor in a perfect rhythm.

I'd always heard when a dog found his person, he was finally content. Maybe Max had found his.

And maybe, just maybe, we could rehabilitate each other.