Page 12 of Her Faithful Protector

The drive from the Helena airport feels surreal, as if I’m still in the sky. Seeing Ava again has got me all jittery, but my body is slow to bounce back from my accidental nap on the plane. I woke up scratching the armrests of the plane seat, my spine burning as if my skin had split. The elderly woman next to me gawked as if I had some sort of phobia or PTSD, perhaps noticing the USMC pin attached to my bag.

I’ve served in the military for more than a decade. The stigma of PTSD is often linked to our experiences, regardless of its accuracy. Even with all the research conducted, our understanding of it remains surprisingly lacking.

Nevertheless, my mid-air terror has nothing to do with PTSD, and I do not have a fear of flying. It’s a story about a place and a person, dark but vivid. If it holds any truth, those visions would be the fleeting moments I was face-to-face with my kidnapper. Nonetheless, I won’t have certainty until I find solid evidence.

As I approach my destination, thoughts of Ava fill my mind, drowning the haunting images and convincing my body that I’m back on solid ground.

The rest of the journey leads me through undulating hills. Morgan’s idea of seclusion takes me by surprise, but I guess she had to make sure her best friend was safe.

I arrive at the address Morgan texted me earlier, hoping to find her husband Tyler at the door. Despite knowing Morgan and Ava, I will feel much better if I don’t have to face the ladies alone—especially the latter.

Now that I’m at the doorstep, the prospect of seeing Ava again frightens me. What the hell am I going to say to her? What does she think of me? How will I feel? It was easier when she was only present in her sketch, while the real her was hundreds of miles away.

“Tyler!” I call. But there’s no response. The only sound I hear is barking, followed by noises from behind the door. Curious, I peek inside. The dog seems friendly, but then it disappears.

“Morgan?” I try calling again.

It occurs to me that the two might’ve orchestrated a prank, leaving me with no choice but to spend time alone with Ava. But somehow, it doesn’t seem likely.

Moments later, I hear more scratching, and the dog reappears outside, holding a toy in its mouth. It’s a long, yellow-and-white toy, which I recognize. I bought it from a specialty shop in Honolulu when Morgan told me about Ava giving birth. I can’t believe Ava had kept it. And judging by the marks along the giraffe’s neck, I’m sure it’s been well used.

“Where’re your parents?” I ask the dog as it sits at my feet, and it barks in response. For a few seconds, we appraise each other. The dog cocks his head, and his ears flap. He resembles a Labrador, but his legs are short and stubby.

I go around the back of the house, calling out for Tyler and Morgan once more. But there’s no sign of anyone.

Thinking the gang might be at Red Mark, I call Sam. “Hey, is Tyler there?”

“Why would he be?” my brother answers. “He’s on the way to his honeymoon with Morgan.”

Honeymoon? Why didn’t anyone mention a honeymoon?

“Where are you?” Sam asks.

“At the house.”

“Ava should be there. I mean, not Ty’s city house, but the one that Morgan rented for Ava. Have you got the address right?”

“Yeah. I’m here.”

“Ava should be home. Is her car there?”

“No,” I answer, then shift my attention to my welcoming party. “I’ve only got a dog here.”

“It must be Ava’s. Morgan and Ty’s dog is in Bozeman with Ty’s parents.” Then he pauses.

My former Navy SEAL brother rarely runs out of ideas regarding someone’s whereabouts. Something is amiss.

“Damn it! I’ll find her,” I resolve, returning to my car.

The dog refuses to let me go, wrapping his short front legs around my ankle and nipping at my sock. Unable to resist his adorable face, I pick him up and let him ride in the back.

The deserted streets around the neighborhood make me increasingly desperate. I keep my eyes peeled, checking out other properties and then hitting up the nearby town with all the stores. But there’s no sign of Ava. With a sigh, I head to the city to meet up with my brother.

As I approach the Red Mark office, I spot a figure stumbling toward the same building. Even from a distance, I recognize who it is. I accelerate, then stop at the curb next to her.

“Ava! Ava!”

I jump out of the car, my hands reaching out to catch her faltering body. The dog goes berserk, whining as if knowinghis master is in trouble. As I hold Ava in my arms, the crimson hue stands out vividly against her ghostly skin. Her disheveled hair brushes against my fingertips as I wipe the blood off her forehead.

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