Page 29 of Always You

Something about being with the animals brought me peace. Each dog, cat, bird, or occasional rabbit that came through the doors carried a story. Those animals had faced abandonment, hardship, and, sometimes, abuse. They were survivors—much like the veterans we tried to help at Guardian Hall.

“… we’ve had so many success stories, seeing an animal go from scared and skittish, to loving and loved in their new forever home,” Abbie explained as she led Bugsy over to what we called the welcome room. Like the one Jazz had started in at GuardianHall, this welcome room was a safe place for a new arrival, although this one came with worn blankets, squeaky toys, tennis balls, and dark corners for the animals to hide in. Bugsy wasn’t happy about going inside, but Jazz went past him, then sat on the floor next to the blankets and held out a hand.

“Come on, Bugsy, come say hi,” he murmured.

My heart expanded at the sound of his soft but deep voice. He’d always been a gentle soul, great with animals, and not a typical soldier type, despite the weight of parental expectations. I wanted to see my gentle former friend move back into the world unharmed.

I was desperate to see him safe.

Bugsy whined, all nervous energy, a small, wiry mutt with a gaze that darted around as if expecting the world to collapse at any moment. His coat was a patchwork of browns and blacks, scruffy but clean, suggesting a life that had had the comforts of a loving home. But trust was not a concept he was familiar with as he tugged against the leash. The welcome room might as well have been a minefield in his eyes.

Jazz seemed to understand Bugsy’s hesitance, not making any sudden movements that might spook the already terrified dog,. Abbie cursed under her breath and pulled out a vibrating cell, and Bugsy cowered.

“I need to take this call,” she whispered, and I waved her away. Fuck—Abbie would leave me in the shit here. She knew all about Jazz and what he meant to me and how I’d fucked everything up—hell; she was my freaking sponsor, and she knew all my deep dark secrets alongside saving my life.

“No worries, I’ve got this.”I haven’t got this at all.

Jazz spoke in low, soothing tones, words that were more about the calm they conveyed than any actual meaning. Bugsy, for his part, stayed just out of reach, his body language torn between curiosity and fear.

I watched as Jazz extended his hand a little further, palm up and open, an offering of peace and friendship to the little dog. Bugsy eyed it warily, inching closer before retreating again—a dance of uncertainty. Finally, he took a tentative step forward, then another, until he was close enough for Jazz to stroke his head again. It was a minor victory, but a significant one. Jazz’s face lit up with a smile, a genuine expression of joy that I’d missed, and the ghost of the young man I’d known and loved was sitting in front of me.

So strong, his skin soft, healthy, his hair neat, his expression calmer for the first time since he’d arrived.

And the smile? That was everything.

“What happens to Bugsy now?” Jazz asked me.

I cleared my throat. “First, we’ll try to track down who left him. Sometimes, we get lucky, if he’s chipped; and sometimes, we could put some money in place for the family if they left him with us because they were struggling somehow. Then, if that fails, we’ll find him a new home.”

He nodded, then crooned, “Come on, Bugsy, let’s be friends.” One moment at a time, he coaxed Bugsy into the welcome room, encouraging him with soft words and gentle gestures until the dog crossed the threshold. Once inside, Bugsy’s transformation was remarkable. Though still nervous, he explored a little, sniffing at the edge of the blankets and nosing at toys scattered around the room, but it wasn’t long before he curled up next to Jazz, his head finding a resting place in Jazz’s lap.

“Everything okay?” I asked Abbie as she came back to my side, not liking the frown she was wearing.

Jazz glanced up at us, his gaze flicking to me, but then focusing on Abbie.

“Normally, I’d do the orientation,” Abbie said, then sighed with great drama as she waggled her phone, “but I can’t today.”

Jazz’s smile vanished, and he quickly stared down at Bugsy, his shoulders dropping a little.

“What’s up?” I asked for clarification.

“I’ve finally pinned down Joseph’s son, Levi, to visit String Bean and the pups, and he’sreluctantlyagreed to be here in thirty.” She rolled her eyes. “Probably too busy being a concierge veterinarian, fixing designer dogs and bowing to their rich owners too much to actually care about volunteer work.” Then, she pressed a hand to my arm and looked stricken. “I wouldn’t ask, but…” She inclined her head at Jazz. “Can you do the orientation while I charm this asshole into not charging us the earth?” I understood why she was asking. After all, we’d lost Joseph when he retired and, so far, his son was reluctant to get involved. Abbie’s “charm” was a tactful way of saying we needed to secure the best for our animals without straining our always-tight budget. She glanced at Jazz, then back at me and bit her lip. “Or we could do another day.”

“Sure,” Jazz said immediately, but when he tried to stand, Bugsy burrowed deeper and whined.

“I can’t,” I blurted. “I mean, Jazz might not want me to do it.”

“I’m okay,” Jazz said after a pause.

“Are you sure?” I tried to gauge his reaction, giving him an out. After all, he’d insisted Marcus be his contact back at the Hall. He avoided talking to me and told me outright that he didn’t want to be friends.

He paused, a trace of indecision in him. He only met my eyes again after a moment that stretched out longer than I’d expected.

“I’m sure,” he said, and it seemed as if he was giving more than just his assent for me leading the orientation. There was a hint of connection there, a silent agreement he would be okay with me in his space.

“Thanks, Alex. I appreciate it,” Abbie said. “So Jazz, you’ll be in expert hands with Alex, and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

I met her gaze, and we had a silent conversation that ended with me sighing and her throwing me a half-smile.

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