Jax kept his voice low, steady. “Then there was Scout, a shepherd who was just an all-around good boy. He’s a service dog for a kid with seizures. Then Rosie. She was this scrappy little terrier with attitude for days. My hardest case.” He smiled faintly at the memory. “But we worked through her sass andshe’s now a service dog for a teenager with diabetes. In my three years with the program, I trained fourteen dogs. Every one of them went to someone who needed them. Kids with disabilities. Veterans with PTSD.” He paused, studying the tense line of Echo’s spine. “None of them were like you, though.”

The silence stretched between them, broken only by the distant sound of horses in the paddock and the soft shuffle of other dogs in their kennels. Echo’s breathing had slowed, her rigid posture easing by degrees.

“Boone thinks we’re kindred spirits,” Jax said with a bitter laugh. “Two broken things that nobody else can fix. Maybe he’s right. Maybe we’re both too fucked up to trust anyone.”

Echo’s nose twitched. She shifted again, this time moving an inch closer to the front of the kennel. Still ready to bolt, but no longer pressed against the wall like she was trying to disappear through it.

“You hungry, girl?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a jerky treat he’d grabbed on his way in. “Not asking you to take it from my hand. Just...” He placed it on the concrete floor, well within her reach but far enough away that she wouldn’t have to come near him. “It’s there if you want it.”

He sat back again and waited. After several long minutes, she inched forward.

But the kennel door rattled as someone entered the building, and Echo immediately retreated deeper into her corner, hackles rising.

Fuck.

So much for progress.

Ghost appeared in the doorway between the kennels, moving with that unnerving silence that had earned him his nickname. He carried a rope toy in one hand and didn’t so much as glance at Jax as he approached the kennel three down from Echo’s.

“Cinder,” he called quietly, and a sleek black Belgian Sheepdog rose from her position near the back of her kennel. She was all angles—long-limbed, fine-boned, with a wedge-shaped head and alert, triangular ears—and her thick, flowing coat gleamed like ink under the fluorescent lights. Aptly named.

Unlike Echo, Cinder padded forward without hesitation, pressing her nose to the chain link as Ghost unlocked the door. As soon as the door swung open, she rubbed against Ghost’s leg like a cat, and his shoulders relaxed infinitesimally. The pair moved together like they’d been doing this for years.

“She’ll settle,” Ghost said, giving his dog the rope toy. “Takes time.”

It took Jax a moment to realize he was talking about Echo. “How long you been working with Cinder?”

“Two years.”

“You’ve been here that long?”

“Longer. Three years next month.”

“Why? The program’s only six months.”

“The program’s as long as you want it to be.” Ghost lifted a shoulder. “And where else would I go?”

Jesus. This place seemed to suck guys in and never let them go. Like a black hole with chickens and goats.

Yeah, Jax wasn’t ready to examine why that made him uncomfortable.

“She came from a fighting ring,” Ghost said after a moment, nodding toward Echo. “Not as a fighter. As bait.”

Jax’s stomach clenched. “Boone mentioned that.”

Echo growled low in her throat, as if she understood they were talking about her.

“What happened to Cinder before you got her?” Jax asked.

Ghost’s expression didn’t change, but his ice-gray eyes hardened. “Military contractor used her for perimeter security in Afghanistan, then left her behind when the unit pulled out. Aidworkers found her beaten and half-starved.” His voice was flat, economical. “When she came here, she didn’t trust anyone for eight months. Wouldn’t eat if I was in the room. Pissed herself if I moved too fast.” He ran his hand down Cinder’s back, and the dog leaned harder into him like he was the only solid thing in her world. “Now she won’t let me out of her sight.”

“What changed?”

“I stopped expecting her to.”

Jax turned to Echo, who had crept forward again, though she was still a good three feet from the treat. She cowered back when she saw him looking.

Ghost headed to the door with Cinder at his heel.