Page 53 of Beautifully Broken
Shelter Together
Chapter 1
Ashley
A lot of people say it's important to separate work from your real life, but I think that's bullshit. My workismy life, and I'm completely okay with that.
Hi, I'm Ashley Stafford. Heir extraordinaire to the Stafford fortune, out-and-loud son of the wonderful Evelyn and Edwin Stafford II, and grandson to the rather down-with-the-times Edwin Stafford I. Not to mention the proud owner ofShelter Together, a safe space for animals and humans alike, and also my home. Hence the whole “my work is my life”.
I've always known I wanted to work with animals when I grew up; I just wasn't sure at what capacity. When I was twelve, my grandpa took me with him to a fundraiser for the local animal shelter. He not only highlighted the importance of donating funds but also donating our time to help a great cause. While at the fundraiser, we set a time to volunteer at the shelter.
That first day I spent cleaning kennels and litter boxes changed my life. I knew then that I wanted to either work for or run my own non-profit animal shelter. I didn't only want to run it; I wanted to be on the front line, helping the animals. My grandfather, being the sweet yet powerful man he is, set me up for the best possible future to make that happen.
Many in his circle had an elitist air about them, but not my grandfather. He came from money but was raised as if they had none and, in turn, he raised my father the same way, even though he took the fortune his father had left him and tripled it. Sure, he attended the outlandish fundraiser and rubbed elbows with the “who's who” of the large city I grew up in, but he also rolled up his sleeves and cleaned those dog kennels right alongside me.
Not only is my grandpa down to earth, but he and my parents are more accepting than the entire elite population I grew up with. My name has been a running joke in my family; since I was a little boy, everyone has known I'mgayer than a twirler in a pride parade. Ashley is a popular boys’ name in our family, but it's also fitting since I'm femme as fuck.
I've always loved dressing up—anything with glitter, pink, heels, and glam. Thank goddess for inheriting my mother's luscious locks. I love my long chestnut hair with its many layers and golden-kissed highlights. I have never been able to grow facial hair, which suits me just fine since I love my makeup as much as the next bitch.
Well, except for at work. I tone it down there since those mongrels are messy AF. RunningShelter Togetheris about the only time my serious side comes out. Those precious babies need me on my game more than me acting a fool, so I make sure I give them my all every day.
With the generous help of my grandfather, who granted me access to my trust fund early, I openedShelter Together.It took me a while to find the perfect location, but as soon as I did my research, I knew that Lakewood Falls was the perfect place to open my rescue. Unfortunately, due to lack of funding, this part of Tennessee runs into issues of pet overpopulation and most shelters end up euthanizing due to space restraints.
There was a need for a no-kill shelter, and I could provide it. I knew I'd have my work cut out for me when I decided to open my non-profit several hours from where my family name meant something, but my worry was short lived. At my grandpa and parents’ guidance, along with my vet tech degree, I majored in business, which gave me a solid foundation to run my business. The other invaluable lesson they gave me was knowledge. So much knowledge.
My grandpa had inherited the investment business from his father and taken it to a whole new level. My father loved my grandpa's business and what the company's values stand for, so he followed in his footsteps. In the spirit of giving back, since we've been blessed with more than most, my grandpa started a non-profit to help people get a new start in life—be it by getting a job, a degree, or even housing. My mother was the director for his non-profit and, according to my father, it was love at first sight.
With their help and expertise, my dream came to life right in front of my eyes.
Once we found Lakewood Falls, we started looking for property to purchase. We were able to snag a ten-acre stretch of land that butted up againstthe lake and had about five acres’ worth of forest. It would be a paradise for the animals we rescued. My main focus was domesticated animals, but I wanted the space and capability to house farm animals as well. The land we’d found fit both needs.
Even though I had the money from the trust, my mother helped me apply for some grants that funded half the cost of building the state-of-the-art facility. The other half, we raised by hosting a fundraiser for the upper elite my grandpa has been rubbing elbows with most of his life. The only thing I paid out of pocket was the barn, and that was because it doubles as my home.
The barn is also state-of-the-art and huge. It has enough stalls to house as many animals as I could manage, along with half the loft that’s my studio apartment. It's more than I could ever need and exactly what I wanted. It allows me to be close to the animals.
We opened the doors three years ago, and business has been booming ever since. I'm proud to say that it's not only strays of the animal variety I've taken in.Shelter Togetheris a safe space for queers of all kinds.
My mama had the brilliant idea of building a little dorm on the property, run by her foundation. It's a safe space for anyone who falls on the queer spectrum specifically and needs a helping hand. From her foundation, we've been able to fully staff not only my shelter but also the dorm. Our head vet is a kickass lesbian and a badass boss bitch.
So, to all those haters who harp on me for not being able to separate my work and home life, I say fuck 'em. Like Shelter Together, I'm thriving and living my best life.
At least, that's what I thought until I methim.
Chapter 2
Talon
Shooting out of my bed, I grab my pistol off the nightstand and aim it at nothing. It takes a minute for my brain to release me from the nightmare I relive when my eyes shut every night, but eventually, the deserts of Afghanistan fade and my bedroom comes back into view. My body is covered in a cold sweat as my heart pounds erratically in my chest and rapid breaths spill from my lungs.
Fucking night terrors and fucking PTSD. They've only gotten worse now that the anniversary of the worst day of my life is coming up. When I joined the Navy, I knew I'd be risking my life for my country, and that risk only became greater when I decided to become a SEAL. Like most, I had hoped that I'd be able to serve my time and come out on the other side in one piece, but as with way too many others, that just wasn't the case. Not only did I suffer a career-ending injury that almost took my ability to walk, but I also lost the love of my life.
I was one of the lucky ones. Even though the military is taking steps to be more accepting of people's orientation, that doesn't mean we're welcomed with open arms. Thankfully, my platoon knew I was gay from the beginning and was cool about it, especially since my partner was in the same unit.
Declan and I met in SEAL training, and instantly hit it off. It wasn't until we had a night off base that we realized the pull between us was more than friendship. One drunk night led to an amazing morning after and a lot of ribbing from our platoon. Right away, we told the guys what had happened and that we planned on seeing where things would go. Trust was important in our line of work, so we didn’t want to hide this from our team. The only people we kept our relationship from were the higher-ups. Our platoon leaders knew we could stick to our jobs, regardless of our relationship. We knew the risks going on every mission, but we never dwelled on them.
Until everything went to shit. We had our orders to take out a high-ranking Taliban member, but we were working off days’ old information, and something felt off from the moment our feet touched down. It was a disaster almost immediately, and we lost a lot of good men that day, including my Declan.
I took heavy shrapnel to my left side. It almost busted my leg and even damaged my spine, but thankfully, the doctors were able to repair the damage and save my leg. Well, I'm grateful now, but once I found out Declan and a good amount of my platoon was gone, I wished I would've died with them. Not only did I lose friends, but I lost the love of my life and my will to live.
