Page 10 of Beckett
While Beckett reset the other three dogs for another drill, Jet noticed me cleaning water bowls near the fence. His head tilted, those intelligent brown eyes studying me with curiosity instead of staying on his trainer. Then, decision made, he trotted over.
“Jet,” Beckett called, firm but not harsh. “Back in position.”
But Jet had already reached me, sitting just out of reach, tail sweeping the dirt in slow, hopeful arcs.
“Hey, boy.” I kept my voice soft, glancing at Beckett. “You’re supposed to be training.”
His tail wagged harder. When I didn’t immediately pet him, he scooted closer, until his nose brushed my hand, gentle as a question.
“I’m sorry,” I called to Beckett, wrapping my fingers lightly around Jet’s collar. “I’ll bring him back.”
I walked Jet back to the training area, feeling Beckett’s storm-gray eyes tracking our movement. The other three dogs remained in perfect position, waiting for their next command. Jet, meanwhile, kept trying to lean against my leg.
“He’s drawn to you,” Beckett said, his tone unreadable.
“I didn’t mean to distract him.”
“Wasn’t blaming you.” He took Jet’s collar from me, our fingers brushing for half a second. “Some dogs are built forprotection work. Others…” He looked down at Jet, who was now trying to sniff my pocket for treats. “Others are built for something else.”
“He seems sweet.”
“Sweet doesn’t stop threats.” But there was no harshness in his words, just fact. Beckett moved his hand to scratch behind Jet’s ears, the gesture unconsciously gentle. “Go on, back to the kennel. We’re done for today.”
Jet hesitated, looking between Beckett and me, then surprised us both by walking back to sit beside me instead.
Beckett’s mouth twitched—not quite a smile, but close. “Looks like you’ve been chosen.”
“I don’t—I’m just here to clean.”
“Tell that to him.”
Jet settled beside me while I worked, a warm presence that asked for nothing but proximity. Every time I glanced up, Beckett was there with the other three dogs, putting them through their paces. Professional. Focused. Existing in his bubble of controlled calm.
Must be nice, having that kind of steadiness. That certainty in your own capability. No wonder Todd had admired him. When Beckett finished, he put all four dogs back in their crates. Jet seemed sad to leave me, but I knew that couldn’t be right.
By late afternoon, my body ached in ways that had nothing to do with fear. Good aches. Earned aches. As the sun was getting close to setting, Lark paid me. I had to force myself not to clutch the money like a lifeline.
“I leave for a couple weeks starting tomorrow. I’ll just pay you when I get back, if that’s okay? If for some reason you need to head out of town before then, let Beckett know and he’ll pay you, and I’ll pay him back.”
I grimaced. That was so reasonable, but it also meant I only had yesterday’s and today’s money to get me through the next two weeks. I forced myself to nod. “Yes. Of course.”
“Great. Try not to let him scare you off.” She said it lightly, but there was concern underneath.
“He won’t.” Survival was more important than worrying if one of my brother’s friends liked me or not.
I walked to my car then drove away like I was heading to town, watching mirrors until the Pawsitive property disappeared behind trees. Then I pulled off onto a logging road I’d passed that morning, partially hidden by overgrowth. Killed the engine. Waited.
An hour. Two. Until dusk painted everything purple and gray.
Then I grabbed my sleeping bag and backpack and made my way back through the woods. It took a while, but that was okay.
The shed was exactly as I’d left it. Dark. Empty. Waiting.
I blocked the door with crates, spread my sleeping bag in the corner where I could see all approaches. Changed into my warmest layers. Ate two precious spoonfuls of peanut butter and half a slice of bread.
Through the gaps in the walls, I could see lights from the main house. Beckett would be staying there starting tomorrow.
Did he ever think about Todd?
