Page 66 of Beckett
I loaded the bag into the trunk, Jet still right at my feet.
“I’m not just talking to you, you know.” The admission slipped out as I closed the trunk. “These things I’m saying… They’re for Beckett too. But I can’t tell him. Can’t risk it.”
Jet whined again, pressing harder against my leg.
“If I told him, if I explained about the stalker, about the photos, about the threat—he wouldn’t let me go. And I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to him because of it.” I opened the back door of my car. “Come on, boy. Get in.”
Jet jumped into the back seat without hesitation. I started the engine, keeping my headlights on dim as I headed toward the dog kennels. The familiar path I’d walked or driven so many times with Jet now felt like a goodbye tour.
“He won’t let me go,” I repeated, navigating the short drive slowly. “Beckett would try to protect me. Would insist on some security plan, would want to stand and fight. And that might get him killed.”
The kennel buildings came into view, dark except for the security lights Beckett had installed. I parked near the dog housing area and sat for a moment, hands gripping the steering wheel.
“I could barely make it through dinner tonight.” Fresh tears spilled over. “Sitting there, trying to smile, trying to act normal.”
I got out and opened the back door. Jet jumped down but immediately pressed against my leg, like he understood what was happening.
“I should have left town as soon as I got that picture this afternoon.” I walked toward the housing area, Jet glued to my side. “Should have driven straight out of Montana. But I couldn’t. Not on his birthday. Not without saying goodbye to you.”
I walked with Jet inside the dog housing building. The other dogs stared at us silently like they weren’t sure if this was a super-early start to the day or if we were just lost. Jet started to whine softly.
I knelt down and threw my arms around him. “You are the goodest boy, just as you are. You helped heal something in me I thought could never be fixed.”
And now was breaking again.
I buried my face in the fur of his neck, forcing back sobs. I had to get out of here right now, or I didn’t know if I was going to make it. I forced myself to stand.
I pointed to the kennel that had been Jet’s before he’d come to stay with me at the cabin. “Come on, boy. Kennel up.”
Jet looked at the kennel, then back at me. Didn’t move.
“Please, Jet. Don’t make this harder.”
He sat down right where he was, those brown eyes fixed on mine. Stubborn.
I thought of the training techniques Beckett had taught me. Clear commands, confident energy, no room for negotiation. I squared my shoulders, even though everything in me was breaking apart.
“Jet. Kennel.” I pointed to the crate, putting all the authority I could muster into the command. “Now.”
He stood slowly, tail drooping. Walked to the crate like he was heading to his execution. The moment he was inside, I shut the door, and he immediately turned around, pressing his nose through the wire.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I took the T-shirt of mine I had purposely set on top of my backpack. I really couldn’t afford to give up the shirt—especially now that the money I had in my pocket was all I had to keep me going for a while—but I wanted to leave something of me with him. I pushed it through the wire,and Jet immediately pulled it in, circling once before lying down on top of it.
“You remember me, okay?” I touched the wire of the crate one last time. “You remember that I didn’t want to leave.”
I stood, legs shaking. Made myself walk away even though Jet had started whining. A soft, desperate sound that followed me out the door.
Back in my car, I sat for a moment, trying to compose myself. I needed to go. Every minute I stayed increased the danger to everyone here.
Maybe one day, I’d be able to come back. Maybe when all of this was over, when the stalker was caught or gave up…
I couldn’t finish the thought. Started the engine instead.
Maybe I’d be able to explain everything to Beckett then. Maybe he’d be able to forgive me for disappearing without a word.
The gates of Pawsitive Connections loomed ahead, marking the boundary between the safety I’d found and the running that awaited. I slowed, taking one last look in the rearview mirror. The lights of the kennels twinkled in the distance, peaceful and protected.
Then I turned my eyes back to the darkness that waited in front of me. It was time to go.
