I Was Gonna Be Your Forever.... (Random Updates)

Part 6

"I have coffee, and I was about to make some toast if you want some." I could be courteous..... Sometimes.

"Coffee would be wonderful, thank you." He stepped in, then to the side a little so I could close the door. His elbow was an inch from my bicep as I did so, making me tense, but I was able to step back before he noticed. This would be interesting.....

~Victor~

She was skittish. I'd dealt with a lot of people in my line of volunteering, but none had been quite like her. Usually they were depressed, with depths of sadness nothing could draw them out from. Or they were angry, wanting away from anyone and everyone. This girl didn't fall anywhere on the spectrum. Looking in her eyes, there wasn't an emotion. There was just a great emptiness that stared out at the world, as though she'd been gutted and left there without anything to replace what was taken. She was just going through the motions. If anyone fit the phrase "put them out of their misery", it was this girl. She'd flinched when she sassed me, as though expecting a blow. She'd put a wall up, and seemed to have some kind of inner debate.... and she saddened me. I was surprised when she asked me inside-it was the least I'd expected of her.... And that was when I realized I'd been staring. Oops.

"Coffee would be wonderful, thank you." Mrs. Roberts had said she got the house as ready as she could, and made it as bearable as possible considering the circumstances. She hadn't told me anything about said circumstances, only that she hoped I'd be able to actually talk to her and get a feel for her mental state. I wished she'd given me a little more of a heads up as to what I'd be dealing with.... I didn't even know how to start with this girl, and I was considered one of the best volunteers in the area. Maybe Corey would do better.... I'd have to talk to Mrs. Roberts about that. There were a few others, but I also knew that the social worker was hoping that the girl would stick within our group. We could make it work.... Axel could help Owen with the therapy angle if needed.... My thoughts kept spinning as I followed Sang inside and through the house to the kitchen. A very large dog joined her, seeming to guard her back and watch me just as warily as his mistress did. Another dog barked-deep and big-from inside the house some where.... And I wondered why she didn't have that one out here as well. I wanted to ask, I really did, but I didn't want to push her. I had a feeling I was on thin ice with her, and the ball was completely in her court.

She walked with a stiffness that indicated it was hard to turn her back to me. I didn't like it, but there was nothing I could do to ease it except wait where she'd left me. If I went to take a seat without permission she'd get jumpy, same as many of my other clients had before her. All I could do was wait and see what her move was.

"You can sit if you'd like." She gestured to the bar stools as she turned to pour more water into the coffee maker and get out two mugs and two plates. Toast popped. The smell of coffee began to fill the air, giving it a slightly warmer feel. "This is Bass, he's my therapy dog. Lass is the one upstairs, she's a bit skittish and in rehab herself so she won't come out unless she feels you're a threat."

She was trying, which surprised me-her bright green eyes flicking back over her shoulder to meet mine briefly. And dogs were neutral-this topic I could work with. Relief flooded me that I'd be able to pick up the conversation from here.

"Is Lass part of your therapy as well?" She paused, then turned, sliding a mug across the counter toward me. I waited until she let go and pulled away before I reached for it, letting her see my hands over the counter. Her shoulders started to relax.

"Yeah. I was required to get a dog to start rehabilitating, and it was highly recommended I get one to help me deal with my... issues... with being in public." She clearly tried to find a different word, and her brow creased at calling it her 'issues', her shoulders slumping slightly. A spurt of anger filled me but I closed it off, not wanting her to see it.

"Don't think of it as issues. Think of it as buttons you're desensitizing." The corner of her lip twitched, but she pushed the smile away before it could light her eyes.

"I like that explanation." She pushed toast across the counter. I relaxed, glad she was taking my small command well, and sipped my coffee. I hadn't meant it as a command but it had come out a little harder than I'd meant it to. She didn't seem to mind though, so I bit back the apology that was on the tip of my tongue. We sat in silence, not awkward but not exactly friendly either. "It was recommended that I get a guard dog, but it was required I get a rehab dog. When I went to the shelter and saw Lass, and how bonded Bass was to her, and heard their story, I took them both. He's very smart and well trained with a good back ground that was given up due to an allergy that was developed by one of the children in the family. He bonded to her in the shelter when she came in out of a dog fighting ring. He doesn't want to be without her, and she learns from him. Neither were going to get adopted, she was probably going to be put down at some point due to her own iss-buttons." Her lips twitched as she corrected herself. "And he would have gone ballistic without her, so he probably would have been put down soon after if he didn't get over it fast enough. I think he would eventually calm down if she was gone, but I don't think he'd eat or drink and thus eventually die if she was gone for good." She took a breath, sipping her coffee. I'd been drinking mine, and reached for my toast.

"It was very kind of you to take them in. Not many would take two dogs that big."

"They needed me." That simple answer, and I could see they were the only reason she was still here. They needed her to take care of them, at least until Lass was fully rehabbed. Mrs. Roberts was right, this girl needed continual help. Now.

I hoped Owen and the rest could help her.... And I knew I'd do anything I could to protect her.

~Sang~

I let the fire-eyed boy out the door, closing it and breathing deeply for a moment, putting a leash on my emotions, dragging them back and boxing them up once more. I had things to do today. I had to stop at the car shop, get the belt my jeep needed, and talk to them about getting a motorcycle. That was the next thing I had to do. Get over my motorcycle trigger. My therapist didn't know about that one, and it wasn't one that needed to be known. The last time I'd been on a motorcycle, I'd been 17 and in love with the boy I rode behind. So in love my heart still twinged at the thought of him, but I'd changed to much since then. Hearing a bike brought so many memories, throwing me back so hard and so far that it was difficult to find my way back from there. They were memories I'd have to deal with though, ones that left me a different type of gutted. I knew all about them, how to steer them, rebuild them, and so much more. Luke's uncle had had a bike, and his step brother-who was gone a lot and not really in his life as he was in Germany or Greece most of the time-had them, so he'd learned about them and thus taught me. I hadn't touched a motorcycle since I'd left back then, and it was high time I confronted that particular button.

"Lass, Bass, come." They would wait in the car while I went in, but it would be good for them to get out and go with me. Lass needed to get more used to car rides anyway.

A few minutes later we were in the jeep and going, off to the store than the mechanics.

I took a deep breath, pushing the fire-eyed boy from my mind and focusing on the task at hand. I could do this. One thing at a time.

Just. Breath.