No Man Left Behind: A Veteran Inspired Charity Anthology by Elizabeth Knox (black authors fiction TXT) 📕

good and bad thing. I’ve wanted to do that for years and now that I had her in my arms and on my lips, I need her even more. Bad thing about kissing her and telling her that I’ve liked her for so long is, can I still be the hard ass that she needs to get to living again? We slowly walk back to the house.

“Sorry, we can’t hold hands right now. I guess that’s a good goal for me to strive to.” Mia seems happy now. I stop Mia at her porch.

“I want you to get better for you, not for me.” I need her to really hear this from me.

“I am doing this for me and holding your hand is a perk,” she teases. “Now, who is telling Adam?”

“Fuck. He’s going to kill me, isn’t he?” Mia laughs as she shakes her head no.

“He would want us to be happy, especially me. We can tell him now. He’s inside staring at us.” Mia waves as Adam quickly closes the curtain and opens the door.

“Hey, guys. I wasn’t spying or anything.” Adam doesn’t look upset but more like he has a secret. “Anyone want to tell me something?” He looks between Mia and me. After not saying anything Adam finally bursts, “I saw you two kissing on Main St.” He smiles. Mia and I are so confused.

“You’re not mad?” Mia is shocked.

“Hell no. My best friend and sister together. I haven’t seen you smiling like this in a long time, either one of you. Come in and get off your feet.” Adam helps Mia inside. She decides to sit in the recliner in the living room. She takes off her leg and sighs in relief.

“Darren, can you grab a pain pill from my nightstand?” I nod. Adam and Mia are talking about something and laughing. He hands me a glass of water and the pill container.

“I’ll call you with the time I’m picking you up tonight. Think about what I said. I’ll help you move.” Before I could finish the sentence, Adam stands up.

“Move, move where?” He’s flexing his hands into fists.

“Go. I’ll tell him.” I lean over to kiss her goodbye. “Be careful.” She blushes.

Michelle was able to cover me for a few hours when I tell her what I had planned. She thought it was a great idea. I’m pulling into the Edwards’ driveway and I’m all of a sudden nervous. I used to be able to just walk right in and not worry about anyone or anything but now I’m coming as hopefully Mia’s boyfriend. I knock on the door and Mia answers. She’s on a different set of crutches instead of the ones that cup her arms. These are the typical ones that you get from the ER when you sprain an ankle.

“Are you okay?” I’m worried that the walk was too much for her earlier.

“I’m okay. My leg is sore so if you don’t mind a one-legged girlfriend for tonight, I’m all yours.” She smiles at me. She really wants to leave the house with me. “Why are you knocking anyway? I don’t think you have ever knocked.”

“I wasn’t sure how to behave since I’m technically your boyfriend now.”

“You can always walk right in. You are family.” Mrs. Edwards comes from the kitchen. “I’m so glad that you two found each other. Where are you headed?”

“It’s a surprise.” I tell Mia who I know wanted to know. “I’ll try not to keep her out too late.”

I help her into my truck, and we drive about forty-five minutes. We’re talking about the bar, moving her upstairs, and how Adam did everything for her.

“What is this place? Whose house is this?” We pull up to this white mansion looking house. It is on about a hundred-acres of land with about twenty bedrooms and fifteen bathrooms, a huge kitchen and dining room.

“This is K9s for Warriors. I volunteer here.” I help her get out of the truck.

“I’ve never heard of them.” I explain to her what they are and what they do. She’s intrigued by them. I knock on the door and Albert answers.

“Darren, welcome. I didn’t know you were coming to volunteer tonight.” We walk in and I introduce Mia to Albert. “Thank you for your service.” Mia nods. She gets uncomfortable even before the accident when she would come home people were constantly thanking her.

“Remember the German shepherd puppies that came in last week?” Albert nods his head. We start walking toward the back of the house where the dogs are. “Mia suffers from PTSD, and as you can see from her leg, qualifies for a dog.”

“Do you want a service animal, Mia? Darren forgets that sometimes veterans don’t often want to get help when others want it.” I look down.

“I thought service animals were for blind people?” Mia seems interested. Albert has her sit down at the kitchen table.

“There are many types of service dogs. For example, the dog must be trained to take a specific action when needed to assist the person with a disability. A person with diabetes may have a dog that is trained to alert them when their blood sugar reaches high or low levels. A person with depression may have a dog that is trained to remind them to take their medication. Or a person who has epilepsy may have a dog that is trained to detect the onset of a seizure and then help the person remain safe during the seizure.”

“Wow. I didn’t realize there was so much you could train a dog for. I’m struggling to live. I’d rather hide from life and it’s not right.” Mia takes a deep breath. “I suffer from panic attacks, nightmares brought on by not knowing what happened to me, and I lost my leg. Cars backfiring, fireworks, loud music, and certain smells trigger me. Is there a dog that can help with that?”

“Yes, there is, but are you willing to do the work to bond with the dog and