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

Duckie lets out a loud sigh.

“See, he wants you to stay too.” I shamelessly use the dog to plead my case. “Besides, don’t ‘friends with benefits’ get sleepovers?”

“Don’t know, besides ‘friends with benefits’ became ‘Netflix and chill’ while you were serving.”

“Yeah, but morning wood is still morning wood and I’d like you to be here for that.” I grin at her, sliding back into my side of the bed. “Now, put the shirt on because I draw the line at chicks that sleep naked with dogs.”

That gets the intended laugh from her but one of her eyebrows shoots up and she looks down to her watch.

“Give me a break, I’m old.” I laugh at the look on her face. “Let’s get some sleep then, eat, and fuck again. If you’re good with that?”

“Yeah, I’m good with that,” Lucy replies softly, pulling the shirt on and snuggling into the covers. I use the distraction to take my pills—hoping for the best. Duckie gets comfortable between us and, facing her, I slide my hand under the pillows until I find her hand.

“Lucy, I want to know what happened with your ex.”

“I don’t want to talk about that with you. I hate that you even know about that part of my life, Owen.” Even in the near-dark of the room, I can see that her eyes are focused on Duckie as her other hand gently rubs circles on his side. “I was naïve and weak. Now, I just want it behind me.”

“Deal,” I say. “Just tell me if there’s anything that’s a trigger.”

“Boring sex,” she says, giggling. “I doubt that’ll be an issue with you, but really, I want to try new things. Nothing too wild, but I’ve had enough missionary to last me a lifetime.”

“Okay then. No boring sex.”

“Are you sure you’re alright with me sleeping here?”

“Can that be my version of ‘what I hate that you know about me’?” I quietly answer her question with a question and she nods. “I’ve been sleeping better, Lucy, but if you hear me dreaming can you . . .”

My voice drifts off and I wonder what the fuck I’m doing, begging her to stay but knowing I could scare the shit out of her if another nightmare takes hold of me.

“I understand, Owen.”

“How?”

“Pawpaw was in Vietnam. Back then, not only was he traumatized but then treated horribly when he returned. He and my grandmother were divorced but, well, it’s a whole long story but Dad and I lived with him for a while. None of the dogs he ever had were ever trained like Duckie but they definitely did their part in keeping him even keel.”

“Back then, I’m sure he couldn’t bring them to the store and other places, though?”

“Nope, but no one at his local watering hole cared that his dog would sit beside him.”

From the smile on her face, I can see the fondness she had for her ‘Pawpaw’ and understand why she chose the career she did.

“How long have they been dead?” I ask and she looks surprised. “Don’t figure your Pawpaw would stand for any man hurting you once, let alone any son he raised.”

“See, now, this whole casual sex thing only works if you don’t bring up my abusive ex and I don’t bring up your PTSD,” Lucy says, her smile is still in place but the warmth has faded from it.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” I immediately apologize and pull her fingers to my mouth, kissing them. The moment she traces my lips with a digit, I know we’re kicking off round two.

Thankfully, Duckie can take a hint.

Chapter Five

Lucy

Rolling off the bed after the roughest, most satisfying sex of my life, I smile back at Owen’s sleeping form as I head to the bathroom.

After a nice, long, hot shower, I wrap one of the huge towels around me and head to the fridge for a Diet Coke.

“If there’s bottled water, I’d like one.” Keith’s voice scares the everloving shit out of me; it’s all I can do to hold onto the towel.

“Fuck,” I ground out, trying not to glare at the man I need help from as I press my hand over my heart, trying to slow its beat.

“I prefer non-carbonated, but . . .”

“Will tap water do? He only has beer, Coke, and Diet Coke in here,” I ask, cutting him off as I make sure I’m fully covered before I turn to face him.

“Tap water will do,” he says, but this time I can see how amused he is by this conversation, so I roll my eyes and get him a glass before pointing him toward the sink and popping open my drink.

“I’ll go wake up Owen.”

“Actually, I came to talk to you about Anthony,” Keith informs me as he’s pouring his water. “Get dressed, by all means.”

Straightening my shoulders, I head back to the bedroom and pull on a pair of Owen’s sweatpants and my T-shirt. Duckie watches my movements closely but he understands that his charge is sound asleep and remains in place.

“I wasn’t sure if he had asked you yet,” I start off and Keith raises an eyebrow at me.

“How much do you know about your ex’s family?” Keith asks, picking an imaginary piece of lint off of his ironed jeans.

“He was on the outs with them. I met his cousin and one of his sisters, but he wouldn’t talk about them.”

“Yes, well, even ‘on the outs’, they’re well enough off to not appreciate their son being in jail and he’s due to be released next week. They swooped in with a new lawyer who requested a new judge,” Keith informs me and I sit down hard.

“Unfortunately, we were a little late to try to block this, so you have two options. I can have someone take care of him before his release or I can go talk to him after his release. Make sure he knows