In Your Arms: A Small Town Love Story (Safe Haven Book 1) (28 page)

“
W
e need
her to join in the fight, Marlo, and she’s not doing it.”

They had moved Fala out into the waiting room in the last of the sun, trying to get her motivated to do something, anything. Anything but lie there.

Marlo nodded, agreeing. “Is she deteriorating?”

Jeff’s arm circled her shoulder. “Well, she’s not improving. I want more from her.”

Marlo wanted more from her, too. Much more. Years more.

The numb feeling that existed since she’d found Fala earlier that day hadn’t thawed. Watching the dog, she willed the next deep inhalation, too scared to look away in case her gaze inspired each breath.

Something scratched at the clinic door. She ignored that and the person who called out, “Wait, you’ll wreck the paint.” The voice was accented, and, while she was still questioning the sound, her body had this autonomous response and the thaw began. As the numbness left her, that heat remained, and it was right about then the door opened. In seconds she was knocked flat to the floor and covered with kisses and saliva and…
that breath.

She pushed herself up, and the dog that had flattened her jumped off and ran to Fala, skidding on the linoleum floor and bumping into her dog bed. He lowered his head and gently nuzzled her mouth.

Fala moved for the first time in an hour, lifting herself to lick at the dog’s muzzle. Justice’s muzzle.

“Justice!” Marlo opened her arms.

The skinny red-and-white dog threw himself at her again in a whirlwind of paws and mouth and tail and tongue, trying to climb right into her arms. Dog rules were ignored as she allowed Justice to burn the wild pleasure out of his system.

Finally, he slowed, and at that moment Marlo had to deal with the other guy who had entered the building. The one leaning against the wall with his feet casually crossed as he aimed a big broad grin at her. The kind of grin that stuttered her heart. She froze and watched him, because the chaos inside her threatened to break her if she tried to move.

She tested a smile. Just a small one that wouldn’t lower the drawbridge to her emotions, because she’d spent the time since he’d left keeping the castle contents safe. And she wasn’t jeopardizing that.

He matched hers with his megawatt smile that illuminated her and made her glow. He pushed off the wall and stepped toward her, and she thought she may never breathe again, because most of her didn’t seem to be working anymore.

His hands took her shoulders, steadying her. “Hello,” he said.

“Hey,” she managed and stole a look upwards, and yeah, those eyes were still fathomless. “Uh…you are here?”

“Yes, I’m here,” he replied, and she could see the control it took for him to restrain a laugh.

“And Justice is here?”

“Uh-huh, right here, lying on our feet.”

They both looked down. Justice grinned back and bashed his tail on the floor a couple of times.

“So am I dreaming?”

Adam sucked in a breath. “God, I hope not.” His gaze darted from her eyes to her mouth as if trying to read every confused cue. His mouth was tentative.

The fact that he needed a bit more air, that she witnessed the little tremor of uncertainty…that was what Marlo needed to see. He wasn’t holding this together much better than she was.

She heard a car engine start and glanced to the window, remembering that this is how it had all began…a leaving car, Adam, and a dog he’d just helped deliver. Was this how it would begin again?

Vince drove from the parking lot. So typical of him to slip away when he thought he was no longer needed.

When she turned back, she realized that Jeff had also left the room. Now there was her and Adam and the panting dog that didn’t want to move from her feet.

“I need to sit down.” She took the couple of steps to the waiting room bench seat and sat on its padded vinyl cushion.

Fala came over and pushed her nose into Marlo’s hand.

“Fala’s up.” She swiped her hand over her eyes and stood and called for Jeff. “Fala’s up, walking.”

He entered the waiting room and paused, looking as bewildered as she felt. “I’m not sure where to start,” he said.

Marlo nodded.
I’m not, either.

“That’s great about Fala. She’s probably had a bit of a rush from seeing Justice. I’m happy for you to take her home this evening, and I’ll tell you some things to watch out for. If you see any of them, you phone me, even if it’s the middle of the night. Otherwise bring her back in the morning, so I can check her again. Oh, and Sally said that she’ll drop one of her witch’s brews at your house for Fala on her way back from town. It’s probably there already.”

“I think Sally prefers it if you refer to her potions as homeopathic remedies.” Marlo watched Fala, who now lay at Adam’s feet, renewing her status in the fan-club-of-one. That was an image she would happily get used to.

Jeff rolled his eyes. “Sure, got it. Mustn’t upset Spooky Sally or she’ll cast a spell on me. Now, what about Justice? I’d better check ultra-marathon dog out.”

Marlo flicked Adam a
do you mind?
look. “Can you wait?”

“I’ve got all the time in the world.” He smiled.

A
dam poured
them each a glass of wine as Marlo fixed dinner for the dogs. Justice had checked out fine. He did appear to have had an altercation with a vehicle at some stage in his journey, but his wounds were scrapes and well-healed. The pads of his paws were worn and had minor lacerations. Mainly, he was hungry.

Even Fala ate a little food before she went to her basket, where Justice soon joined her.

“So…us.” Adam had stepped up behind her as she cleaned the dog dishes.

Marlo turned and leaned against the bench and concentrated on each breath. This close to him, she could feel her body on high alert, little parts of her soliciting his touch.
Settle
. “Us. Tell me…”

He took her hand and led her through to the sitting room, steering her to the sofa. “Sit with me.”

She sat. Adam joined her, pulling her right in until she was tight with him.

“This is sitting with me.” His arm had draped around her shoulder, but his hand clasped her firmly. “Tense.” His word was hot in her ear.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I’m confused. I don’t know why you’re here, and I can’t get on another adrenaline fun ride with you, only to have you leave again.”

He pressed a light kiss to the top of her head. “I’m here. So long as your government will have me, I’m here. That’s not to say there won’t be a few more adrenaline rides. You need them—you’re a shock junkie.”

“Thank you. I think.”

“CRAR offered me a job…”

Marlo pushed herself up. “What? Really? How come I didn’t know?”

“I asked them not to tell you.”

Spores of disappointment settled and clung like a late summer blight. This sounded familiar.

“I know, you’d think I would learn.”

It seemed he still read minds.

“Listen, hon, I tried to settle at home. I resigned from the police and went back to the farm and did my best farmer impersonation. And that’s what it was, an impersonation. I was so unhappy. When I was down at the cottage, all I could think of was having you there, sharing the place with you, watching sunsets together, teaching you to surf. Then came the news that although there would be no funding from any organizations back home for the Flying Squad, CRAR were going to take up the idea. James Mansell phoned and offered me the job.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I would have, but I wanted to be certain that everything would come together. Despite Mansell’s call, the position could quite easily have fallen through, or I could have been refused a work visa…so much potential for stuff going wrong.

“And hell, it really did go wrong. At my farewell dinner my father had a heart attack, which blew apart any notion I had of leaving the farm.”

“Oh, Adam, I’m so sorry. How is he?”

“He needs to take things easy for some time, but he’s going to be okay. Can you see now how it would have been if you’d been told I was coming back, only to have me pull out?”

He had protected her for the right reasons.

“I’ve made promises to you before, and I’ve let you down. I don’t ever want to do that again. The only way I could honestly and with certainty say to you that I was coming back was when I drove up to your door.”

“And now you’re here.” Inside of her was a little tremble, a flutter like the heart pace of a small bird. She tested a smile a couple of times, a small lift at the corner of her mouth, like a tic.

“Now I’m here.” He reached an arm behind her knees and swung her so that she draped over his lap. “I need you closer,” he whispered, and, as his thigh muscles flexed, she allowed herself to find the first ripple of pleasure.

“Marlo, I know in the past I’ve had moments when I’ve made decisions on your behalf, and pretty much all of them backfired. I saw you as fragile and vulnerable, but what I hadn’t seen was your bravery and your ability to step up and take care of yourself. And the dogs. And the people around you. When I was in New Zealand, I was so lost, missing a vital piece of me, and I thought you were probably here getting along fine.”

“Except I wasn’t.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“I’ve become stronger because of you, Adam. I always thought that doing things alone would make me stronger, help me through my fears, but you let me see that by asking for help, by partnering up with someone to walk with you through the difficult bits, that’s what makes you stronger.”

He reached up to cup her cheek, and she saw the flash of hurt cross his eyes as she pulled away.

“Stop.”

His hand fell to her lap. “Sure, hon, stopping right now.”

She sat up. “Show me your hands.”

“You going to punish me?”

“Hands.”

“Okay.” He stretched his hands out toward her, and she gripped his fingertips, staring at them. Gradually, she stretched a finger down and rubbed the tip over the indentation on the ring finger of his left hand. Up and down, she moved her finger, unable to stop herself touching the empty spot. When at last she could form the words, she asked, “Did you lose it?”

She waited as he drew a slow, deep breath. “I buried it.”

“Oh…oh, heck. Are you okay with that?”

His eyes gleamed.

“Totally okay. Liberated. You are the person I wanted when I was at home, and, in fairness to you, I had to be certain of that. I am now. I wasn’t going to come back unless I honestly believed in
us.
”

“So you’re staying?” Her voice pitched higher with each question.

“If you’ll have me.”

She leaned back in to him. “You can take that kiss now.”

They met halfway, their lips touching, recognizing, and a little hesitant.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he spoke against her mouth.

“Right with you on that one,” she replied, as she swept the tip of her tongue along his bottom lip.

He caught it with his own tongue and moved in and took control of the kiss, deepening it, asking for everything she had, and the answer she gave him was exactly right. Pleasure and emotion collided and washed through him as he took possession of her, laying her back on the cushions.

He saw movement in his periphery and he broke off the kiss, sighed, and sat up. Fala was beside them.

“Fala needs to go out.” Marlo went to stand, and Adam grabbed her wrist, catching her to him. “First, there’s something I want to say. I’ve said it to myself. I’ve told my parents, and my brother, Clive. Even Emma knows.”

“Emma?”

“Yeah, I know, weird, huh?”

He took hold of her chin and tipped her face towards him. The brilliant blue of his eyes were so bright they startled the breath from her.

“I love you, Marlo. You’re woven through my entire heart so that I’m only complete when I’m with you. I hope that there’s space in your heart, alongside the pieces the dogs have, for some love for me, because I can’t possibly ever leave you again.”

Marlo’s chest pounded because this was more than she could ever have dreamed for. She drew gulps of air as something that mixed joy with tears cascaded through her. “We almost lost each other. I can’t believe you’re back. I love you too, Adam, but it frightens me. I’ve never had this feeling for another person, and I’ve been empty since you left.” She thumped his chest with a balled up fist. “Don’t ever leave me again.”

He caught her fist and kissed it. As he drew it back to her side, Justice reached up with a paw and tapped at their hands.

Adam shook his head, laughing as he turned and saw Fala and Justice eagerly watching them. “It looks like Fala
and
Justice need to go out, now.” He swung himself from the sofa. “Stay there, I’ll take them. It’s probably my turn.”

Marlo gave a soft laugh. “Welcome home.”

T
hank
you for reading
In Your Arms
!I hope you've enjoyed it!

Some dogs come to rescue overwhelmed with relief and gratitude at being saved from their plight. With a little encouragement they are ready to engage and move on with their rehabilitation. Others arrive so shutdown their recovery is a miracle.

This is the fictional story of Justice, a pit bull terrier rescued from a dog fighting ring. Justice’s story was originally told in this book
.
A number of readers remarked that they wished the story had
more about the dog
, rather than the development of the romance between Marlo and Adam.

Here Justice tells his story (a dog’s point of view). After this, keep reading for a sneak peak at book 2 in this series, “A Scarred Soul”.

M
y name is Justice
.

I am a male pit bull terrier, born and bred to be mans' unwitting fighting machine.

I am
game.

However, I never believed fighting was my life's purpose. I had something far greater to achieve than what I could with my physical strength. My purpose was to show that through love and forgiveness, trust can be earned.

In the beginning I believed my heart had enough courage to carry out the role I was born to play, but the longer I remained chained to an axle, hungry and drugged, bereft of love, the more my courage seeped away.

The day the strangers arrived filled me with fear. It was both my first and last chance to fulfill my intended role on this earth.

M
y name
was
Assassin
.

I'd worn a circle in the hard dirt, where I paced around the axle to which I was attached. The chain around my neck was a heavy yoke, put there to tether me and to build up my muscle with additional help from the steroids I was regularly injected.

Other dogs were with me in the clearing at the edge of the woods, each tethered to their own immovable object. Although we could see each other we couldn't make physical contact so we lived in a state of permanent, angry, frustration.

We were fed, though there was never enough unless we were being conditioned to fight. Our water containers were colonized by mosquitoes and algae. I knew no kindness from man. Even though I’d won many fights for him, there came no discernible thanks, no special privileges.

I try not to recollect my fighting experiences, although in my mind those experiences are still easily accessed. The sharp prick of a needle meant my veins filled with a drug that coursed through me, spiking my fear, anger and a desire to fight my way out of the bloodied urine-stained pit one more time. The memories still come to me when I sleep.

Between fights was the appalling monotony of the tether. Chaining intelligent sentient creatures destroys our minds and robs us of spirit. At first when the dogmen came for me I wagged my tail with optimism, but I soon learned daily attention resulted in six weeks’ of hard training and conditioning before a fight.

It didn’t take long for the appearance of a dogman to make me tuck my tail between my hind legs, curve my back and lower my hindquarters and head. All appeasing signals I made were either unseen or ignored. My only chance of survival was through fighting.

T
he strangers arrived at dawn
.

This in itself signaled something very different, and roused my suspicion. I was weary from a recent fight, and still ached from wounds I was tied too short to lick. I watched as other dogs ran to the end of their chains, tails wagging to greet the strangers only to duck away in retreat when they came too close.

I stayed in a position of permanent retreat hoping they would simply pass me by, but these people were different. Their scent was foreign; their demeanor lacked the staunch aggression I was accustomed to. One-by-one the other dogs were led away until only I was left. A woman approached and crouched near me. She stayed side-on, not making eye contact and speaking in a soft voice. In another time her crooning would have brought me a rush of pleasure, but now the sounds could not penetrate the barrier I had in place.

When her hand moved to something concealed within her clothing I curled my lip. Some of my teeth may have been broken but I knew how to use them to maximum efficiency. She removed her hand and I caught the scent of food. I was so hungry the pain in my stomach often made it difficult for my mind to process anything beyond the drive to eat, but I didn’t trust her. She dropped the food within my reach and I turned my head and stared at the deep wound on my hind leg where the flies gathered.

Although fixed in my state of withdrawal, I never took my focus off her. Tears ran down her cheek, and I watched, unmoved.

A man joined her. He crouched too and they talked in their soft voices and I hoped soon they would go so that I could eat the small piece of food left on the ground.

One more attempt to get me to eat was made by the man but I no longer had any idea about how to engage with people beyond keeping my focus low.

When at last I got my wish—when they stood and walked until they reached the point that they vanished—I felt something tug inside of me. I no longer knew what was good for me but I couldn’t help but wonder why they hadn’t tried harder.

Four of them returned with a cage and poles and ropes. A fresh spike of adrenaline made me stand and show them my gameness, but there was a war taking place within me. I’d felt something after I watched the woman walk and I wanted to feel that again.

The cage was opened and more food was placed inside. The heavy chain was removed from around my neck and I stiffened, preparing myself for whatever was to come. Instead I was coaxed and encouraged into the cage. I kept an eye on the woman because if I was going to believe in anyone it would have to be her.

They loaded my crate inside a vehicle along with those of other dogs from my group. We were all excited but not necessarily in a good way. Some panted and drooled, some urinated, and others, like me, folded in on themselves.

When the van finally stopped, we were lifted out and taken to a large concrete enclosure. From there we were separated and taken to individual kennels that had concrete floors and walls, and a metal-barred door. I took myself to the corner and curled up on the floor. This was a new prison—cold and hard after the warm dirt I was accustomed to. I had been foolish to trust the woman.

Here my water dish was full, the water clean, and later the woman returned with more of her soft words and food. I lay myself flat on the floor, faced the corner and refused to engage with her.

The smells and the noise of the place, the acoustics that amplified the echo of barks, despondent howls, human voices, and the clanging of doors, all came together to hurt my ears and scramble my mind. A fluorescent light flickered at a terrific speed that troubled my eyes. All the while, the dog in the room next to me barked incessantly at a spinning fan while the dog across the hall barked at the barking dog.

S
ometime later I
was taken from my enclosure and into a brightly lit room. Fear flooded through me when I felt the familiar sting of a needle and I waited for the familiar rush of the drug. Instead I was overwhelmed with a sense of tiredness, and then everything went black.

When I awoke, I was back in my cage, and my wounds were bandaged. Relief rolled through me, my body reacting well to the care taken with my torn and inflamed flesh. My skin felt clean, the itchiness relieved, although I didn’t like the smell.

My days became routine. Food, then when my cage was to be cleaned and hosed out, I was removed and tethered across the corridor. Most of the dogs went outside during this time but I had no desire to see what was beyond my four walls and any attempt to take me further than the corridor resulted in a panic attack. I was content to curl in the corner, as far away from the door as I could, staring at the chips and gouges in the cement, attempting to block out the noise.

Time meant nothing to me with no break in routine, no let-up from the incessant barking and clanging, nor the demarcation of sunrise and set, the moon and stars that I’d been accustomed to. Some dogs left and I don’t know where they went, but their disappearance unsettled me. It was impossible to predict what would happen to the dogs in my group from day-to-day.

Once my wounds healed the people at the shelter tried many ways to encourage me outside with them but I’d disconnected from my emotions. The only thing I understood to be good for me was to stay in my kennel. There I knew I would have food and water, and I couldn’t see that I had any needs beyond that.

They stood outside my kennel after one of these attempts and discussed whether having me put to sleep would be the kindest option as my chances of rehabilitation and rehoming were so low.

A few days later two men came for me; one with a different voice to the others. They brought a transport crate into my enclosure, similar to the one I’d travelled in from the ranch where we had fought. They had to lift me in as I still wouldn’t stand in the presence of people and my muscle bulk had atrophied, adding to my weakness. My crate was placed in a vehicle and we travelled for a long time. The bumping and corners upset my stomach, but I hadn’t eaten that day so I couldn’t tell the difference between nausea and hunger.

I didn’t concern myself with our destination beyond wondering if this was my final journey.

It was dark when we eventually stopped and I prepared myself for more change. To try to guess whether this new place would be good or bad for me was futile, so I remained in my closed-off state. My soul seemed to have left me so long ago that I could no longer draw on any enthusiasm for my future.

T
he van door
opened and the two men who had removed me from the shelter carried my crate through the dark night to another compound. A woman followed and although she spoke with kind words, I didn’t care for her, or anyone else.

My crate was set down in another kennel and the door opened. The people stood back and waited but I refused to come out. Soon only the woman remained. She dismantled the crate and carried me to lie on some soft blankets deep in the corner of the cage. I felt a small ripple of relief that she understood my need to be in a corner, far away from the door. I didn’t care for anything except remaining as insignificant as possible. I wanted to physically follow where my spirit had gone, or not exist at all.

She sat beside me and spoke softly as she stroked my head and ears, and I lay there, unable to stop the trembling that shook my body. Later she went away, returning with some food that smelled so good, but I wouldn’t touch it until I was alone.

“You’re safe now, little guy.”

I had no point of reference for her words. All I knew was fighting and then the noise and harshness of the shelter. If there were other dogs around they were quiet and without scent, so I presumed I was alone in my new place of confinement.

When the sun rose all I heard were some birds, but I could smell many different things. I lifted my head and sifted through the scents carried on a breeze that drifted from outside. Soon I heard footsteps and the woman who had visited the night before was back. Always the soft talking from her and I could tell she wanted something from me but I had nothing to give. When she opened the door to my kennel I saw a large grassy area outside, but was completely unmoved.

The woman said a lot of things to me, most of which I didn’t understand because I couldn’t make any attempt to listen.

“My name is Marlo,” she explained. “Your name is Justice. Not Assassin. You’ll never be called that again. We’re going to get justice for you, okay?”

She was crouched alongside me. “You need to come outside with me and pee.”

I wanted to stay where I was. I could hear the peace beyond my door, but I wanted to experience it right where I lay. In any case, I couldn’t stand. My fear and complete loss of will made it impossible.

Marlo came closer and my heart hammered. What did she want now? No matter how hard I tried to tell her with my body language and my demeanor that I wanted to be left alone, she continued at me with her tender insistence.

Ignoring my reluctance to stand she slipped an arm under my shoulder and another under my hindquarters and carried me out to the grass. There, she lowered me to the ground, supporting me until I stood square on all four feet. I peed where I stood, took a couple of steps and collapsed, not so much through weakness but because I felt totally overwhelmed—touch, sight, scent, fear—everything colliding. I could sense her dismay and although I had no desire to fix this in the way I would have when I was a pup, it felt good to finally
feel
something. She swiped at her face with her hands and again I had this idea that since my rescue, all I did was make people sad.

“Try this, Justice, please?”

She was holding out a piece of chicken but all I could see was her hand and all I knew was that I had to be on guard. Marlo left me outside in the sun with more chicken in a clean dish. I waited until she left before I tried some. It was delicious but I had gone so long without food, eating made my stomach cramp. Still, when I’d finished I longed for more.

Above me the sky seemed to stretch forever. A couple of birds came down to check my bowl after I was done eating but there wasn’t a scrap left for them. I used to bark at the birds in the other place where I wore my heavy chain like a symbol of enslavement, but now I allowed them to examine my dish without complaint.

Marlo returned later with one of the men who transported me the previous night.

“Hey, Justice, I’m Adam,” he said. He had a kindness in him that gave me the idea he wouldn’t harm me. They spent some time trying to encourage me to walk but I couldn’t get everything together to accomplish something that was once so simple—the emotional need to trust them while I struggled with the physical aspect of walking.

This became my new life pattern. Marlo, Adam and another woman, Lulah, would visit me regularly through the day bringing food and encouraging me outside to walk. Marlo would massage me each morning, working my limbs that now ached through lack of use. Although I still believed my spirit had deserted me when I started fighting, and a feeling of oneness continued to elude me, if my days were to be spent in this manner I couldn’t wish for more. The grass enclosure was large, not that I had a need for space, and the birds and squirrels gave me something to watch. When compared to being strung-out and chained to an axle, I had found peace.

O
ne day
I was out in the enclosure, Marlo and Adam on the other side of the chain link fence. I’d come to enjoy having them nearby, and the background noise of their voices. Today they behaved differently. I sensed excitement in them and if I’d thought about it I’d have realized that in a small way I’d begun to find myself because I was starting to experience the vibration of human emotion.