Page 5 of Desperate Creed

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The rumble of thunder that followed was still in the distance. Creed smiled to himself. Evidently, thunder and lightning didn’t bother or impress Brodie.

“Maybe I could swim with you guys sometime.”

She was still focused on the dog. Another streak of lightning lit up the sky, and Brodie barely glanced at it. Creed looked up at her as he towel-dried the dog. In the last several months, he’d seen her flinch at the sight of a syringe and jump at the sound of a knock on the front door. But she seemed unaffected by the approaching storm.

There had to have been plenty of severe weather in Nebraska. That’s where they had finally found her, locked inside an abandoned farmhouse in the middle of nowhere.

“Thunder and lightning doesn’t bother you?” he asked, curiosity finally getting the best of him.

Her eyes darted to the windows. In that brief moment Creed caught a glimpse of the little girl he remembered. Her once long hair was cut so short it spiked up in places. She insisted it be short, sometimes taking scissors and cutting it herself. Though taller now, her adult figure was skinny, straight-hipped and flat-chested, the result of malnutrition. She looked more like a young teenager than a woman in her late twenties. And now she seemed almost embarrassed that she hadn’t given the storm proper attention. She glanced at him and shrugged.

“I was usually in the basement,” she said casually as though it was as simple as that—a basement, not a prison. “It was the one place safe from the storms,” she added.

Her eyes flicked up to the windows again and back to Creed. “Do we need to get to the basement?”

He looked up and gave the slice of darkening sky careful consideration. If Hannah had sent Brodie to bring him in she must be watching the weather forecast. He waited for the next flash of lightning then counted to himself—one one-thousand, two one-thousand, three one-thousand, four one-thousand—then came the rumble of thunder.

“The storm’s still a few miles away,” he finally answered Brodie. “I need to get Knight settled back in the kennel and check on the other dogs. But you can head back to the house if you want.”

As they approached the glass door to the outside, Brodie’s eyes darted in the direction of the kennel. From the outside, the building looked like a contemporary warehouse that had been renovated into condominiums. In fact, his loft apartment took up the second story. Brodie had been up to his living quarters through the outside access, but she’d rarely ventured into the kennel.

Lately, she seemed less afraid of the dogs. Even the way she handled Knight gave Creed hope. But he also understood the kennel could be overwhelming for her just because of the sheer number of dogs. He’d seen her walk the long way around to avoid getting too close to the fence line when the dogs were running and playing in the yard.

He was about to tell her that he’d meet her back at the house when she surprised him, again, by saying, “Maybe I can help you check on them.”

“You sure?”

He watched her eyes as she nodded. Nothing seemed to get by her. Her eyes scanned, flickered, examined everything and then started all over.

Creed opened the door and a blast of air hit him in the face. The breeze was filled with moisture—salty and warm as if the Gulf of Mexico was on the other side of the woods. It made him look up and study the clouds overhead, dark and swollen, moving slowly but not rotating. The low rumble of thunder suggested they had only a few more minutes, if that.

As they walked the short distance to the kennels he glanced at Brodie. He followed her eyes to the back door where Jason was hauling in a new delivery of dog food.

Jason Seaver was their only dog trainer and handler who lived on the property. His double-wide trailer was a stone’s throw away from the main house and the kennels. He had come to them almost two years ago, a veteran sent home from Afghanistan after an IED explosion. The first time Creed met him Jason had a chip on his shoulder, ready to wrangle anyone who raised an eyebrow at his empty sleeve where his left arm was missing. He was belligerent, sullen and even suicidal, but Hannah had insisted Jason reminded her of Creed when she’d first met him. She had offered Jason a job along with an apprenticeship.

Jason and Creed had butted heads at times, and Creed shook his head wondering what Hannah had been thinking. But just as she never questioned him when he brought another dog home, no matter how skinny and mangy the dog looked, Creed didn’t question Hannah’s wisdom. Despite their differences, Creed conceded that he and Jason did have something in common. Both of them had come home from Afghanistan angry and broken. Creed finally offered the kid the two things that had ultimately saved him...a dog and a purpose.

Creed looked over at Brodie as they came in the same door that Jason had gone in. Jason glanced up at them, not missing a beat as he stacked and unloaded. He didn’t seem to think it strange at all that Brodie was entering the one place she had been avoiding since she arrived. Another look, and now, Creed saw what may have changed her mind. She was watching Jason with a fascination on her face that Creed hadn’t seen before.

Was this new? Or had he simply missed it? How could he miss it? Jason was here every day. He was a permanent fixture of their daily lives. A part of their little family. At their dinner table almost every night.

“Everybody’s been fed,” Jason said. “They’re down and secure.”

“What about Molly?” Creed asked. “She was fidgety last time.” They hadn’t had thunder and lightning since October. Creed had rescued the mixed breed almost a year ago. The dog was the only one of her family to survive a mudslide in North Carolina. Creed’s disaster scent dog, Bolo, had pawed the ground insisting there was something underfoot when the rescuers could see only a sheet of metal buried in the ground. The metal ended up being the chassis of a vehicle.

“She’s good,” Jason said. “She’s cuddled up next to Bolo. Those two are pretty tight.” He grinned at Brodie. “Bolo sort of rescued her. Did I tell you that story?”

She nodded. “Yes, I remember. I like that one.”

Creed looked from Brodie to Jason and back. Something on his face must have alerted Jason, because suddenly, the grin disappeared.

“I’ve been telling Brodie about the dogs, so she can get to know them.”

Jason misunderstood Creed’s look of surprise as disapproval and went on to explain, “You know, so she’s not so afraid of them.”

He hadn’t noticed that the two of them were spending time together. How had he not noticed that?