Page 105 of Keeping Knight

“I didn’t forget about you,” I tell her as I stroke her sleek head. “You love the ocean, don’t you?”

Her tail whips into a frenzy. “I’d say that’s a yes,” Micah says with a laugh. “Although I can’t say I’m surprised. Labs are known for loving the water.”

I unwind Piper’s leash from around my hand, giving her more leeway to explore. I won’t let her off-leash like Micah will do with Sampson, since Piper’s still a puppy. For a ten-month-old, she’s doing extremely well—she knows all her basic commands, and according to Micah, she’s picking up defensive skills quickly. It’ll take at least another year until she’s fully trained in personal protection, but already, I feel safer when she’s with me.

It was about a month after everything went down with Henry at the condo, and Micah and I had just moved into our new brownstone, when Micah brought up the topic of getting a second dog. “How would you feel about getting your own dog?” he asked. “We could have it trained to provide personal protection and to help with your PTSD. Plus, with our new backyard, we’ve got the room. And I bet Sampson would like someone to play with.”

I knew Micah wanted the dog for his own reassurance as much as for me. He worried when he had to go out of town for work, or when he brought Sampson along with him on a job. He’d always coordinate to have his friends come to check on me, even if he was only gone for a night. If I had a personal protection dog that would always be with me, he’d worry a little less. And I knew it would make me feel better, too.

So I said yes. And Micah contacted a guy he knew from the Army, Griffin, who works out in central New York as a K9 officer for the Syracuse PD. Griffin knew someone who bred and trained labrador retrievers, so he made some calls, and within a matter of days, Micah and I were headed out to Rochester to meet Piper.

“She’s got a great temperament,” Briar, the trainer, told us. “Eager to please, highly trainable, and she’s fairly calm for the breed. I think she could be exactly what you’re looking for.”

And that was that. We made arrangements to adopt Piper, and two weeks later, we brought her home for good. Now it’s the four of us, living in a brownstone just down the street from Rogue and Sofia, and honestly, I’ve never been happier.

“I’m so glad we could find a place that let us bring the dogs,” I say, smiling at Piper as she watches a seagull with avid interest. “I would have hated to leave them at home.”

“We’ll always find a place that accepts the dogs,” Micah replies. “I’ll make sure of it.”

We both turn towards the water, going quiet at the splendor of the brilliant sunrise reflecting over the ocean waves. The sky looks as perfect as a painting, awash in warm golds and oranges and shadowed with blue. A small flock of seagulls darts across the sky, calling to each other. Down the beach, a childish voice can be faintly heard exclaiming, “Oooh, look at the colors!”

Standing here, looking out at the water, it feels almost as if I’ve stepped back in time. I can almost imagine, if I turned to my right or left, I’d see my parents on either side of me. I can see the soft smile on my mom’s face, and the love in my dad’s eyes as he looked at her. I can feel their hands wrapped around mine.

But it’s not sad. Not like I thought it would be. Because I do feel them here. I feel their love. Their support. And I know, without a single doubt, that they’re happy for me.

Tears press behind my eyes as I think about my parents and Micah meeting. They would love him so much. My mom would pull me aside to tell me how great Micah is. My dad would pat Micah on the shoulder and call him son. And when I told my parents that Micah was the man I wanted to spend my life with, they’d understand why.

“I feel them here,” I finally say.

Micah turns to me. “Your parents?”

I nod. “But it doesn’t make me sad, like I was worried about. I think they’re happy. Because they know how happy I am.”

The rising sun casts a golden glow across Micah’s face, catching the angles of his features and throwing them into shadow. His gaze softens. “Are you? Happy?”

I stare at him for a second. Then I smile and shake my head at him. “Micah. What kind of question is that? Of course I’m happy. I was just thinking how I’ve never been happier.”

“Really?” His lips curve. “Happier than you’ve ever been?”

I don’t have to think about it. “Yes. Absolutely.” Leaning against him, I stretch up to kiss his cheek. “I have you. I have Piper and Sampson. I have all our friends. I love my job. And our house… it’s nicer than anything I could have ever imagined living in. Life is good.” I stop. “No. Life isn’t good. It’s incredible.”

“Rue.” Emotion works in Micah’s eyes. “I’m so glad. Nothing matters more than knowing you’re happy.” A beat later, he amends, “Well, and protecting you. Of course.”

“My knight.” I kiss him again. His jaw is slightly rough since he hasn’t shaved yet, and he smells of summer. His skin is warm on my lips. “I’m very happy, Micah. And I feel very protected.”

Not that there’s anything to protect me from anymore; at least, nothing we know about. Henry is in jail, currently serving a twenty-five-year sentence. “You won’t have to worry about him even after that,” Micah swore after the judge handed down his verdict. “He’ll never hurt you again. That’s a promise.”

As for Sylvia, I was relieved to know she had nothing to do with the attempts on my life. She contacted me shortly after Christmas in tears, explaining how her grief made her say things she deeply regretted. “It wasn’t you,” she sobbed. “It was me. I felt guilty. But I took it out on you. And I’m so sorry.”

She’s been in counseling, and I think it’s helping. Every couple of weeks, she texts me—no accusations, just little things she remembered about my dad or asking how I’m doing—and I text her back. We’ll never be close, or even friends, but I’m willing to stay in touch. I think my dad would like that.

Micah glances back out at the ocean. His expression is pensive. Then he looks back at me. “I’m happy too, Ruby. So happy. Sometimes I still can’t believe how much.”

My heart squeezes. “I love you, Micah.”

Emotion softens his gaze. “I love you, too.”

Then he whistles, low and short, the command for the dogs to listen. They immediately turn towards him, their expressions alert and questioning. “Come,” Micah says. He gestures for both of them to stand beside him. “Stay.”