A firm hand would help with that. He closed off the thought and turned away.
Jim helped him into the truck, and he watched Triton in the side view mirror until the man’s small form faded from view. Why the fuck did he feel like he was leaving a piece of himself behind?
“It was nice having you around, Diesel,” Jim remarked.
“Thanks, Jim. I’m sorry I have to take off so soon.”
“When you have obligations, that’s the way it is. Family comes first.”
“Take care of him.” He rubbed at the tightness in his chest.
“If he’ll let us, we will. He was treated like trash and then tossed away by his mom and dad. That boy’s got trust issues. He believes he doesn’t deserve better. That’s not a battle others can win for him. He’s got to do that from inside.”
Diesel pulled a hand over his mustache and beard. Jim was right. Triton needed to battle his inner demons himself.
A role model would help with that. Make the process much easier.
He glanced out the window and quieted the voice in his head that wanted him to have Jim turn the truck around.
Diesel
Cedar meowed continuously, winding around his legs until Diesel reached down and plucked the rescue into his arms. The cat nudged and pushed beneath his chin and purred.
“Missed me?” he chuckled, caressing the big cat’s dark fur before placing him down. “Well, Molly will be glad to see us,” he told Cedar, knowing the cat and dog had a love/hate relationship.
Pouring food in the cat’s dish, he slowly made his way over to feed the three goldfish in the large, bubbling tank.
He watched them for a moment and lifted his cell phone to check in with his cousin.
“How’s Dave?”
“He’s doing better, bitching at the nurses already. They reset the big bone in his leg. I slept in the chair by his bed.” Mike sounded so relieved.
“That’s great, Mike. Tell him I said hi.”
“Diesel says hi,” Mike’s voice faded a bit.
“Tell him no leg jokes when I see him,” Dave yelled from the background.
Mike snorted back into the phone. “You two will be like peas in a pod.”
“Funny guys,” Diesel grunted. “Tell him to get better. And tell his mom I’ll be over in a little while.”
“Will do.”
Diesel rang off and filled a water can at the sink before he started from one end of the house to the other end watering his plants. Every room in his house was filled with various green things.
It took him thirty minutes since he was so slow, but he spoke to each of them until he was done. This wasn’t the house he’d grown up in, but it was the home of his choosing, and he took a moment to gaze around at the decor with a smile.
Every plant displayed a healthy green. Thankfully, Patty Van Patton didn’t mind watering his plants when he was deployed. After all, she told him, he bought the plants from her greenhouse, it was the least she could do. He paid her regardless.
There had been a time when he’d had a partner to help him do all this. Someone eager to help.
Which brought back how eagerly Triton had helped him at the ranch. He smiled imagining Triton flitting around his plants and animals, and then narrowed his eyes. What the hell was he doing? He shook off the vision.
Been there, done that before, and never fucking again. Shawn had been just a year older than Triton was now. And Shawn had almost destroyed him.
Reaching the front door, he eased on his sneakers. While the weather for early February typically brought rain, the news had predicted clear nights for the next day or two.
Stepping outside, he took in a deep breath of the cool, crisp night air and let himself out the front gate. Gazing upward, the stars were so bright in the sky, it was easy to see the constellations.
At the end of the wet road, he reached Mike and Dave’s front gate, entered, and rapped softly at the door.
“Diesel!” David’s mom, Tracey, answered the door with a big smile.
“Evening, Mrs. Lake.”
He braced himself. Molly’s nails clicked on the floor and after a moment, the big Labrador Retriever barreled right for him with an abundance of energy. All he could do was stoop over and let her lick him while he took ahold of her collar with a smile and ran his free hand over her head, ears, and neck.
“Thank you. I appreciate you watching her.”
“No problem, she’s a sweet, well-behaved girl.”
He smiled and turned with a slow limp.
Molly froze and so did Diesel. She sniffed around him, then sniffed his knee where the injury lay beneath a heavy bandage. As if on silent order, she switched to his other side and pressed against his good leg. He took her collar again, attached her leash, and she slowly led him back home.
Diesel had adopted the Labrador after a phone call from Colonel Liam Cobalt’s twin brother, Logan. Logan Cobalt ran a dog sanctuary as well as a dog training facility. Logan had told him that Molly was a trained balance dog whose previous owner had died. After his death, the man’s kids had neglected Molly so badly that she’d been starved. A concerned neighbor had called the local rescue foundation. They found her chained to a fence post in the backyard. Skin and bones, she didn’t even get up to greet the rescuer. The chain had cut into the skin and fur around her neck. Diesel volunteered to foster her immediately and had driven out to Logan’s place in Colorado to pick Molly up.
That had been two years ago. Diesel became her forever home. Molly was family.
“Come on, good girl,” he crooned, stroking her head.
Making his way slowly up the front steps, Diesel opened the door, unhooked her leash, and Molly dashed inside. Cedar jumped from the couch and raced toward the kitchen. Molly took off after the cat. Diesel locked the door with a chuckle.
Easing into his oversized easy chair, he flipped on the television, but kept the sound low. For some reason, being alone got on his nerves tonight. He pulled out his cell and dialed Maddox.
“You heard?”
“Yeah, sorry about your cousin’s husband,” Maddox said.
“Thanks.”
“I spoke with Triton earlier.”
He shifted a bit, rubbing his thigh. “How’s he doing?”
“He won’t say, but I know he’s scared.”
He sat up straighter. “He’s not going back is he?”
“He better not, or I’ll fly home and kick his ass.”
Diesel couldn’t even chuckle as they ended the call.
He stared out the window at nothing. He’d give it a few months and then call and check in on Triton; it was the least he could do.
At least this time, he got to say goodbye.
Triton
Two months later
“Fraser, I need your help.”
“Where are you?”
He gazed sluggishly around, trying not to move too much. Oh yeah, that was right, he hadn’t gone far from the apartment.
“I’m behind the liquor store across the street from the apartment building.”
“Can you start walking on Fifth Street and I’ll pick you up?”
“I can’t walk.”
“Fuck! Hang on, Triton. I’ll be right there.”