Battle Scars Page 3

  She had been a different person before Nadia died, someone she hardly recognized after all this time. She remembered what it was like back then, most likely idealized it, but she couldn’t come close to recapturing who she had been—how happy she usually was, how certain of exactly how her life would turn out. Back then she still thought she and Nadia would grow old together, raise a couple of kids, and do their best to spread around even a little of their joy.

  One of the hardest things Carly had ever learned, and she had only recently begun to come to peace with it, was that life never turns out exactly how you plan it. Even if you’re happy. Maybe especially if you’re happy.

  This was uncharted territory, the task of trying to figure out what her life was supposed to look like without Nadia. So far she had come up with this quiet existence of solitary dinners, evenings spent buried in a good book, and nights curled up next to the only thing that kept her from feeling totally alone. Her dog.

  “No offense, Jack,” Carly said as she opened her eyes, giving him a wistful smile. “But I miss two-way conversations in bed.” Among other things. Shaking her head, Carly took a bite of her pasta and allowed herself to dwell on the most unsettling experience of her long day.

  Ray McKenna.

  Of course Carly had noticed other women since Nadia. She’d even had sex. Twice. The first time was about a year ago, when Leeann convinced her to go to a lesbian bar in the city. Her best friend and ex had been positively tickled when Carly went home with a delicious butch whose name, she was ashamed to admit, was lost to her memories of that emotionally intense night. Pushing through her guilt at touching anyone except Nadia, Carly was surprised to find that the sex was good. And that it was something she had been wanting and needing for a long time.

  But Carly had never been the no-strings-attached type. When she and Nadia met in college, they dated for two months before sleeping together the first time. And until that butch in the bar last year, Carly hadn’t been with anyone else. Now she had slept with two women after Nadia, and her desire for release was back again. Though she had never been into casual sex, casual was all she could bear. Even if the brief feeling of connection she so craved was illusory, it would sustain her until she could imagine sharing something more than her body again.

  What bothered her about Ray McKenna was that the feelings she had stirred up didn’t seem casual at all. Granted, Carly would love to take her to bed. Ray was gorgeous, just her type. But more than just detached lust sparked Carly’s interest. She recognized Ray’s silence, a long-buried hurt. And though it wasn’t the healthiest basis for attraction, Carly was inextricably drawn to it. More than wanting sex, she yearned to get to know Ray.

  “She’s straight,” Carly said aloud. She took another sip of wine, tasting the words on her lips. “She’s straight and she’s clearly broken. What the hell is wrong with me?”

  And I’m not ready to care that much about getting to know a woman yet, Carly told herself, though she certainly felt ready when she allowed herself to fantasize about being happy again. Before the guilt and fear crept in.

  Ready or not, Carly knew why Ray McKenna had shaken her up so much. These feelings, no matter how impossible and ill advised, were exciting. That she was even having them was some kind of miracle. Until she saw Ray, Carly wasn’t sure she would ever feel that kind of interest in a woman again.

  Now that she knew it was possible, she wasn’t sure what to do next.

  Chapter Four

  “So have you and Jagger made it to the beach yet?”

  Ray fidgeted in her stiff-backed office chair, unable to look directly at the image of Dr. Evans on her monitor. Even half a country away, she still didn’t like giving her therapist answers that were sure to disappoint. “Not all the way, no.”

  “Part of the way, then?”

  Did a hundred yards count? The beach was a half mile from Ray’s house, but it might as well have been on the other side of the world. Every time she thought about going, the enormity of the task overwhelmed her. And she was starting to regret ever telling Dr. Evans about her desire to take Jagger to the ocean. “We’ve gone a little way.”

  “But not very far,” Dr. Evans said. Her tone told Ray that she knew exactly how little progress she had made on this particular item. Though her voice was gentle, it unleashed a flood of guilt that made Ray shift in discomfort.

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Evans,” Ray murmured. Tears threatened to spill and she blinked them back angrily. “I really do want to go.”

  “There’s no reason to be sorry. This is difficult for you. Let’s talk about why this walk challenges you so much, okay? Then we’ll figure out how you can gain the confidence to make it all the way next time.”

  Nodding, Ray dabbed at her eyes. “Okay.”

  “Do you need a minute to breathe? I want you present here. Let’s try very hard not to slip into a negative place while we talk about this, all right?”

  Ray nodded again, then closed her eyes and took a deep breath from her abdomen. As she exhaled slowly, the tension began to melt away. Dr. Evans had taught her somatic breathing exercises during their first sessions together, and though she used to feel self-conscious doing them, they had become an effective way to center herself. She concentrated on the sensation of the office chair cradling her body, on the sound of Jagger’s deep snoring as he dozed at her feet. After a minute or so, Ray opened her eyes and gazed into the webcam.

  “Welcome back,” Dr. Evans said, smiling gently. “Take a moment to feel what you feel.”

  Ray took stock. The tension in her shoulders had eased, and she was more grounded. No longer on the verge of tears, thankfully. She was ready to talk this through. “I tried to walk to the beach yesterday, but we barely got off my property before I had to turn around.”

  “What happened?”

  Ray shrugged, then paused. Though she was more practiced at talking about her fears now, it was never easy to put her thoughts and feelings into words. “I slipped into a state of hypervigilance and just couldn’t get out of it. It’s hard to make myself leave the house when I’m convinced something terrible will happen.”

  “Did you use your mantra?”

  Early on in therapy, Dr. Evans had taught her to repeat a phrase or a poem when her symptoms appeared. Something with a strong rhythm to help take her focus off the anxiety while reminding her that she was safe in the present. Ray had chosen two lines from the poem “Invictus” by William Ernest Henley, which she first read shortly after being diagnosed with PTSD. “I am the master of my fate: / I am the captain of my soul.” Usually it worked. This time nothing had seemed to calm her down. “I did, but it was just…too much.”

  “Did you try to stop and breathe?”

  “For a second,” Ray said, although that wasn’t quite true. She’d let the panic take hold and carry her back in the direction of her house before she’d even had time to try and break its spell. “I didn’t do a very good job, though.”

  “It’s tough. You’ve experienced a great deal of trauma, threats to your personal safety that most people couldn’t even imagine. I know it’s difficult to make yourself stay in the present in that kind of situation, but that’s exactly what will get you through it. And it will just take practice.”

  “I know.” Running her hands through her short hair, Ray grumbled, “But I’m tired of practicing.”

  “You took Jagger to the vet last month,” Dr. Evans said. “That was a big deal. Good for you.”

  “Yeah.” The vet had been a real challenge, that was for sure. Ray straightened slightly, trying to focus on her one real victory. The waiting room had been hell, but Dr. Warner had actually made her feel comfortable. “The vet wasn’t too bad.”

  “And you finally made it to the grocery store.”

  “I know. It was terrifying.” Even behind her sunglasses, Ray had felt as though everyone in the store was looking at her and her dog, wondering why she needed him. Probably trying to remember everything they had read,
all the gory details. Calling up their memories of her hostage videos, imagining what kinds of atrocities she’d experienced that they didn’t know about.

  “But you did it anyway.”

  “I had to,” Ray admitted. “I needed the food.”

  “You did it,” Dr. Evans repeated. “That’s something to celebrate.”

  “I guess so. I was a nervous wreck the whole time. You wouldn’t believe how many people stopped to ask me about Jagger. I knew he was gorgeous when I got him, but I didn’t anticipate the attention he would draw.”

  “Well, he’s a pretty magnificent dog. I’m not surprised people would be curious about him.”

  Ray couldn’t disagree. “I sewed patches on his service vest that say Stop. Don’t Touch. Service Dog, but to be honest, I’m not sure how well they work. People ask if they can pet him all the time.”

  “Think about it this way. When people are looking at Jagger, they’re probably not paying much attention to you.”

  “I guess so.” That was a good point and almost made Ray feel better. “But it means I have to interact with people. You know I hate that.”

  “It’s good for you, though. It really is. And would you trade Jagger, if it meant you didn’t have to deal with his admirers?”

  “Of course not.”

  Dr. Evans smiled. “So revel in it.”

  “I don’t know about reveling, but I’ll try.”

  “That’s where practice comes in. As often as possible. So, back to the beach. When you set out, where does your mind go?”

  Ray forced herself to remember how she felt yesterday, careful not to let herself slip back into the panic. She evaluated her feelings as objectively as she could, taking deep breaths as she explored them. “I feel…exposed.” Dr. Evans nodded but kept silent, allowing her to expand on her initial observation. “Vulnerable. I feel danger. Like anyone could come at me from any direction, so I need to constantly be on guard. It’s exhausting.”

  “Isn’t Jagger trained to put himself between you and anyone who approaches?”

  “Yes. And he does a good job. He’s also trained to watch behind me and alert me to anyone who might be there.”

  “So maybe you don’t need to be so on guard,” Dr. Evans said. “When you try this walk next time, I want you to focus on Jagger and his reactions. He’s a pretty calm dog, right?”

  “Yeah.” Ray petted his head, eliciting a grumble that tugged her lips into a smile. Jagger’s job was to be calm and watchful, and she needed to remember to rely on his training. “He’s downright mellow.”

  “If Jagger is calm, there must not be any danger. Correct?”

  Ray nodded thoughtfully. The service-dog institute had told her the same thing during her orientation training with Jagger. “I need to focus on Jagger and remind myself that if he thinks everything is cool, everything is cool.”

  “That’s right.” Dr. Evans gazed at her warmly. “You might also want to remember that nobody’s likely to harass you with a giant Great Dane at your side.”

  That’s why she had wanted him, wasn’t it? Ray took another deep breath, steadying her resolve. A half mile wasn’t too bad. And they didn’t have to stay at the beach long.

  “Okay,” she said after a moment of silent preparation. “We’ll try again this afternoon.”

  *

  Carly came out of exam room one riding the high of seeing Apollo, a Siamese kitten with enormous ears, finally go home. He had been found by the side of the road, apparently hit by a car, and he was doing great after a successful emergency surgery she and Dr. Patterson had performed together. The woman who adopted him was clearly thrilled to be able to take him to his forever home after his checkup today, and Carly felt over the moon about it. These were the cases that made being a vet worth all the heartache it could sometimes bring.

  After walking to the computer and typing a note into Apollo’s file, she clicked the Save button with a contented sigh. Carly checked her watch, pleased to see that she had five minutes until her next patient. That was more than enough time to take Jack outside to go potty.

  “Okay, guys,” she said to Matt and Susan, who were both drawing blood from a growling, squirming cat. “I’m taking a quick break. I’ll be back for my next appointment.”

  “Sure,” Susan said without looking up. “Have fun.”

  “Smart girl,” Carly said, grinning. “Never take your eyes off an angry cat.”

  “I learned that the hard way, believe me.”

  Before Carly could reach her office, Joyce made a dramatic entrance into the back room. Carly braced herself for whatever gossip was about to be trumpeted, but instead of the look of conspiratorial glee she normally wore, Joyce’s expression was grave. “Dr. Warner, I need your help up front.”

  Carly instantly changed direction. Sorry, Jack. “Emergency?”

  “It’s Ray McKenna,” Joyce said, though her voice lacked the sick pleasure it had the first time she’d broken that news. “Something happened to her dog at the beach, but I’m having trouble getting the details. She’s freaking out.”

  “Freaking out?”

  “I told her we don’t have an exam room open right now, but she won’t let me bring him back here. Causing a bit of a scene, actually.”

  Carly picked up her pace and jogged to the waiting area. He was a service dog, so it made sense that Ray wouldn’t want to be separated from him. She would have to remember to talk to Joyce about being tactful with clients who came in with service animals. Carly doubted that Ray spent much time away from Jagger, if any.

  When Carly entered the front lobby, she immediately saw what Joyce was talking about. Ray McKenna was definitely freaking out. Though her eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses, she wasn’t doing a very good job of being as inconspicuous as Carly suspected she would have liked. Breathing hard, Ray held Jagger’s leash in a death grip, her hands shaking. Her face, drawn and pale, was the picture of dread. Two other clients sat staring intently at magazines, trying not to look interested in the drama playing out in front of them.

  “Hi, Ray. Hi, Jagger,” Carly said calmly, hoping that she could bring Ray down from her clearly agitated state with the appropriate tone. “What’s going on?”

  Ray jerked her head slightly to look at Carly, and Carly offered her a calm smile. Inside, her heart quickened at the state Ray was in. Jagger didn’t appear to be in any obvious distress. What was wrong with her?

  Sensing that no explanation was coming, Carly murmured, “Ray?” She touched Ray’s shoulder, guessing that the contact might help bring her into focus. “Tell me what happened.”

  With a start and a gasp, Ray grabbed her hand and squeezed it tight. Carly watched in silence as Ray removed her hand from her shoulder, then let her go. “I’m sorry,” Ray said in a tremulous voice. Carly wasn’t sure if she was apologizing for her panic or the extreme reaction to being touched. “I think something bit Jagger. Or stung him. I don’t know, I don’t know what it was.”

  “Okay,” Carly said. Shaking off her surprise at Ray’s jumpiness, she hunkered down to Jagger’s level, trying to determine Ray’s cause for concern. “When did this happen?” Jagger stepped closer to sniff at her hand, and it became clear why Ray was so upset. The left side of his muzzle was badly swollen. He didn’t appear to be having any trouble breathing, but his features were distorted.

  When she realized Ray hadn’t yet answered her question, Carly looked up and found her in the middle of what appeared to be some kind of anxiety attack. Glancing around at the other occupants of the waiting room, she saw three pairs of eyes boring into Ray, no doubt making things worse. Carly rose.

  “Come on,” she said, and reached out to take Ray’s elbow. She stopped before she made contact, not wanting to give Ray any reason to lash out. “Why don’t we go to my office and I’ll take a look at him? You can stay with him while I do.”

  Ray nodded, and Carly began to lead her out of the lobby. “Please tell Mrs. Esguerra that I’ll be with her short
ly,” she murmured to Joyce. “I want to examine Jagger for just a minute.”

  To her credit, Joyce simply nodded. Carly wasn’t used to seeing her so subdued. She might have to thank Ray for achieving the seemingly impossible.

  Carly led Ray to the back hallway that connected to her office. As soon as they were out of earshot, Carly said, “We’ll have more privacy back here, as long as you don’t mind meeting my dog Jack.”

  “I’d love to meet Jack,” Ray said quietly.

  Carly opened her office door to find Jack wagging his back end so fiercely his entire body moved side to side. “Jack is great with other dogs, by the way. He’s just…enthusiastic.”

  They made their way into the office, Ray leading Jagger past a barrage of butt sniffing and tail wagging. Carly closed the door behind them, letting Jagger sniff Jack and complete their proper introductions before she held out her hand. “May I have his leash?”

  Ray relinquished control of him with only slight hesitation. She made a subtle sweep of the room, given away only by the slightest movement of her head. Carly wished she had somehow had the foresight to clean up a bit.

  “I made a complete fool of myself out there.” Ray’s voice was full of shame and, more than that, disappointment.

  Carly shushed her gently and gestured at the leather couch opposite her desk. “Please feel free to sit down while I take a look at Jagger. Jack may try to join you, but if you’re not interested just tell him, ‘Off.’”

  Silently, Ray walked to the couch and sank down on one end. She stretched an arm across the top of it, clearly attempting a casual attitude that she absolutely wasn’t pulling off. Ray seemed to realize it wasn’t working, because she retreated, folding both arms over her chest. Finally she dropped her hands to her sides and looked away, at the University of California Davis diploma hanging on the wall. Carly felt Ray’s discomfort like a third person in the room, whose unwelcome presence made them both squirm.