Salvaged - Jay Crownover

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can take him to work with me and hold on to him until I figure something out. One of the boys at the shop will step up if Dixie doesn’t want another dog.”

      I heard him sigh and looked up to see him watching me intently. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then snapped it shut, his teeth audibly clicking together. I didn’t know much about Wheeler, but what I did know I liked. He was nice. He was polite. He was thoughtful and he was kind. But more than any of those things, he went out of his way to hold himself in a way that wasn’t threatening or intimidating because he was aware without me saying a word how jumpy I was around people, men in particular. I hated that they were bigger than me. I hated that I knew firsthand how badly they could hurt me if they had a mind to. I hated that I wilted and cowered under their attention, even if it was innocent and friendly. The fact that he took care not to spook me spoke volumes and made me feel awful for putting him in such an awkward position.

      “Poppy …” He sounded regretful and I had no interest in dragging the torture out any longer for either of us. I scooped up the dog and buried my nose in the top of his head.

      “Seriously it’s no big deal. I love him and I’m happy to hold onto him until I can find him a proper home. It was stupid of me not to consider how busy you are with everything you have going on in your life right now. A puppy is a big commitment and that’s not something you can put on someone else without discussing it with them first.” The dog swiped his tongue across my face, no doubt feeling my distress and rising panic. I wanted to tuck his warm little body to my chest and run away like I was trying to score a touchdown in the other team’s end zone. “I should have known better.” That was a common refrain, one that chased me in my nightmares and blasted through my head every single second I struggled to survive the torturous hands of my abusive husband. I found myself repeating dangerous, harmful patterns where the men in my life were concerned, and through it all I told myself over and over again that I should have known better. My therapist would tell me I was being too hard on myself, that I was shouldering the blame for the actions of men that I had no control over. But blame was hard to let go when it was what you lived and breathed.

      Wheeler made a noise that sounded like he was choking and then bent over at the waist so that his hands were resting on his knees as his breath wheezed in and out. His wide shoulders shuddered and then tensed like he had taken a blow that knocked the wind out of him.

      I didn’t touch anyone, not even the people that had grown up hugging me and loving me. But I was compelled to reach out a shaky hand and put it on his colorful shoulder. The puppy gave a yip of approval and I tried not to fall to my knees as the warmth from his tattooed skin blazed through my fingers and shot up my arm. It had been a long time since I’d let myself have any kind of human contact, and even longer since that kind of contact didn’t leave bruises and welts on my skin and tattered lesions across every surface of my soul. He felt so vital. So necessary.

      “Are you okay?” The shoulder I was lightly touching tensed even tighter and I let go as if his skin burned me when he righted himself and I ended up frozen in that frigid stare of his.

      “No. I’m about as far from okay as I have ever been.” He let out a brittle-sounding laugh and narrowed his eyes at me. “When a pretty girl shows up trying to make the shit show that has become your life better, it should be okay, but it’s not.”

      He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face like he was tired. “I can count on one hand the times in my life someone bothered to ask if I was okay, Poppy.” His mouth twisted into a wry grin that would look harsh on anyone else but with those dimples of his still managed to look downright adorable. “Most of those times have been Dixie asking. It wasn’t even the right sister.”

      I was horrified and didn’t bother to hide it as I huddled the wiggling puppy to my chest like his warm little body could protect me from the images his awful words brought to mind. “That’s terrible, Wheeler.” My voice shook and the words sounded squeaky. I already knew too much about him and this was more information that I didn’t feel like I had earned the right to have.

      “It is pretty terrible but not nearly as bad as my ex telling me that she’s knocked up with my kid.” I gasped and took a step backward as his words landed like blows. “A kid we definitely didn’t plan on. A kid I am in no way ready to raise with a woman I can’t stand to be around. A kid that is going to have to bounce between houses and be shuffled from one place to another always trying to figure out exactly where home is.”

      He sounded shattered and he looked the same. Those eyes of his were colder than anything I’d ever seen, his skin was pale and taut over the sharp angles of his face, making the smattering of freckles that dotted his nose and cheeks stand out even more than they normally did.

      A baby.

      Those words always hit something delicate and unprotected deep inside of me. When my sister first told me that she was expecting a baby, I wanted to be happy for her but that happiness had to fight its way through remorse and sorrow so thick it felt like it was crushing me. The same thing was happening right now as Wheeler watched me. Everything inside of me wanted to unravel but I was holding it together, barely. He should be happy that he had a precious little life on the way, even if he was less than thrilled with the circumstances surrounding the arrival.

      I took another step backward and almost fell over. Wheeler reached out a hand like he was going to catch me or stop my fall, but I flinched away and tightened my hold on the dog so much so that he yelped in protest. Frantically I pulled my sunglasses from the top of my head and shoved them back over my eyes. I could feel moisture building, and if I started crying I needed something to hide behind. He wouldn’t understand why his words stripped me bare and I didn’t have it in me to explain the reasons why they cut so deeply. I’d used up all my limited courage and nerve getting myself out of the car and offering up the puppy.

      “Well, congratulations on the baby.” I didn’t sound like I meant it even though I honestly did. “I’m gonna take this little guy and head home and make some calls about who might be in the market for a puppy.”

      I scrambled back some more and watched wide-eyed behind my sunglasses as Wheeler advanced on me. He followed me until my back was flat against the side of the car and he was looming in front of me with only the puppy to separate his chest from mine. It was the closest I had been to a man in a very long time. Even with him being irritated and riled up, I couldn’t say that I was worried about him taking out his feelings on me. He didn’t scare me. The way he made me feel did.

      “I’m sorry, Poppy. If I was in a different place in my life I would be pretty fucking excited that a girl like you had me on her mind and went out of her way to do something really sweet for me. If I wasn’t already struggling to get my head around being a new father, I would happily take on the task of being a puppy parent.” God, he was nice. Even when he was looming over me looking not very nice at all. “There’s something about you, something about those eyes and the soft way that you speak, that makes me want to tell you all my secrets. Secrets that sting. I want to tell you that the last time my life was this fucked up was when my junkie mother was dropping me off at a fire station in some rinky-dink mountain town in the middle of a snowstorm. Our car broke down, because it always did. She didn’t take care of it and she sure as shit didn’t take care of me.” I felt my mouth drop open in shock but couldn’t move as his voice dipped lower and his eyes got even colder. His words sent shivers up and down my spine.

      “I was lucky that it was a manned station and not one of the volunteer houses that sits empty until a fire is called in. There was a very nice fire captain there that took me in for the night. The next day I was dumped with child services and I spent my entire childhood jumping from one foster house to another. She didn’t even have a coat for me. She dropped me off in jeans that were too small, a T-shirt that was stained and torn, and in tennis shoes that were shit for the snow because they were mostly duct-taped together.” He blinked at me as I gasped in horror and that harsh scowl that cut into the pretty lines of his aristocratic bone structure was back. “I was fucking four years old.”

      I wanted to hug him. I wanted to comfort the little boy he was and the man that was clearly struggling in front of me. Knowing that

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