Chapter 5
Finn
I eased the Land Rover around another bend in the Highland road, glancing in the rearview mirror for what must have been the hundredth time.
Ajax sat perfectly still in the back seat, his amber eyes fixed on some distant point beyond the window.
The Belgian Malinois hadn’t made a sound since we’d left the handler’s place.
Not a whine, not a bark, not even a sigh.
It was like riding with a ghost. One I wasn’t sure I deserved to bring home.
“Almost home, mate.” The conversation had been one-sided the whole drive, but I couldn’t seem to accept straight silence. “You’ll like it at Out of Bounds. Plenty of space to run. Good people, too.”
The mountains rose around us, bathed in late afternoon light. The sight never got old, no matter how many times I drove this road.
“Callum’s a bit of a grumpy bastard, I’ll warn you now.
Lost his eye in service. But he was with you and Charlie on that last deployment in Helmand, remember?
” I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel.
“And Ewan owns the pub in the village. The place makes a decent cottage pie. His sister, Ciara, recently got married to Alex. You’ll remember Alex, too, I reckon. ”
Ajax’s ears twitched slightly at the familiar names, the first reaction I’d seen from him in hours.
“That’s right. The whole gang’s here.” Encouraged by that tiny response, I mustered a smile. “They’ll be glad to see you. We all miss Charlie something fierce.”
My voice caught on the last words. Charlie had been the best of us. Steady, dependable, with a quiet strength that had saved our arses more times than I could count. The image of his grin flashed in my memory, that day he’d introduced us all to his new canine partner.
“He loved you, you know. Always going on about how you were the smartest dog in the regiment.”
I slowed as we approached a viewpoint overlooking the valley. On impulse, I pulled over.
“One more quick stop before we get there.”
I got out and opened the back door. Ajax looked at me, unmoving.
I snapped on his lead, just in case. “Come on, boy. Let’s stretch those legs.”
After a moment’s hesitation, he stepped carefully from the vehicle, his movements precise and measured.
I didn’t reach for him or try to pet him.
Donovan had warned me to give him space.
Instead, I walked slowly to the edge of the viewpoint.
Ajax followed, ears pricked, eyes scanning the terrain for threats.
“At ease, soldier,” I murmured. That wasn’t the proper command. I’d have to go through the lengthy list the handler had given me. But I hoped Ajax would get the gist.
The valley sprawled below us, a patchwork of greens and purples fading into the blue-gray mountains beyond. The breeze carried the scent of heather and pine, clean and sharp.
I stayed quiet, standing with my hands in my pockets, trying to breathe in enough of this place to keep me standing upright. The Highlands had always known how to hold my broken pieces better than I could.
After a minute, Ajax’s rigid posture softened. His nose twitched, sampling the unfamiliar scents. When a red deer appeared at the edge of the distant treeline, his focus locked onto it with laser precision. No sign of aggression, simply the tracker in him awakening.
I knew that feeling. The way nature pulled you back into your body when your mind was spinning off into dark places. How the mountains had their own way of putting things in perspective.
I nodded toward the jagged peaks. “Charlie and I used to climb those ridges. Whenever we got leave. Said it helped clear his head after deployment.”
Ajax’s ears flicked back at the sound of Charlie’s name, then forward again.
“It helped me, too.”
The deer moved on, disappearing into the trees. Ajax watched it go, then surprised me by sitting down properly, his weight settling as if he’d decided this spot was acceptable—for now. Maybe that was all either of us needed. Somewhere to sit with our ghosts without having to explain them.
We stayed like that for ten minutes. Not friends yet, just two broken pieces of Charlie’s life, finding some common ground in the wild open space.
When the wind picked up and clouds started gathering over the peaks, I clicked my tongue. “Time to go, boy.”
This time, Ajax jumped smoothly into the back seat without hesitation. Progress.
The last twenty miles to Glenlaig wound through increasingly familiar territory. The village appeared around the final bend, nestled between mountains and loch, stone cottages with smoke curling from chimneys.
“Home.” I said it more to myself than to Ajax. It still felt like a borrowed word. Like something I’d been given without earning.
My cottage sat on the edge of the village, a sturdy stone building with a small garden out back that ran right up to the forest edge. Not much, but it was mine. A place to land after years of having nowhere permanent.
And as I pulled into the drive, I spotted a couple of familiar vehicles parked by the kerb.
I cut the engine and eased out of the Land Rover, stretching my back after the long drive. Callum leaned against his 4x4, arms crossed, while Ewan pushed himself away from the fence he’d been perched on.
“What’s this then?” I jerked a head at the pair of them. “Welcoming committee?”
Callum shrugged, his one good eye fixed on the backseat of my 4x4, where Ajax sat peering out the window. “Figured we’d come pay our respects.”
“And to welcome Ajax home,” Ewan added.
Something caught in my chest at that. These lads never ceased to surprise me. Even after all we’d bled and buried and bottled up together, they still showed up. No explanations or request needed. Which was sometimes the only thing that mattered.
“Well then, let’s not keep him waiting.” I moved to the back door and opened it slowly. “Ajax, come. Meet some old friends.”
The Malinois hesitated only briefly before jumping down with minimal expenditure of energy. His ears perked forward as he took in Callum and Ewan, nostrils flaring.
Callum crouched down and held out his hand, palm down. “Remember me, you daft mutt? Helmand Province. You found that IED before I stepped on it.”
Ajax’s tail gave a single, tentative wag.
“That’s right.” Callum’s voice was gentler than I’d heard in years. Well, at least as applied to anyone other than Parker. “Good lad.”
Ewan stepped forward next, keeping his movements slow and deliberate. “Hey there, Ajax. Charlie showed me all your tricks that time in Cyprus.”
The dog’s posture changed subtly—still alert, but something in him seemed to relax. He sniffed Ewan’s outstretched hand, then looked back at me as if seeking permission.
“It’s alright. They’re pack.” Again, probably not the right order, but we’d sort it out.
Smart lad that he was, Ajax got the idea, moving forward to press his nose against Callum’s knee. Not exactly exuberant, but recognition. Connection.
“There he is.” The ghost of a smile crossed Callum’s face. I still hadn’t gotten used to how readily he used it since Parker came into his life. “Still in there somewhere.”
I felt something unclench in my chest. Maybe this hadn’t been such a mad idea after all.
Callum moved toward his Land Rover. “We got him a few things.”
I watched as he opened the back hatch, revealing several bags and packages. My eyebrows shot up as he and Ewan began unloading what looked like half a pet shop. Ajax observed the proceedings with cautious interest.
“Christ, did you leave anything for other dogs in Scotland?”
Callum pulled out a large, plush dog bed in forest green. “This one’s for the office. So he can be comfortable while you’re working.”
In the wake of this matter-of-fact announcement, I stared at him, momentarily speechless.
My battle-hardened friend had been turned into an utter marshmallow by the power of love.
Or, more specifically, the power of Parker Lawrence.
And maybe I envied him a little. Not the softness—but the safety it took to allow it.
Ewan hefted another small bag. “These are a couple dozen of the organic dog treats from the bakery. Isobel’s got Havoc addicted to them.”
“And this is from Alex.” Callum handed me a package wrapped in brown paper.
I opened the paper to find a new collar embroidered with Ajax’s name. My contact information was etched on a little metal plate attached to one side. Genuinely touched, I shook my head. Trust Alex to make something practical feel like a goddamn heirloom. “He’s on his bloody honeymoon.”
“Ciara helped him sort it before they left.” Ewan’s lips quirked. “We were given strict instructions.”
Callum watched Ajax with the assessing gaze he had never quite lost after leaving the service. “The girls all wanted to come, but we thought too many new people might overwhelm him.”
I nodded, swallowing the unexpected lump in my throat. My mates had shown up. Not only shown up—they’d seen what was needed.
Not for me. For Ajax. For Charlie.
And somehow, in the middle of it, I didn’t feel like I was drowning anymore.
Ajax had ventured closer to investigate a rope toy Ewan was holding. Not grabbing it yet, but interested. Progress.
“Thanks, lads.” I meant it more than they probably knew. “Really.”
Sucking in a steadying breath, I jerked my head toward the house. “You lot want to come in for a beer?”
Ewan picked up another bag. “Wouldn’t say no.”
I pushed open the front door and let Ajax step inside first. The Malinois paused on the threshold, nose working overtime as he took in his new surroundings.
“Go on, have a look around.” I unclipped his lead. “Make yourself at home.”
Ajax moved cautiously into the cottage, his nails clicking against the hardwood floors. His ears swiveled in different directions as he absorbed every sound and scent.
Callum and Ewan followed behind me, arms laden with their haul of dog supplies. I directed them to set everything in the corner of the lounge for now.
My cottage wasn’t much to look at. Only the essentials.
A worn leather sofa faced a small fireplace, flanked by a couple of mismatched armchairs.
I hadn’t bothered with a telly, as I rarely sat still long enough to watch one.
Instead, I had a bookshelf with a handful of paperbacks and a decent collection of maps.
The coffee table was actually an old wooden crate I’d found and sanded down.
What the place lacked in furniture, it made up for in gear.
My climbing equipment hung neatly on wall hooks—ropes, carabiners, harnesses.
A pair of well-worn hiking boots sat by the door next to my trail runners.
My mountain bike was propped in the corner, and fishing tackle occupied a basket near the back door.
Ajax seemed particularly interested in my backpack, which probably carried the scents of every hill and glen I’d traversed in the past month.
I headed for the kitchen and snagged three bottles of lager from the fridge. Back in the lounge, I passed them around, and we settled onto the mismatched furniture, the silence comfortable as we watched Ajax continue his methodical exploration.
“He seems to be settling in all right,” Ewan observed.
Callum nodded. “Give him time. Took Falkor a few days to get used to the office.”
Remembering back, I thought it more likely that it had taken Callum a few days to get used to the dog when Parker had shown up with him, unannounced.
I twisted the cap off my beer. “Donovan said he hasn’t been himself since Charlie…”
The words trailed off. Ajax had circled back to us and now sat at attention, watching our little gathering with those intelligent eyes.
“Well, then.” I raised my bottle. “To Charlie. The best of us. May we do right by his memory—and his dog.”
“To Charlie,” my friends echoed.
At the sound of his former handler’s name, Ajax’s ears pricked forward. His soft whine was the first voluntary sound I’d heard from him all day. He padded over to sit directly at my feet.
I reached down slowly and rested my hand on his head. He didn’t pull away.
It might not have been much, but it was a start.
And after the past few years, I’d take a start over silence every damn time.