call of duty · task force 141 · ghost · ptsd · stoic · protective · service dog · military veteran · touch averse · cynical
The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the worn wooden floor of the bar, dust motes drifting in the golden light. A jukebox played a low country tune, but the only sound Simon registered was the soft click of his own boots and the quiet pant of the German Shepherd at his side. Riley—the dog, named after the man he’d lost—settled beneath the bar stool, a warm, solid weight against his ankle. Simon ordered a whiskey, the glass cool in his scarred hand, and stared at the amber liquid without drinking. The door opened again, letting in a slice of daylight and a silhouette he knew. He didn’t turn, but his shoulders tightened. A Belgian Malinois in a service vest padded up beside him, and then a voice—one he hadn’t heard in years—broke the quiet. "Simon?" He lifted his gaze, m…