r.e.m

diamonds.

Date: October 7th
Time: 7:11 AM
Location: Nebraska, USA

"Diamonds all up on my eyelids
I don't need no type of guidance
If loving you is what the crime is
I choose violence, I choose violence."

The morning air bit into my skin, crisp and cold. The kind that wakes you up instantly. Early October in the middle of nowhere in Nebraska had that quiet serenity I wasn't used to, almost too quiet, like the world was holding its breath. I stood in the clearing outside the cabin, the horizon just starting to light up with the soft orange glow of dawn.

"Gage," I called out, my voice low but firm. His ears perked up immediately, his dark eyes locking onto me. I needed Gage to be more on alert and to learn how to use his protective and guard instincts. Not for me, but for Jazelle when I couldn't be around to protect her.

I crouched down slightly, feeling the pull in my shoulder where the stab wound was still healing. It wasn't the worst pain I'd ever felt, but it was enough to remind me to keep my movements measured. The last thing I needed was to make this shit worse. I couldn't afford that, not with everything we had going on.

For the past two weeks I've been training Gage every morning, it had practically become our routine, at this point. Jazelle wasn't a morning person and since I was, I usually took him out for his morning bathroom breaks which also turned into our training sessions.

"Protect!" I commanded, my voice steady and firm as I tossed the padded sleeve across the yard. Gage bolted after it, his muscles flexing with every stride, a blur of black and white against the open space. When he reached it, he didn't hesitate and he pounced. His jaws locking onto the fabric like it was his worst enemy, growling low in his throat as he shook it violently.

"Hold!" I barked, and Gage froze, his body rigid, teeth still gripping the sleeve. His sharp eyes flicked to me, waiting for the next command.

"Good boy," I praised, my tone warmer now, softer, as I walked over to him. He dropped the sleeve instantly at my feet, his tail wagging like he knew he'd done me proud. I knelt, careful not to strain my shoulder, and ran my hand over his head, feeling the heat of his body radiate through his fur.

"You a beast, boy," I muttered, a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. "Ain't nobody messin' with you, you hear me?"

Gage barked in response, his tail wagging harder, his chest puffed out like he knew exactly what I meant. I chuckled low, the sound unexpected even to myself. He wasn't just a dog. He was family. My son, in a way.

"Fetch!" I called, tossing the sleeve again. Gage bolted after it, his focus razor-sharp, his movements swift and powerful.

I stood, watching him as he tore back toward me, the sleeve hanging from his jaws like a trophy. The pride in his stride was unmistakable, and I felt it too, the pride in him.