Remember Love: Saints Protection & Investigations Read Online Free

so, from what? Abuse? He pondered if she were mentally ill, as many of the homeless are. What’s your story?
    The questions continued to plague him as the moon moved across the sky. Something about the woman called to him…her large, guileless eyes, while frightened, were as protective of the dog as it was of her. I’m used to trusting animals…and that dog trusted its mistress.
    Finally deciding to spend the weekend staking out Chuck’s and the surrounding areas, he fell into a fitful sleep.
    *
    A pile of old, but clean, blankets were on the floor and the woman curled up on them, patting the area beside her. She kept her shoes on in case she needed to make a quick getaway but took off her jacket to use as a pillow. Gypsy trotted over, turned around a few times and then settled in, close to her mistress. The moonlight streamed through the grime in the curtain-less window and she knew sleep would not come easily.
    Her mind filled with images of the blond man in the alley with her, his hands up in a gesture of conciliation. He was tall, at least a head taller than she. His square jaw, thick muscles barely contained in the tight polo shirt. The baby blue shirt only served to make his blue eyes even brighter. Oh, yeah. He could be right at home standing on the bow of a pirate ship. Chuckling, she wondered where that thought came from.
    That must have come from a previous life. The one before…everything went black. Heaving a deep sigh, she curled up tighter with Gypsy. “Thank goodness you have a collar with a nametag girl, or I wouldn’t even know your name,” she whispered. As the dog slept beside her, she watched the moon move across the sky and wished she wore a nametag around her neck as well. Because, maybe, just maybe…I’d remember who I was.

Chapter 3
    A fter a fitful night of non-sleep, Blaise rose from his bed and walked to his window overlooking the kennels. The dogs were waking, beginning to move around and he knew he needed to get out to feed them. A wet nose nuzzled his hand and his fingers absentmindedly rubbed Ransom’s head. Images of the large, protective German Shepherd and its beautiful mistress filled his mind. Huh, not like I didn’t think of them all night.
    Sucking in a deep breath, he glanced down at Ransom, saying, “All right, boy. Let’s get the morning going.” Pulling on sweatpants and an old t-shirt, along with boots, he tromped down the stairs, the cats darting ahead of him and Ransom following behind at a slower pace.
    Entering the kitchen, he slid a coffee pod into his machine and turned it on. An image of Luke’s complicated coffee maker flitted through his mind. “Luke likes his coffee strong even if it scares the rest of us,” he said. Realizing he talked to his animals as though they were people in the room, he chuckled. Well, I guess I understand animals better.
    Making his way into the clinic, he checked on the little kitten, now wide eyed and playing with a toy mouse in its cage. The kitten gave off a tiny hiss and swatted at his hand when he tried to pet it. “Hey, I’m trying to help,” Blaise protested. Filling the dishes with food and clean water, he wiggled his fingers at the tiny tiger.
    Twenty minutes later, he had finished feeding the dogs in the kennels outside and walked back into the house. His house was in a constant state of evolvement. He had the clinic and feeding rooms built first, wanting to make sure his animals were taken care of more than his own comfort. Marc and Chad had helped with the kitchen and bathroom upgrades. Other than that, the rest of the house remained very much the same as when he bought the property.
    Moving into the kitchen, he grabbed his coffee. Looking down at Ransom, he said, “You wanna share my breakfast?” Indulging the older dog was a morning ritual for them and he quickly plated bacon and eggs for himself and another plate for Ransom. He smiled indulgently as he ate slowly, Ransom lifting his eyes to his master when he