Thinking about her, I decide to call her later on tonight. All the thoughts of Kieran often leave me wanting to clutch family close. Getting out of my car, I head into the store, hearing the chirp of my car alarm setting.
A few spaces down, I see a beautiful German Shepard watching something. He’s proud and tall, his ears perked as if intent on something I can’t see. His windows are down about halfway and I suck in a breath at the owner’s daring. It rains on a whim here, so the thought that someone would let the inside of their car get drenched surprises me.
That’s someone dedicated to their animal right there.
“Good boy,” I murmur to him. He doesn’t so much look at me. He’s still as a statue, watching the store still and something nags at me. But I head into the store. Not my business. I don’t need some hot headed asshole yelling at me for fucking with their dog.
At the doors of the market, I grab a basket.
I move from spot to spot, gathering fresh vegetables – red cabbage, leeks, water chestnuts, and other fixings for a homemade stir fry. I can’t pass up some beautiful strawberries, and grab another bunch of bananas.
I’m ready to leave in record time. As I round a corner, a pretty girl floats into my field of vision. Her medium skin is oddly pale, and there’s a sheen of sweat on her forehead. She bumps into me as if she hadn’t seen me standing there.
“Sorry,” she mumbles as I grab her and keep her on her feet.
“Watch where you’re going,” I say, and her shocked brown eyes meet mine. With my hands on her arms, I feel her trembling. Her wide brown eyes leave my face and she stares at the floor while I release her arms.
In her hands she’s got some crappy store made sandwich and I want to tell her it’ll be dry and stale. Don’t people know how bad that crap is for them? We get one god damned body, fucking respect it, people.
But she still stands close to me, which feels awkward. I notice the soft waves of her light brown hair. It’s almost blond, but not quite, and looks natural. And her scent, something slightly sweet, tickles my nose.
“I, uh, don’t usually come in here without my service dog,” she says, her voice breaking over the words. I sense she’s feeling embarrassed, but it’s none of my damn business.
“Okay.” It’s all I can think of. Why is she telling me this? Is it an excuse for walking into me? I don’t care, I just want to shop so I can go home and make myself some dinner. It’s been a long damn day.
But I see her chest rising and falling quickly. At the base of her throat her pulse is thumping a bit too quickly. And I sigh.
“Do you need help?” I ask, struggling not to sound as short tempered as I feel. I just want to get on with my life, get home. Why can’t people just handle their shit?
She shakes her head and I give her a terse, “Okay. Have a good day.”
There’s a mere nod from her as I walk away, internally annoyed. She freaking slammed into me, yet I’m the one with manners here. What the actual fuck?
I ignore the checker as they ring up my groceries. Toward the door, I see the girl leave, as if she’d been hurried through the express lane with her vomit sandwich. What a weird interaction.
Putting her out of my mind, I try to one word answer the checker who’s trying to engage me in conversation.
Yes, I found everything alright.
Yes, I’ll donate a dollar to the Humane Society. It’s the smallest donation I’ve made to them in a long time.
No, I don’t need help out. Are you fucking kidding me?
When I can finally leave, I feel the charge in the air. Out the door, I see the milling crowd. I see the little blond on her knees in the parking lot. In her arms, that beautiful German Shepard.
And it clicks.
That beautiful dog was her service animal. No wonder it was acting so oddly. I push through the crowd, heading her direction as I set my groceries on the pavement, all thoughts of dinner leaving my mind. This animal needs help.
That’s all I can see; this dog with labored breathing whining softly in pain. Dropping to my knees, I begin to check him over.
Chapter 3
Victoria
The guy who’d been so rude to me in the store, the one who triggered that panic attack, now kneels before me and begins to touch Sentinel.
“What are you doing?” I ask, feeling numb.
He glances up at me, those incredibly intense light blue eyes focused on my face. “I’m figuring out how to help him. I’m a vet.”
This guy helps animals? Really? I’d have assumed he was some suit wearing CEO or something with his attitude. He sure as hell doesn’t give a damn for anyone but himself. But as he pulls his phone out, I stare at him like an idiot.
“Yeah, Sam, I need you to prep for surgery. Young German Shepard, ETA, five minutes,” he says tersely before hanging up the phone.
But my heart is stumbling in my chest. “I can’t afford it,” I say.
He hesitates, staring into my eyes like he’s searching for the reason I would have said this. But he seems to push whatever thoughts he has out of his mind. “Help me lift him. Under his flank like this,” He says, showing me to scoop up Sentinel’s back end.
I do as he says and he lifts my dog’s front end. “He’s heavy,” I mumble as we both lift. Sentinel whines again, the pained sound breaking my heart. Tears flood my eyes as I hold him, but I can’t wipe them away. Not without dropping him.
“Toward my car,” The guy says, jerking his chin toward a nice little car in the lot a few spots down from my truck. His eyes capture mine and he seems flustered. “I’ll take good care of him,” he says, and I nod, feeling my heart shattering into billions of little pieces. What if we’re hurting him, torturing him only for him to die on the way to wherever we’re going?
Lowering my face, I stare at the thick fur on Sentinel’s haunches as I carry him. Every step feels like it’s taking ten years but I know we’re moving quick. It feels like the guy is hurrying me, his steps are short, quick, yet measured and smooth.
It can’t end like this. This is my best friend, the only creature in the world that loves me, that cares for me. He’s the only thing keeping me sane, keeping me grounded, keeping me safe from my biggest enemy; myself.
The tears are too much as they stream down my cheeks. I suddenly notice other people walking along side us. A lady asks how she can help as another guy comes and carefully locks his arms under Sentinel’s ribs.
“Here?” The stranger asks the rude guy who’s helping me.
“Yeah, careful.” The rude guy glances at the woman, his thoughts seeming far away. “Can you grab my keys, front right pocket,” he says and she hesitates only a second before reaching into his pocket while he moves.
“Unlock the car, please,” he says and she does. The car chirps as she opens the door for us. The rude guy goes first, backing right into the back seat of his car with Sentinel’s front still held gently. “Lower him carefully,” he tells me as I duck in and the other guy backs off a step.
I do as I’m told and pull my arms back.
And notice the blood. Thick, crimson liquid coats my arms and I stare at it in shock. He’s bleeding. A lot. He’s going to die. There’s no way he can live through this.
“Hey.” The rude guy suddenly breaks into my thoughts while grabbing my shoulders like he had in the store to keep me from falling. I focus on his incredible blue eyes. In their depths, I see something that I feel I can trust. “I need you to keep it together, okay?”
I nod, mute. I feel something like shock settling like a fog on my brain, but I’m studying the guy now, trying to zero in on his words. “Get in.” He guides me to the passenger side and opens the door for me.
I sit down as he hurries around the front with a long, swinging stride that belies the tense situation and the set of his shoulders.
With him in the driver’s seat, I glance over my shoulder at Sentinel. His head is down, his ears in the most defeated position I’ve ever seen them in. And I
reach back to offer him my fingers.
“I love you,” I whisper, my throat aching with tears, “Please don’t go. I need you.”
He sniffs my fingers, his ears shifting slightly. He lets out a sigh that sounds like exhaustion and I vaguely hear the guy beside me on the phone.
“Bring Jax. Thanks.” There’s quiet and I focus on Sentinel. Something in me tells me he’s fading fast and I try to memorize every second that passes. Memories of him as a playful puppy come to mind and I can’t help but smile as I think about it.
He used to trip on his ears. He’s get running so fast he’d lower his head and step right on those then floppy ears.
I reach out to touch one of those ears now. He grew into them. They’re tall and dark, velvety soft and fuzzy. They match his dark muzzle.
He was the best friend I could ever have hoped for. The best dog I’d ever had. The best friend I could have ever hoped for. He was far better than I deserved. His liquid brown eyes meet mine and I see the light fading out of them.
“Please don’t go, I whisper again. I know he’ll hold on for me as long as he can. I know because he’s never been the type to give anything less than one hundred percent. His ears twitch a little bit as if he’s focused on the sound of my voice. “I’m right here,” I say, the whisper of my voice barely any sound at all. But I can’t talk. I can’t say anything at all.
Chapter 4
Kyle
I’m not sure she knows she’s talking out loud. That she’s begging her dog not to die.
“I love you,” I hear her whisper, her voice choked with emotion. “Please don’t go. I need you.” She’s straining back, fighting against her seat belt to touch him, to be as close to him as she can while I fly over these streets. If I get pulled over, I’m going to keep driving.
Sentinel is going to die if I stop.
I pull out my phone, needing to make sure I have what I need on hand. “Bring Jax,” I tell Sam, who agrees to quickly get my dog. “Thanks,” I say, glad for the billionth time at least that I live so close to the office, that I have a key where Sam knows to find it.
Jax is strong. He’ll be perfect for a transfusion.
Next to me, the girl begins to mumble about how he used to trip on his ears as a puppy. I sense she’s not fully aware she’s speaking out loud, and I stay quiet. Her words break my heart. The German Shepard must have been a particularly adorable puppy, but it’s the love in her voice that’s wrecking me.
She’s droning on about how he’s the best friend she could have ever hoped for and I know she’s looking for closure. She wants to get it all out so he can hear how much she loves him before he slips away.
“Please don’t go,” She whispers, and I blink back tears. Bloody hell, if he dies now, I’ll never forgive myself. Not because she’s anything special, but because I know the dog is.
“I’m right here,” She assures him as we pull into the office lot.
I park quickly and jump out of the car. Headed to the back, I reach under the giant dog. Sam comes rushing out with a carry stretcher and I thank god for her again. She’s the best damn assistant I could have ever hoped for.
Sam comes to my side and I position the stretcher as Sam hurries around the car. She’s quick and we count.
“One, two three.” In unison and lift Sentinel in tandem onto it. With one side in my hands, I slide him out and the girl takes one side and I hold the other. We’re quick to rush the Shepard indoors toward the room I know Sam would have prepped for surgery.
I rush past the reception desk and down the hall. On the right, we bump into the room that’s already ready. I place the stretcher on the ground and look into the girl’s eyes.
She scoops up his haunches and leads the count. “One, two, three.”
We lift him and place him on the stainless steel table. Sam is quick to bring in Jax as I set up to anesthetize Sentinel. While she’s working on him, she’s talking to the girl.
“Were going to put Sentinel under so we can get a transfusion going,” she says, knowing her stuff. “What’s your name?” she asks, and I listen up.
“Victoria,” The blond says. She jerks her chin toward the dog on the table. “He’s Sentinel.”
“Pretty,” Sam says. “I’m Sam, this is Kyle. He’s really not so bad once you get to know him.”
I glare at her, and she shrugs before focusing back on the task at hand. I tune them out, prepping Sentinel. I’m praying to every god I’ve ever heard of that this goes well. I feel broken ribs, but I know the dog isn’t too old, the bones should mend quick. I’m hoping none pierced his lungs. If they did, this is going to get much harder.
Sam works around me, setting up the transfusion. Jax sits patiently, having done this before. I offer him praise and he stops panting long enough to give me the look. The look that reminds me I own him treats and an extra walk after we’re done here.
And he’ll get treats, but have to wait a bit for the walk. This is going to be a big transfusion. I’m playing with two lives, Jax’s and Sentinel’s. As Sentinel gives up to the anesthetic, I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s a double edged sword, though. He went down quick, that’s a bad sign.
I find the source of the bleeding, a huge gash along his left side, likely where something sharp on the bumper slashed him. I shave the edges in record time, aware of every precious second ticking by with him bleeding.
To her credit, Victoria is watching, silent. Her presence is unobtrusive, which is abnormal for people watching their dog die.
I stitch him up with Sam hurrying to snip the threads and dab up blood. Twenty two stitches later, we’re done and there’s far less blood flowing from the wound. I probe the ribs, wondering if we should X-ray. I know two are broken, I feel them. But they can be manipulated back into place. His breathing isn’t labored, which leads me to believe his lungs weren’t punctured.
“We need to get Jax off the transfusion,” Sam says, her focus on cleaning up Sentinel.
“A little longer,” I say, hoping that I’m not asking too much of Jax.
“You’re going to kill him,” Sam says, her tone urgent and terrified.
“Trust me,” I tell her. I know we’re cutting it close. But Sentinel needs all the blood he can get.
“Don’t trade one life for another,” Sam says, her tone admonishing. I look into her eyes, wondering when she’d gotten so old. Sure, I knew she was in her forties, but she’s never looked her age. Until now.
“Just a little bit longer,” I say, looking over at my dog. Jax is resting, head between his front paws. His big blue eyes are on me and I know he’d follow me to the ends of the earth. He’d die if I let him.
Even now, as he gets weaker and weaker, his lifeblood saving the life of another, he trusts me.
Chapter 5
Victoria
I watch the two argue about how Kyle is killing Jax, a beautiful husky with the most beautiful silver blue eyes I’ve ever seen. But while the two stare each other down, I feel myself needing to step in.
Before I can say anything, Kyle steps up. “Okay. Let’s get Jax some food.” They work together with Sam ending the transfusion and I Kyle offering some canned food to the pretty husky. He talks quietly to the dog and I realize it’s his dog.
The rude guy was risking his own dog’s life to save mine.
I walk over, needing to thank Jax, who has his head down as if he’s too tired to lift it. “Good boy,” I say as he licks up some wet food. Beside me, I feel Kyle tense up. “Thank you,” I whisper to Jax, while reaching out to pet him.
He offers my arm a weak lick and I smile.
“Sam,” Kyle says, and I listen to him without saying anything. Something tells me that the only reason I’m even allowed back here right now is because I’m staying out of the way and quiet. “Please X-ray Sentinel.”
She’s quick to do so and I sense that he’s got something to say to me. When we’re alone in the room – save for Jax, who’s paying us no mind while there’s food
in front of him – he turns to me.
“He’s in rough shape. If he lasts through the night then we’re pretty well out of the woods.” His voice is the kindest I’ve heard it, and I know the dire news is affecting him too.
I want to thank him, to tell him no one has ever been so kind to me, but my voice won’t work.
Kyle studies me. “I’d like to take him home for the night.”
Frozen by the words, I realize I hadn’t let myself think ahead at all. I have no plans. Nowhere to stay the night. Not really even enough money to get something. And even if I did, my truck is back at the grocery store.
“I’m not from around here,” I say, not willing to give away too much information. He doesn’t need to know the sordid details of my past or why I’m just passing through.
He lets out a sigh that’s so frustrated I’m instantly up in arms. “Do you have somewhere you can stay the night?” he asks, clearly annoyed but doing his best to keep it in check.
My cheeks burn in shame as I try to figure out how to tell him I’m broke, that this wasn’t part of my tightly managed plan. I’ve got enough money to make it to the place I’d decided to run to. I’d chosen the farthest I could run and still somewhere I could get a job and maybe disappear.
Everything I have has to go to that. Miserable, I shake my head. My life hasn’t been easy. I don’t have an amazing, well-paying job. He doesn’t understand what it means to scrimp and save, all the while under the thumb of someone who refuses to let you have any freedoms. My freedom is the only thing I’ve got; I don’t want to give it up for anyone.
Except maybe Sentinel.
He studies his dog, who’s alternately licking food and his owner’s knuckles. There’s a tension in the air that bothers me. Is he really mad at me that I’m not able to just drop money wherever like he can? Hell, if I was the only vet in a town full of people, I bet I’d have deep pockets too. Not everybody just gets life handed to them.
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