Chapter 34
Chapter thirty-four
Noah
Rhys demands I put my pocket puppies in the runt incubator and follow him outside. Part of me is worried he's about to confess the reason my parents never came back.
Then I'll have to confess the reason I wanted to share his bed so badly that night. It wasn't so I could stop him creeping out to kill my parents; it was so I would know he was doing it. Instead, I slept like a log, and now my parents are gone.
We enter the barn and I can't believe it. It looks like a puppy farm. Same size kennels. Same heat lamps.
“I know what you are thinking,” Rhys announces.
“That you snuck out and killed my parents?”
His face drops. “Did you… Is that what you're thinking?”
“No. Of course not. If you killed my parents, you're a decent enough guy to tell me.” His reaction tells me everything. My parents have driven back to the pit they came from. “No, I was thinking these kennels look a lot like a puppy farm.”
“Right.” He frowns at me, momentarily unsure if he should move on or press for more.
“It is like a puppy farm,” he decides to move on. “But dogs like Figgy will benefit from that. We get Honey, Toffee and the one Martha is in love with.”
“Pumpkin.” I nod.
“Each dog in here will have a one-way ticket out. As soon as their pups hit eight weeks and are weaned, they'll all find forever homes.”
He walks me around the building, painting a brilliant picture of a life better than a tiny practice kennel on their way to a better life. Then he tells me about his long-term plan for the barn, even though I've heard it ten times.
And then we enter the kitchen prep room. Except it isn't just a prep room. It's also a nursery. Rows of little incubators fill one shelf.
“Imagine when the pups are gone, and we'll fill it with hand-rearing hedgehogs and…”
“I like hedgehogs.” I've only seen them on TV. My favorite veterinary practice seems to get a lot brought in throughout the year.
He looks nervously at me.
The emotion looks odd on his face. It's a little too close to guilt for my liking.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Honestly?” he sighs. “I see your potential, Noah. I could see how easily you could run my entire practice with your skills.”
“I feed dogs.”
“You feed dogs,” he agrees. “You manage stock, inventory supplies, and time management. You know each dog inside and out. Your record-keeping is impeccable.”
“I've been shoveling shit for eight years.”
“You've been running a business. Eight years of management skills in running kennels. You're more qualified than Tree to run a business; you just don't have a fancy degree.”
“I did enjoy it,” I grin. It's a sad grin, one that matches his guilty nerves. I enjoyed running his practice, but now he's putting me back in my place. Back in the kennels.
“Did I push you too hard?” Rhys whispers, stepping closer. “Do you want to be on the rota over here?”
“You're not…”
He looks at me. We both realize the misunderstandings here, or at least that there are some.
Rhys nods and takes both my hands in his.
“Noah. I want you to run my practice. You've shown everyone that you can do it.
But adjusting to the role while also dealing with the puppies.
Maybe I dropped you in the deep end too soon.
So I built this kennel for you. You can hide out here during your lunch break, or…
whenever you need to. It's yours. I'm… Noah, I'm offering you everything I have because…”
He stops, his head leaning forward until our foreheads touch.
“I swear to you, I did nothing to your parents. Except warn the producers, like we discussed.”
“I believe you,” I promise. “I just didn't understand the sad look on your face.”
I do now.
It wasn't guilt over something he'd done to them, but over something he was doing to me.
I don't mind. I'm happy. He's only pushing me to do what I know I'm capable of when self-doubt isn't creeping in.