Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
ERIKA
I relaxed against the bank of metal cages next to Vinny and waved at Marty as she headed out.
We sat on a “clean” towel with suspicious orange stains.
The marks looked like the aftermath of some ancient diarrhea or blood disaster, but neither of us cared.
The towel had clearly been washed a hundred times, which scientifically made it fine.
“Sorry I had to drag you to do this tonight. I took an arrow out of that dog’s chest earlier today.
I had to pitch in to monitor him for a few hours. ”
Petey rested comfortably in a cage, sedated on his pain medication.
Vinny glanced up from his iPad. “I stayed sometimes with Dad here. But not on a school night. It’s Friday tomorrow. Can I skip?” He stared up at me so hopeful that I wondered if there was more to it.
“It will be a late one tonight, but we should be able to get you to school.”
He deflated. “I really want to miss tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“I’ve got a spelling test. They’re doing it spelling bee style with us standing up and spelling out loud. I’m not good at that. I can spell, but I can’t do it out loud. Mrs. Tru said it should make it easier for me when I read or spell if I do it out loud, but it doesn’t.”
This kid…my heart broke for him. And for the memories it dredged up in me.
“I was trash at it too.” I worked hard to push down the nightmare of spelling tests in school.
“Dyslexia. If a spelling word had more than one letter, forget it. And counseling? Yeah, been there. In school it made me feel like the official special-needs idiot, but in hindsight, I’m kind of glad they forced me into all those extra learning sessions. ”
“Yeah, I got the dyslexia thing.”
“Guess that’s Dad’s gift to us. The good news is you can do well once you get it figured out. The counselors help.” I grinned. “I don’t ever have to spell out loud. I still mess up spelling or reading once in a while.”
A sparkle of hope went through his eyes. “I really don’t want to do the spelling test.”
I put my hand on his forehead. “Oh, my. I think you might have a fever.” I put a hand on my mouth in fake drama. “I think that means you can’t go to school tomorrow.”
He frowned but then smiled. “I can’t go if I have a fever.”
“Nope, you sure can’t. You need to rest. To get your fever to improve, of course. How about if you help me here and then you sleep in?”
“What you did at the pool hall place was neat.”
“Thanks. I’m good at those games.”
“Will you teach me?” His gaze pleaded me to teach him.
“Sure. First lesson: when a pretty girl asks you to bet real money on something, she’s not being cute. Assume she’s way better than you. She’s going to wipe the floor with you. Your only choice is whether you let her win or clutch your wallet and run.”
“Why would I let her win?”
“Someday, you might want to lose.” The suppressed chuckle in my mouth broke free at his scowl.
“Ain’t no girl worth losing good money over,” Vinny declared.
“Smart kid. You remember that when you’re playing against a girl you have a crush on.”
Jay had phoned earlier. I needed to call back and see if he could arrange for me to return to work on Monday instead of Sunday night. That would give me time to figure out care for Vinny up in Philly.
I patted Tracker where he’d settled in next to Vinny.
“I’ve got to make a call to my boyfriend. Are you okay to watch Petey and Tracker for a minute for me?”
“I got them.”
I stood and held up my phone to try to get better signal. I walked around the corner from the bank of cages out of eyesight but not earshot. It was almost eight-thirty, which meant Jay would be watching TV.
The phone rang five times before his sleepy voice answered, “Who’s this?”
I almost identified myself but in the background I heard a woman’s whiny voice say, “Tell whoever it is that you’re busy. Hang up if it’s work. Come back to bed.”
Bed? He had another girl in bed with him. My bed?
“Who the hell is in my bed with you?” I yelled.
“Babe, it’s the TV. It’s nothing.” I detected the panic in Jay’s tone.
“Don’t you dare babe me. My father and stepmother died in a horrific accident. While I’m dealing with funeral arrangements and their personal affairs, you decide to fuck some other woman in my bed?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Sounds like it’s exactly like that.”
“Now, Erika—”
“Get out of my house. We’re done. Move your shit out of my condo by the time I arrive back on Sunday, or I’ll call the cops on you for breaking-and-entering.”
Jay rushed before I could start my next sentence, “If you’d have let me in, if you needed me, then I might not have needed to look elsewhere. Erika—”
“If there’s anything of yours left in my house,” I interrupted, “I’ll throw it on the street. If you’re there, I’m calling 911.” I hung up.
My phone immediately lit up with texts from him.
I texted him one reply: Get out.
My knees buckled and I hit the floor, the phone slipping from my hand and skidding across the linoleum. I buried my face in my palms as the sobs ripped through me—raw, ugly, unstoppable. Tears poured down my cheeks, hot and relentless, blurring everything.
How could I have been so stupid?
I knew he was bad news. Sarah told me. My gut told me.
Every instinct I had screamed to run. He wasn’t even good in bed—not once—not ever.
He’d come after me twice when angry, landing solid hits on me and then making me believe it’d been my fault.
And the way he controlled everything, like I was a thing he owned instead of a person? I hated it. I hated him.
So why had I stayed?
Because it was easier than starting a nuclear war at work. Easier than facing the fallout. Easier than admitting I’d let myself drown in something I should’ve walked away from a long time ago.
This week was turning into a full-blown disaster—an avalanche I couldn’t outrun.
My dad was dead. Gone. Just like that.
My shitty boyfriend had cheated on me. In my bed. And not with some random one-night stand. With a woman he’d clearly chosen again and again over me.
Relief washed through me—sharp and immediate—but it tangled with a colder fear. What if he refused to leave? Or worse, what if he decided to make things messy at work?
Those were things to deal with in the future. Here, my high school ex wanted me to throw away everything I’d spent years building—everything I’d bled and clawed and fought for—so I could be trapped in the nightmare I’d spent my whole life running from: life as a farm vet in the middle of nowhere.
On top of all of it, I suddenly had Vinny. A kid who needed someone to figure out how to be a parent when I could barely hold myself together.
The weight of it all crushed me. The tears kept coming, uncontrollable, burning hot trails down my face. I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t stop anything. It was like trying to hold water in my hands, every part of me slipping through before I could catch it.
Small arms wrapped around me. “He sounded like a jerk.”
I dragged my sleeve across my face, trying to force myself to breathe.
“I’m sorry,” I managed, though my voice was shredded.
“It’s just been a lot these past few days.
And now this—” A broken, strangled sob ripped through my chest, stealing whatever air I had left.
“I still can’t believe Dad is gone. That your mom is gone. ”
Vinny pressed his face into my back, his arms tightening around me like he was afraid I might disappear. “Me too,” he whispered. His voice cracked. “I miss Mom.”
The realization he was crying hit me like a punch. I turned and wrapped my arms around him, holding him as tightly as I could, clutching him like he was the only solid thing in a world that kept collapsing. “I’m sorry,” I choked out. “I’m not good at this parenting stuff.”
“You don’t have to be my parent,” he murmured into my shoulder. “Being my sister is okay.”
A ragged laugh-sob ripped out of me. “I’ve never had a brother before,” I said, voice shaking. “I might suck at being a sibling.” My chest caved and the tears surged again, deep gut-wrenching sobs that hurt like bruises blooming under skin.
Eventually, the storm slowed. We sat side by side on the floor, backs pressed to the wall, silent except for the occasional broken sob that slipped out between breaths—two people trying to hold each other together in the wreckage.
“What am I going to do?” It was a rhetorical question I’d shot into the universe as if some deity would provide answers.
“You should dump that guy,” Vinny said. Damn if the kid didn’t look proud for giving sage advice.
“Already done.” I gazed up at the ceiling and laughed. “The sick part is I’m relieved. I wanted out of that for a while.”
“What’s going on with you and Coach Hurst?” Vinny asked quietly. “He watched you play the game at the bar.”
I exhaled, staring ahead. “He thinks I should stay here and work at the clinic. Dad owed him a lot of money, and he expects me to pay it back. And we don’t exactly get along.”
“Seemed like he likes you,” Vinny said, shifting against my side, trying to get comfortable. “Is that why you don’t want to work here? Because you don’t like him?”
“It’s not that.” I shook my head. “I still have a job up north. I’m studying to be a specialist in emergency animal medicine. That means I deal with serious cases. Like dogs and cats on the edge, life-or-death stuff. I’m not good at the everyday farm work. Not like your coach.”
“You do stuff like pull arrows out of dogs? That kind of life or death stuff?”
“Yes. I’m not good at treating cows or chickens or horses anymore.”
Vinny yawned.
I suppressed a smile. “Do you want to take a nap? I’ll wake you up when we have to leave.”
He was already out.
I eased him down onto the makeshift towel bed and slid a cat bed under his head so he’d have something soft. He clung to me without even realizing it, one of his small hands fisted into the material of my shirt.
He needed me. Really needed me. I’d never carried this kind of need for someone else before. What was I supposed to do with that? What kind of life could I give him in Philadelphia?
* * *
Midnight. Where was Dr. Voodoo Ears?
I phoned him.
No answer, but a cell phone rang in the office where the door was shut.
Light poured in behind me when I opened the door, spotlighting Josh conked out half on, half off the miniature sofa. I winced just looking at the angle of his neck.
He must’ve been here the whole time, since before we got here at eight. I wondered why he didn’t go home. Maybe he figured this would save time?
His phone lay on the floor a half foot from his open palm.
I tried calling again—partly to avoid touching him, partly because the last thing I wanted was to startle him awake. The shrill ring had to be set at full volume, but he didn’t twitch.
I hadn’t stepped into this cubicle of an office in a long time.
What used to be a chaotic disaster of papers from wall to wall was now shockingly tidy with two computers, a filing cabinet, and actual open desk space.
I’m not sure I’d ever witnessed open landscape on that desk before.
Apparently, Josh had a secret neat streak.
No paper charts littered the desk like I remembered from childhood. In fact, I hadn’t seen a paper chart with multi-color stickers since I got here. Had the practice gone digital? Call me impressed to see Midstreet Veterinary Clinic charging into the twenty-first century.
Two framed pictures of youth baseball teams holding trophies rested on a ledge just above the computers. One of the frames had an engraved plate that read: World’s Best Coach.
Tucked behind one of the pictures was a thank you card. One glance at Josh confirmed he probably wouldn’t wake up if a bomb hit the building. I untucked the card. Inside was a taped picture of a fluffy terrier mix and a handwritten note:
Dear Dr. Hurst,
Thank you for all you did for Tater. We got a treasured extra month before you helped us send him to heaven. Your kindness meant everything to us during one of our most difficult times.
May God bless you,
Judy and Paul Sinclair
I tucked the card back where I’d found it.
As quietly as I could, I backed out of the office. Vinny remained asleep.
With a sigh, I checked on Petey’s chest tube and IV. “You look good, bud. You’re lucky, you know.”
The dog raised his head and met my gaze before rolling back to his side with a groan.
“Might as well let all you boys sleep for now. Where else do I have to be?”
I set my timer for two hours and made a makeshift bed next to Vinny out of clean towels. My body wasn’t going to like sleeping on concrete, but I needed a nap.