Lukas
My heart is still jackhammering away in my chest as we head back to my truck. Elation from Parker’s whispered “I love you too,” is mixing with the sick worried feeling in my stomach over her hand, and the rage I’m still trying to suppress from dealing with that drunk neighbor.
I’d love nothing more than to stand here and tell Parker how much she means to me, but she’s in pain and it’s breaking my heart. That, and I don’t trust that asshole next door to let this go. I need to get my girl out of here, for good, and take her to a hospital. The pain in her hand is only going to get worse as the adrenaline leaves her system.
Cujo is laying in the back seat but he peeks out when we get close, whimpering pathetically.
“Do you think he’s hurt?” Parker asks, tears brimming in her eyes. “We need to take him to a vet. He needs X-rays,” she says.
I stare at her, aghast.
“What?” she asks. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You need X-rays, Parker. You need to see a doctor,” I tell her exasperatedly, gesturing to her broken hand.
I try to help her into the truck but she resists, pulling back. “No,” she says, turning her chin up towards me, a mulish expression on her beautiful, tear-streaked face. “I’ll go after we take Cujo to the vet.”
“Parker, don’t be stubborn. He jumped up into the truck—”
“You had to help him!” she reminds me. “He’s whimpering. He’s in pain and can’t say anything! I can wait. We’ll just get some ice to deal with the swelling.”
“Okay,” I say cajolingly, rubbing her back in an effort to coax her into the passenger seat.
“Promise?” she asks.
I grunt a reply that could go either way, but Parker is in too much pain to notice. I have NO intention of delaying her medical treatment, but I’ll figure it out once we get out of here. She winces as I help her into the truck and buckle her seatbelt. The pain on her face makes my stomach roil. I can’t stand it. I want to punch something and fix it for her all at the same time. I settle for dabbing at the tear tracks on her cheeks with the bottom of my shirt, tucking a flyaway curl behind her ear, and rubbing the freckle on her earlobe. She gives me a sweet smile filled with soft gratitude and affection as I close the door.
I round the hood of my truck, pulling my cell phone out of my pocket and clicking on Asher’s name.
He answers as I’m climbing into the truck.
“What’s up?” he grunts. I buckle my seatbelt, lock the doors and start the engine before getting into it with him. I’m half afraid Parker will jump out of the truck if it’s standing still while she hears this.
“Parker broke her hand. I’m taking her to the hospital. We have this dog; I need you to pick him up and take him to the vet—”
Parker is already yelling at me as I try to explain the situation to Asher.
“No! He’s scared! He needs me with him! You can’t just pass him off to someone else—”
Asher is sighing in the background and I don’t know how much he catches, but he gets enough. “She’s intense, man. I’ll meet you in the E.R. parking lot at Sonoma Valley Hospital.”
“Thanks, man. Can you call Julia and ask her if she can meet us in the emergency room?”
Asher grunts and hangs up.
“—you promised me!”
“No, I grunted. And this is the best way to handle it, Parker. You can’t walk around with a broken hand while we wait for a vet to see Cujo. He doesn’t like that you’re in pain any more than I do, and it’s just going to stress him out more. Asher—”
She’s weeping openly now, new tears streaming down her face as she pleads with me. “He doesn’t know Asher, and he’s going to be scared.”
“Asher is a dog whisperer. Cujo will love him. Trust me. This is best for everyone. Asher can bring him back to my place when we get you home tonight. We’ll spoil him rotten. I promise.”
Parker clams up, swallowing hard and wiping tears away as she looks out the window and then back at Cujo. I’m driving carefully, but every bump in the road makes her wince and she can’t hide how much it hurts. “Okay. Fine,” she whispers.
Asher is already in the parking lot when we get to the hospital. We trade truck keys so he doesn’t have to move Cujo. Parker opens the back door and gives the big dog a careful hug, pressing her face into his thick neck.
“Be a good boy, buddy. I’ll see you later,” I hear her tell him quietly. The big softy licks her face before I steer her towards the hospital doors.