not like she’s permanently scarred.”
Drew sighed. “She has a lot pull, Brooke. She has judges in her family and very influential friends. Roger is a very prominent attorney, and he also has influential friends. Even worse, he dotes on Kristen. Spoils her. I think in the back of his mind he’s afraid of losing her, so he indulges her. Together they have a lot of money, and that buys a lot. I don’t think her threat is an idle one.”
Just then he heard a weak bark. Brooke sat up in bed her face alarmed. “Roscoe?” she called, but the dog didn’t come into the bedroom.
“Roscoe, come,” she called again, but still the dog didn’t materialize. She climbed out of bed, hastily slipping into a robe. Drew followed her, collecting his clothes from the foyer and dressing quickly.
“Oh, no,” Brooke said softly as she knelt beside Roscoe, who lay inert. “Oh, God, no.”
Drew rushed over and knelt beside the dog and felt his throat. “He’s still alive. Do you have someone you can call?”
“Yes.” He scooped up the dog and followed her to the foyer. She found her basket. Dumping out the stuffed dog and sunflowers, she came up with her phone.
She ran to the bedroom as he heard her talking to the other person on the end of the line. When she came back out, she was fully dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt.
She grabbed up her wallet and keys and they left the apartment, Roscoe a silent, warm weight in his arms. He hoped the dog was going to be okay. He was kind of getting fond of him. And he already had an inkling that the loss would devastate Brooke. She didn’t need that on top of everything else.
She told the cabbie, “St. Marks,” and rattled off the address. She put her hand on Roscoe’s head. “Hang on, honey.”
Once inside the hospital he saw a woman with streaked purple hair pacing in front of the reception desk. As soon as she saw them, she indicated an exam room and had Drew set the old boy on the table. An attendant came in, and the small room filled fast.
He backed up, not wanting to leave Brooke, but both the vet and Brooke were too busy to worry about him. Nevertheless, he took her hand and held it while she worriedly looked on.
The attendant picked up the dog.
The woman with the streaked hair said, “We’re taking him to the back where Dr. Scott is going to examine him. We’ll get blood, set him up with an IV and oxygen, while you and…” She looked at him.
“Drew.”
“Drew?” Her jaw dropped and she looked him up and down, taking in his costume. Her mouth snapped shut and her eyes narrowed. “You can stay here.”
“Poe,” Brooke said, her voice strained with love for her dog.
“We’ll do everything we can.”
He felt her body shake, saw tears fill her eyes and slip down her cheeks. She nodded and leaned back into him as if he was a lifeline.
He wrapped his arms around her, cradling her against his chest.
“Let’s sit down,” he said gently, steering her to one of the benches in the room.
“I can’t lose him. He means everything to me.”
“He’s still alive, Brooke. That’s something.”
She nodded and turned her teary face to his. He brought up his hand and brushed her cheek, leaving a faint trail of moisture there and on his thumb.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he was blindsided by the hard surge of tenderness he had only ever felt for his sister. Only the feeling was different, it was mixed with poignant need to sink into her sweetness, get lost in her touch. The loneliness he hadn’t realized was there until now was a hollow ache that filled with her and pulsed in cadence to his beating heart.
The world had been his enemy. His responsibility was his shield, the money his armor, and his fear his sword that would deflect even the most terrible foe. But Brooke was showing him he’d walled off his heart to everything. Including his sister. Even the comfort that another human being could offer.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she said
Drew sighed. “She has a lot pull, Brooke. She has judges in her family and very influential friends. Roger is a very prominent attorney, and he also has influential friends. Even worse, he dotes on Kristen. Spoils her. I think in the back of his mind he’s afraid of losing her, so he indulges her. Together they have a lot of money, and that buys a lot. I don’t think her threat is an idle one.”
Just then he heard a weak bark. Brooke sat up in bed her face alarmed. “Roscoe?” she called, but the dog didn’t come into the bedroom.
“Roscoe, come,” she called again, but still the dog didn’t materialize. She climbed out of bed, hastily slipping into a robe. Drew followed her, collecting his clothes from the foyer and dressing quickly.
“Oh, no,” Brooke said softly as she knelt beside Roscoe, who lay inert. “Oh, God, no.”
Drew rushed over and knelt beside the dog and felt his throat. “He’s still alive. Do you have someone you can call?”
“Yes.” He scooped up the dog and followed her to the foyer. She found her basket. Dumping out the stuffed dog and sunflowers, she came up with her phone.
She ran to the bedroom as he heard her talking to the other person on the end of the line. When she came back out, she was fully dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt.
She grabbed up her wallet and keys and they left the apartment, Roscoe a silent, warm weight in his arms. He hoped the dog was going to be okay. He was kind of getting fond of him. And he already had an inkling that the loss would devastate Brooke. She didn’t need that on top of everything else.
She told the cabbie, “St. Marks,” and rattled off the address. She put her hand on Roscoe’s head. “Hang on, honey.”
Once inside the hospital he saw a woman with streaked purple hair pacing in front of the reception desk. As soon as she saw them, she indicated an exam room and had Drew set the old boy on the table. An attendant came in, and the small room filled fast.
He backed up, not wanting to leave Brooke, but both the vet and Brooke were too busy to worry about him. Nevertheless, he took her hand and held it while she worriedly looked on.
The attendant picked up the dog.
The woman with the streaked hair said, “We’re taking him to the back where Dr. Scott is going to examine him. We’ll get blood, set him up with an IV and oxygen, while you and…” She looked at him.
“Drew.”
“Drew?” Her jaw dropped and she looked him up and down, taking in his costume. Her mouth snapped shut and her eyes narrowed. “You can stay here.”
“Poe,” Brooke said, her voice strained with love for her dog.
“We’ll do everything we can.”
He felt her body shake, saw tears fill her eyes and slip down her cheeks. She nodded and leaned back into him as if he was a lifeline.
He wrapped his arms around her, cradling her against his chest.
“Let’s sit down,” he said gently, steering her to one of the benches in the room.
“I can’t lose him. He means everything to me.”
“He’s still alive, Brooke. That’s something.”
She nodded and turned her teary face to his. He brought up his hand and brushed her cheek, leaving a faint trail of moisture there and on his thumb.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he was blindsided by the hard surge of tenderness he had only ever felt for his sister. Only the feeling was different, it was mixed with poignant need to sink into her sweetness, get lost in her touch. The loneliness he hadn’t realized was there until now was a hollow ache that filled with her and pulsed in cadence to his beating heart.
The world had been his enemy. His responsibility was his shield, the money his armor, and his fear his sword that would deflect even the most terrible foe. But Brooke was showing him he’d walled off his heart to everything. Including his sister. Even the comfort that another human being could offer.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she said
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