“Oh my God!” I turn to Striker, aghast. “What’s going on?”
But he’s already switched into bodyguard mode.
“Come here.” He grabs my forearm, pulls me toward the bathroom off the hallway. “Stay in here and lock yourself in,” he says, pushing me inside. “Don’t open the door until I get back.”
His stern, no-arguments expression silences any argument. I do as he says, locking the door behind him. I hear his first footstep, then his second, then nothing more, and I know he’s checking the rest of the house to see whether the perpetrators are still here. I lean against the bathroom counter, holding on to it so I won’t collapse in a heap on the floor. I stare at myself in the mirror, and the face that stares back at me is pale and hollow-eyed.
I don’t know how long I stand there, dizzy with fear and ears straining for any noise outside this tiny room. When I hear footsteps again, they’re familiar enough that my lungs let out a whoosh of relief.
“Ember!” Striker calls. “Open the door.”
I’m so happy he’s back that I’m actually smiling as I do what he says. But when my eyes meet his, my smile falls away instantly.
“What is it?” I ask, breath hitching.
“It’s Bert,” Striker tells me in a flat voice. “I can’t find him. He’s gone.”
29
Striker
“Bert!” Ember is screaming, nearly hysterical. “Bert!”
She tries to whistle, but she’s crying and her lips won’t form the shape. Wild-eyed with panic, Ember turns to me in the backyard. “He’s not here! He always comes when I call him!”
The hope that Bert fled the intruders through the dog door and is hiding back here disappears. “Okay, come on,” I tell her, taking her hand and leading her toward the gate. “He can’t have gone far.”
“If they didn’t take him,” she moans, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“They didn’t,” I say. “Too complicated.”
I’m working on the assumption that the intruders are connected to Cady’s ex. In which case, it doesn’t make any sense for them to take the dog. They wouldn’t be looking for a ransom, and a large dog who doesn’t like strangers would be more trouble that it was worth.
Which raises another distinct possibility.
If Bert attacked the intruders, the reason we can’t find him might be that they killed him.
I didn’t see any evidence of blood or injury inside, so I’m not gonna say anything about that to Ember. Better to just hunt for him, and hope he’s okay.
We run out of the gate into the front yard. Ember starts shouting for him again. Her cries ring out in the otherwise quiet neighborhood. It’s almost one in the morning, and the houses are dark except for a few porch lights here and there.
“What if he got hit by a car?” Ember cries in a strangled tone. “Striker, oh my God, what if he’s dead? What if —”
“Wait!” I command, freezing in my tracks. “Be quiet.”
Instantly, she stops. “What?” Ember whispers.
“Quiet,” I repeat, lower this time.
We stand unmoving in her front yard. A few seconds pass.
Then I hear it again.
A low whimper, coming from the bushes on one side of the house.
“Bert!” Ember cries, sprinting toward the sound. I follow her. As we get closer, the bushes emit a plaintive yelp that’s unmistakable. I take out the mini-flashlight I keep on my keychain and shine it toward the sound.
Sure enough, the poor mutt is hunched behind a boxwood, curled into himself. He whines softly at us.
“Hey, boy,” I murmur, crouching down. “Were you waitin’ for us to get back and help you out?”
I reach toward him. For a second I think he might bite me, since he’s obviously in pain. But instead, he cranes his head forward a couple inches and gives my hand a lick.
“Good boy,” I croak, feeling my eyes well up. “You’re gonna be just fine.”
Next to me, Ember is sobbing. “What’s wrong with him?” she chokes out. “Did he get hit by a car?”
“Not sure.” There’s no blood that I can see, but it’s dark so I might be wrong. “But he definitely ain’t okay.”
I move closer. Bert shivers a little, cowering into himself. “It’s okay, Bertie. We’re gonna get you all fixed up.” Turning to Ember, I say, “I think we need to take him to a vet. Not sure this can wait until morning.”
She blinks away tears. “Of course.”
Whatever’s wrong with him, it doesn’t seem like he wants to move, so I decide to carry him. I shift my weight forward, and gently scoop my arms under him. He whines again, but doesn’t move away. “Good boy,” I tell him, because he is.
For a second, it seems like things are fine. But then, as I start to pick him up, his right rear leg spasms against my touch. The scream Bert lets out sends a chill down my spine. Ember lets out a cry and buries her face in her hands.
“Oh my God, Striker!” She sobs. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Shhhh. He’s gonna be okay,” I say grimly, wondering whether I’m telling her the truth.
I carry Bert to Ember’s car and place him as carefully as I can in her back seat. Ember climbs back there with him. As I get behind the wheel, I see her get her phone out and start to type frantically.
“It looks like there’s an emergency vet off of Post Road,” she says after a second. Her voice is trembling; in fact, her whole body is shaking. She hands me her keys, tells me the address.
The whole drive there, I’m speeding but being as careful as I can not to go over any bumps. Ember croons to the dog as she continues to cry. It fucking breaks my heart to look at the two of them in the rearview mirror.
When we get to the animal hospital, Ember is out of the car like a shot. She’s hammering on the buzzer to the front door when I get there, Bert in my arms. A chick with bright purple hair and horn-rim glasses lets us in. At first I think she’s a nurse, but she turns out to be the doctor. She tells us we’re in luck that it’s a slow night, and has me carry Bert right into an examination room.
“I think it’s best if you stay out there for a little bit,” she says soothingly as she sees Ember’s pale, stricken face.
I lead Ember away to a chair in the waiting room. She sits rigidly, hands on her knees, and stares straight ahead as I go to a water cooler and get her a paper cup full. Mechanically, she drinks, but shakes her head when I ask her if she wants another glass.
“I can’t stand to see him in pain.” Her face crumples. “He’s such a good boy.”
“The doc will give him something for the pain right away, babe.” I sit down next to her and put my arm around her. She melts into me instantly. “Let’s not worry until there’s something to worry about.”
It’s a long damn twenty minutes before the vet comes back out again. She tells us Bert’s leg is broken, and asks us what happened. We tell her what we know, which isn’t much. “Someone broke into the house,” I say, because Ember is still having trouble talking. “He must have got out somehow. We think maybe he got hit by a car, but we don’t know.”