“Gideon!” She sat on his other side and put her arm around him. She didn’t give one shit that Preacher or the receptionist were watching them. “Honey, how’s Tank?”
He didn’t look up or reply. She could see his throat working compulsively and she rubbed his back through his vest and kissed his shoulder.
“He’s in surgery,” Preacher said. “His stomach is twisted or some shit like that.”
“Gastric dilatation and volvulus,” Gideon said dully.
Preacher squeezed Gideon’s other shoulder. “Dr. Brandt said if they didn’t do emergency surgery and put his stomach back into the proper place, Tank would die.”
Gideon shuddered under her hand and she said quickly, “He’s not going to die, honey.”
“He might.” Gideon’s voice was hoarse and so full of pain and fear that she had to blink back her immediate tears. “Warren said it’s the worse case of bloat he’s ever seen. Tank was already going into shock by the time Guardians got him here. They brought him in as soon as he started showing symptoms. If they’d waited even a half hour longer, Tank would be dead.”
He shuddered again and she pressed even closer to him. “I’m so sorry, honey.” She cupped his face and made him look at her. “He’s going to be okay.”
“You don’t know that.” His face was grim, and his eyes were hollow.
He pulled away from her grip and stared at the floor again. Feeling sick to her stomach, she continued to rub his back as the three of them sat in silence.
* * *
When Warren walked through the door that separated the lobby from the rest of the clinic, Grace felt Gideon’s entire body go stiff. She reached for his hand, trying not to flinch when he grabbed it and squeezed so hard her fingers went numb.
All three of them stood as Warren stopped in front of them. Gideon stared silently at Warren, the look on his face heartbreaking in its pain.
“He’s waking up from anesthesia. The de-rotation of his stomach went very well. There was no stomach necrosis, no intestinal compromise, and his spleen looks good. We’ve tacked his stomach to his abdominal wall. All things considered, he got lucky with what could have gone wrong,” Warren said.
Gideon visibly exhaled, his body slumping, but he continued to hold Grace’s hand in a tight grip.
“Thank fucking Christ,” Preacher said.
“He’s not out of trouble yet,” Warren said. “He’s woken up from the anesthesia, but his heart is in arrhythmia.”
“What does that mean?” Preacher said.
“His heart is beating irregular and too fast,” Warren said. “We have him on medication that should help regulate it.”
“Is he going to die?” Gideon rasped.
“The next twenty-four hours are critical for him. The meds should fix the problem, but if they don’t…”
“He’ll die,” Gideon said.
Warren clasped his shoulder. “Tank is young and strong, Gideon. He has a good chance.”
“Can we see him?” Grace said.
“Yes, for a few minutes. He’s still pretty groggy. He’ll stay with us overnight, obviously, and we’ll call you if anything changes.”
“I should stay here just in case -”
Warren shook his head. “There’s no need, Gideon. You can’t sit back there with him and there isn’t anything you can do for Tank sitting in these chairs. Go home and try and get some rest.”
He clasped Gideon’s shoulder. “You know that Hal’s my best tech and he’s working today. He’ll keep a close eye on Tank until the clinic closes, and our new vet will stay with him overnight. If anything happens, we’ll call you immediately.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Gideon, do you want something to eat? I can make grilled cheese sandwiches or -”
“I’m not hungry.” He grabbed a beer from the fridge, opened it, and drank half of it in three large swallows.
“He’ll be okay.” Grace slid her arms around him and kissed his chest through his shirt. “He’s gonna make it.”
“You don’t know that.” He pushed away from her and drank the rest of his beer before grabbing another one. “You heard Warren. There’s a chance that he’ll still die.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean he will die. Tank is young and healthy and -”
“I should have fed him smaller more frequent meals.” Gideon stared at Tank’s food dish sitting on the floor before kicking it across the kitchen. It smashed into the wall, leaving a scuff mark on the paint, and Grace squeezed his arm.
“Honey, it’s okay.”
“It isn’t!” Her jerked free of her grip. “I knew bloat was an issue and that feeding him smaller more frequent meals helps with that. But I was too fucking lazy and so I fed him twice a day and now he’s lying in that goddamn clinic sliced open and staples holding his fucking insides together, and it’s all my goddamn fault. He’s dying because of me! Because of me!”
He slammed his fist down on the counter, relishing the stinging pain that travelled up his arm.
“He isn’t dying,” she said. “Yes, he’s not out of the woods yet because of his heart, but Warren didn’t say he’s dying. Honey, I know you’re afraid and I know you want to blame yourself, but Great Danes are susceptible to bloat. It happens and it isn’t because of anything you did. All right?”
“It is my fault,” he said. “I lost him because I’m an idiot.”
“Stop acting like Tank is already dead. He isn’t dead,” Grace said.
He turned on her, his fear and his anger boiling together until it felt like a basket of bees buzzed madly in the middle of his brain. “He’s going to die, Gracie! You know how I know that? Because everyone I love dies. So, don’t sit there and tell me that he’s going to be fine. Because I love him and when I love something… it fucking dies!”
He could see her trying to think of the gentlest way to tell him he was insane, and it flamed his anger into a raging inferno.
“I’m not crazy, Gracie! You think I don’t know that you love me? I do, and I wish to fucking God that you didn’t because I can’t love you. I can’t! You think I’m being selfish because I won’t give you the love you want from me, but I’m protecting you. Can’t you see that? I’m keeping you safe because loving me is a fucking curse. You need to stay away from me.”
“Gideon.” She reached for his hand and he turned away from her and stared out the kitchen window.
He clenched his hands around the counter when her soft hand rested on his back. “Honey, you’re afraid for Tank, and you’re upset and you’re not thinking straight. I’m not going to die just because you let yourself love me. It doesn’t work that way. It isn’t -”
“Stop it!” he shouted. “Just stop, Gracie! I should never have let his happen. I should have never had sex with you.”
“It isn’t just sex between us,” Grace said. “I know you’re hurting, but don’t pretend that what’s happening between us is based on us just getting our rocks off with each other. Don’t act like you regret sleeping with me because -”