“So, you didn’t offer them a room at our place?” Shawn asked.
Cooper shook his head. “Didn’t have a good feeling about it.”
“Tug seemed pretty suspicious of our motivation,” I said. “Well, mine anyway.”
Shawn never bothered containing or controlling his laughter. It sounded like pure happiness. “He obviously didn’t realize your only concern is the dog.”
“What do you mean? I’m concerned about the boys too.” I was about to be ribbed. Again.
“C’mon. You don’t even see people unless they’re dragging around a pet,” said Cooper.
“I’ve got lots on my mind, okay?” I downed my drink. “Speaking of…I’ve got to hit the road. Nice seeing you.”
Shawn and Cooper hugged me. Jim waved from behind the bar.
I was on foot, so I took the long way home. It meant taking the boardwalk and possibly passing by Beck and Tug again. Was I already in too deep over a stranger?
Yes. Yes, I was.
They needed a roof over their heads. Nutritious meals. None of them were getting that. If money was as tight as I believed it to be, Tug had no business spending it on booze. I’d watched Beck with Callie. He’d never forgive himself if anything happened to her. Yet even though it made me distinctly uneasy, I couldn’t tell him he ought not to have a dog in his situation. He and Callie were obviously devoted to each other.
I believed it was wrong to take on pets—or people—to whom you couldn’t give one hundred percent. Who was I to judge?
Just someone who’d learned that lesson in every way possible.
Chapter Four
At six in the morning, I unlocked the door to the clinic and killed the alarms. We took turns sleeping in the clinic—April, Travis, and I—but only if we had animals who needed overnight care. I’d toyed with the idea of adding another vet to the practice, but so far that hadn’t been necessary. It would have been great to share my responsibilities with another DVM—especially on days after I’d been up all night—but it didn’t make fiscal sense. The clinic needed to be a lot busier before I could seriously consider that.
I followed the sound of soft snores and found Travis asleep on the cot in my office next to our current box of abandoned kittens. We often found pets, especially kittens, abandoned outside our back door. The little guys’ eyes were barely open, and for now, they required around-the-clock feeding with KMR—kitten milk replacement.
Travis had left unofficial feeding notes on the box, and I saw I could afford to let them all sleep for a while.
As I got coffee started, someone pounded on the back door.
I’d barely cracked it open when Beck fell inside with a nervous Callie at his heels. His breaths hitched as if he’d run. Tears streaked his face.
“What is it? What happened?”
He swiped angrily at his eyes. “Tug stole all my stuff last night. My God. I can’t believe he’d—”
“Slow down.” I gripped his shoulders. “I don’t understand. What happened?”
He sniffled. “I woke up this morning and Tug was just…gone. He took everything. He took my guitar.”
“Okay. Take a deep breath.” I locked the door and he let me guide him to one of the chairs in the waiting room. “You want coffee?”
“I want my shit back.”
“Sit down and tell me what happened.” I took one of the folding chairs and sat opposite.
“We got into a humongous fight last night.” He drew in a shuddering breath. “He was high, and—”
“On what?”
“I don’t know. Meth, probably. He used to have a…a drug problem.” He glanced away, embarrassed. “I told him I wouldn’t stick with him if he used, but he’s been acting off lately, and I knew something was up. I guess he scored last night. We got into it, and I said I wasn’t having it. When I woke up, everything was gone.”
Shit. “Is there any chance he’s just blowing off some steam.”
He shook his head. Poor kid. “No.”
His blue eyes, now ringed red with misery, streamed. I felt like I should smooth down his hair or something. I didn’t.
“Does he even play the guitar?” I asked.
“No.” Beck huffed a bitter laugh. “He’ll sell it. I worked for a year to get that guitar, and he’ll use the cash to get high.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“What will I do? That guitar is…everything. It’s all I have.”
“What about your family? Will they help you?”
He shook his head. “It’s only Mom and my stepdad. They were adamant. If I didn’t take Callie to a shelter, I had to leave.”
“Oh, Beck. I’m sorry. But she’s a beautiful animal. I’m certain she would find a loving home right away.” My words were callous, but rehoming Callie had to be better than a life on the street.
“So I should just get rid of her?” he asked, outraged.
“Beck, God knows I love animals, but I don’t think you being homeless because you want a dog is good for either you or the dog.”
He put his head in his hands. “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”
“Then explain it to me.”
“Why should I? You won’t listen. Nobody listens.” He rose and gave Callie’s leash a flick. “C’mon, baby. Let’s go.”
“Wait.” I caught his arm. “I understand you love her—”
“It’s not about me.” He pushed me away. “Callie was my half brother, Bryce’s, dog.”
“And your parents said he couldn’t keep her?”
“Bryce died.” He practically shouted the words. “Bryce is dead, and now my stepfather can’t even stand to look at Callie—”
“Wait. What?” My mind reeled. “Your half brother is dead? What happened?”
Beck sank into his chair. “Bryce had acute myeloid leukemia. AML accounts for only about twenty percent of diagnosed cases, and it’s tougher to beat than other types of the disease.”
“I’m so sorry, Beck. That’s awful.”
He glanced away. “About three years ago, Bryce went into remission, and we all thought…I guess we let ourselves believe the danger was over, you know?”
I got up to get him a bottle of water because I couldn’t bear the gut-level despair in his eyes.
“I’m the one who got the dog for him. When he was sick, we had to be so careful of germs, and he didn’t have much of a life. I mean, he did. He had the three of us and all the medical personnel. He made friends with kids in the oncology ward. But he didn’t really get to play in the park, or run, or do Boy Scouts, or hang around with school friends. He was in pain. He had to live like that for so long.”
I nodded that I understood.
“When he went into remission, I asked Mom and Roger if I could get Bryce a dog, and they said they thought it was a good idea. And it was. Bryce loved Callie. He spent every free minute training her and playing with her. He and Callie had two and a half good years together. Then some tests came back fucked up. He didn’t make it.”