Page 90 of Claimed by my Bestie's Dad

Ethan takes care of the practicalities before leading me to a chair in the waiting room.

Ethan’s hand is on my shoulder, and I turn to look up at him, my eyes wide with fear. “What if he’s—what if he?—”

“He’s going to be fine. He’s a tough dog, Madison. He’ll pull through this. These vets know what they’re doing.”

I want to believe him. I want to believe that Samson’s going to be okay, that I’m not about to lose my best friend. But the fear is still there, choking me, and I feel like I’m going to fall apart right here in the middle of the waiting room.

“Hey, breathe. Just breathe, okay?” Ethan pulls me to my feet, and I lean against him, burying my face in his chest. Ethan’s arms tighten around me, his presence warm and solid, and I cling to him like he’s the only thing keeping me upright.

Right now, he really is.

Time seems to stretch out endlessly as we wait. I have no idea how long we’re standing there, holding on to each other, but eventually, the vet comes back out, her expression serious but calm.

“He’s stable,” she says, and I sag against Ethan. “The bite wasn’t as deep as it looked, but we need to keep him here until he wakes up. I can go ahead and give you the instructions for his wound care, though.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

The vet nods, her gaze shifting to Ethan. “He’ll be just fine. It’s just your job to apply the medications to keep away any infection. This paper here tells you exactly what an infection would look like. If you saw a sign of it, you would bring him back in. Here is his medicine for pain and the instructions for how to give that. You’ll want to keep him away from other dogs for a little while so they don’t touch his wound. Now, I just need to go over the payment with you.”

I open my mouth, but Ethan beats me to it. “I’ve got it.” He pulls out a credit card and approaches the front desk.

I want to protest, but what am I going to say? I can’t pay for it on my own. I just don’t have the funds. Ethan is stepping in to save the day, and I’m not going to stop him from doing that. I need him right now.

43

ETHAN

As we finally step out ofthe vet’s office, it’s already mid-afternoon. It feels like it’s been a long day. Samson finally woke up, and he seemed overjoyed to see Madison, though he clearly doesn’t have his normal energy level.

His neck on one side has been shaved, and I can see the stitches in a clear line across it.

“I don’t want to put a leash on him,” Madison whispers to me. “I’m taking it off now that we’re out of there. I don’t want it to rub against the wound and make it open.”

She slips the leash over his head, and Samson continues to trot beside her like the obedient dog that he is. “In the car,” Madison says as we reach my car.

I unlock it, and she opens the back door. Samson sniffs at the car curiously, then steps inside daintily.

“I’m going to sit in the backseat with him again.”

“Yes, sure. Do whatever you prefer.”

I get into the driver’s seat, then turn around to see how Samson is settling in. I’m going to need to vacuum because I can already see the dog hair floating around. But I’m not worried about that at the moment.

Madison pats Samson’s head and murmurs something quietly to him. Samson turns in a couple of circles and then settles down on the seat next to her. He licks at his paw, but it’s been wrapped in a bandage so he can’t get at it.

“Madison, you doing okay?”

She nods, but the nod is mechanical, almost like she’s on autopilot. “Yeah… I mean, I think so. Just a little overwhelmed, I guess. I keep wondering if I could have stopped it from happening if I was out there in the living room.”

“You can’t know what would have happened. I think it would be smart to keep that dog in his kennel though, so he doesn’t have the chance to hurt anyone else, even you. In fact, I’ll take care of him from now on. I don’t want him to turn on you and…the baby.”

Madison nods. She bites her bottom lip as she runs a hand over Samson’s fur. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m kind of scared of him. But I have to take care of him until his owner gets home.”

“You need to tell his owner what happened to your dog. And…maybe they have someone who can come pick him up.”

Madison nods, but I can tell that she’s not in the mood to discuss logistics. She just wants to get home. I turn around and start the car.

We drive in silence for a while. I know she’s tired, and I don’t want to push her, but I can’t shake the feeling that she shouldn’t be alone tonight. Her house, with all the other dogs, is going to be the usual chaos, but she really doesn’t need any extra chaos after the kind of day she’s had.

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