Page 19 of For the Love of Scott
Ben glances around. “Maybe he’s asleep.”
Scott shakes his head hard. “No. He always greets me. Not once—notonce—since the day I got him has he not come running when I get home.” He looks behind the counter and slams his fist on the Formica at the sight of the empty dog bed. He takes the stairs three at a time with Ben right behind him.
“Does he have a favorite hiding spot?” Ben asks.
“No,” Scott exclaims with another shake of his head. “I told you. Something’s wrong.” He scrapes his fingernails across his scalp. His heart hammers in his chest.Oh God, oh God, oh God.He gasps for breath.
Ben clamps a hand on his shoulder and he jumps.
“Hey, breathe. Look at me. Breathe in.”
Scott meets Ben’s gaze and sucks in a jagged breath.
“Breathe out.”
He lets out the air he’s just hauled in.
“Breathe in.”
Scott obeys, his heart slowing slightly.
“Breathe out. That’s it. Okay. Let’s go room by room, all right? We’ll find him. I’ll look up here, if you’re okay with that. You start downstairs.”
All Scott can do is nod. He forces himself to take measured breaths. He descends the stairs again carefully. Last thing he needs is to take a header. He slides both hands down the walls as he goes.
Visions of Hoya lying still on the sand flash in his brain. He swallows back his fear. Letting his fear—letting his memories—take over isn’t going to help him find Sylvester.
He blinks, shakes his head. Okay. He can do this. He can do nothing for Hoya anymore. He has to find Syl.
Scott scans the office slowly, fights the urge to skim. If he skims, he’ll miss something. The floor under the desk, the empty bottom bookshelf, under the table.Nothing.In the waiting area, he runs his gaze across the floor under the folding chairs along the wall and front window.Still nothing.
“Sylvester, buddy, where are you?” He ignores the breaking of his voice. Sylvester has to be outside then. Rhythmic thumps indicate Ben is on his way down. If he’d found Syl, he would’ve called for Scott.Dammit.
“Go through the inner kennel.” He points at a door and Ben nods, heading there immediately. “I’m gonna look in the yard. There’s a doggie door.”
“Okay,” says Ben, disappearing. Barking echoes throughout the place at Ben’s intrusion.
Scott pushes outside and flips on the floodlights. More barking fills the air.
“Syl, where are you?” He can barely get the words past his throat. He stops, bends over and braces his hands on his knees, taking several deep breaths of air. He needs to calm down. Being in a panic certainly won’t help Syl, but he’s having such a hard time focusing on the here and now. Despite the deep, even breaths, his head feels light. He shakes it, and takes another breath in and then lets it out.
Slow and not-so-steady, he moves along the walkway, his eyes scanning back and forth, slowly, methodically.
Then he sees Sylvester’s tail. His heart leaps to his throat and lodges there. Syl’s tail isn’t moving.
His tail isalwaysmoving.
“Oh, God.”Sylvester.He drops to his knees. He swallows past the lump. “Ben,” he shouts. Only he hasn’t. Tears sting his eyes. Syl— God— Please— He’s panting now. He needs help. He can’t—
“Ben—” That’s better, but still not loud enough for Ben to hear him, not over the noise the dogs are making.
Scott places a gentle hand on Sylvester’s side and turns his face to the sky.Thank you.Syl is breathing. That’s something. Fast, but steady. Good. That’s good. Unlike Scott’s own breathing. His inhales are short, his exhales deep. He can’t keep enough air in.
The bang of the door makes him start. He whips his head around and meets Ben’s wide eyes. “Ben.”
He doesn’t know if he manages volume this time, but Ben says, “It’s okay. I’m here, boo,” and is by his side in a flash.
Ben settles a hand on Sylvester’s side. “He’s breathing; that’s good. Let me call Dr. Farmer.” Ben fishes out his cell phone and is thumbing through his contacts within moments.
