But tonight’s victim let out a prolonged whine, kickstarting Shane’s stiff legs. Nauseated, he stepped from behind the truck and saw Ros kneeling over a trembling body covered by sleek black fur.
The dog was on the large side, some kind of pit bull mix from the look of him, but it didn’t attempt to get up and just lay helplessly with one of his legs bent out of shape.
Ros murmured something as he reached for the animal. “It’s okay, boy, we’ll take care of you.”
“Don’t! He could bite you,” Shane said, dashing to his knees as the poor mutt attempted to drag itself up with a prolonged, desperate whine. Its hind leg, where Shane must have hit it was broken, but that wasn’t the only injury Shane could spot in the cool glow of the truck’s headlights. One of its ears had been torn off and the edge was still one big scab, and a yellow cord was tied around its neck so tightly, it had cut into skin and now agitated raw flesh. Someone must have abandoned the unfortunate dog somewhere in the woods, and left it to die.
What kind of monster could have done something like that?
Ros pulled away, pale as a sheet. “But we have to help him…”
A glance at the dog’s underbelly confirmed that it was a male. “I know… I just… it’s better if he bites me,” Shane mumbled, gently keeping the dog down with one hand. Its eyes were wide, frantic, but he hadn’t shown his teeth yet. “Fuck…”
Ros looked up at him, keeping his distance, as Shane had requested. “It’s not your fault. It was dark, and he came out of nowhere.” The gentle fingers stroking his back, reminded him of how damp his T-shirt had gotten within the span of the two minutes that had passed since the accident.
Shane’s throat felt tight, and his fingers shook as the mutt opened its mouth and licked his fingers before shaking as if the cold had only just gotten to him. “But… he might die.”
“He’s not dead yet, okay?” Ros said with a deep breath. “I saw a blanket in the back. Let’s put him on it and take him to the vet.”
Shane stalled, the pulsing at the base of his throat so fast he could barely stand it. But this was a solution. “Yeah. Get it,” he muttered before staring at the poor dog again and gently petting its muddy flank.
Ros rushed off, but the dog never looked away, its shiny eyes begging Shane for help. He was far skinnier than he should be, with ribs stretching the skin on his side, and it occurred to Shane that the dog must have hurried toward the car in hope of seeing his master return.
If he got his hands on the bastard who treated the sweet thing like this—
“Shh, it’ll be okay. We’ll take you to a doctor,” he muttered, shuddering in disgust when a maggot crawled out of the wound on the animal’s neck.
Ros ran back with the blanket, his hand passing through the short hair on Shane’s head. “Let’s do this, I’ll pick up his back.”
“His leg’s broken,” Shane said as if it wasn’t obvious, but Ros didn’t respond and spread the blanket so they could wrap it around the injured animal with ease. They picked up the impromptu stretcher and stepped toward the car when it occurred to Shane that he had no idea whether there was someplace to take an injured animal so late. “And… where do we go? Is there like an… ER for dogs?”
Ros looked up from his phone, furiously typing with his free hand. “Already on it.”
*
The veterinary hospital was one of the last places Shane expected to find himself at in the middle of the night. Yet here he was, tucked into the corner alongside Ros, and waiting to find out more about the state of the mistreated dog they’d accidentally hit. All on the very evening when they’d disposed of a body together.
“You said you wanted a dog. Maybe it’s destiny?” Ros poked him with his foot with a hint of smile even though there were bags under the eyes. He was usually more restrained with teasing touches, but there was no one at the reception desk at the moment, and not a soul—animal or human—would notice their affection or overhear them.
Shane grunted, leaning forward with elbows resting on his spread thighs. The interior was white, decorated only with a couple of pet nutrition posters and a board with thank-you notes from grateful owners. This wasn’t the kind of place he was familiar with. His life had always been full of grime, and even though this clinic was meant to treat animals and was in no way fancy, its pristine floors and the flowers standing in a vase at the reception were just two signs that he didn’t belong here.