“I think it was meant to be.”
“How so?”
I glanced at the dog who sat on his haunches and caught my stare. I swore it saw into my soul and knew it was safe now. That he’d survived horrendous things in order to find his proper place in this world.
He needed Kas and Kas needed him.
Both of them would be their support animal.
Leaning on each other as they healed.
“That dog is yours, Kas.”
He didn’t need to tell me that.
He didn’t need to beg on the dog’s behalf.
It was a done deal.
I’d seen it the moment they’d stepped from the trees together.
Untangling myself from Kas’s arms, I dropped to my haunches and reached for the gray and white shaggy thing. “Welcome to our family, Fang.”
“No, wait—” Kas squatted in front of me, his hand clamping around the dog’s muzzle.
The dog whimpered but didn’t try to free itself. It just watched Kas with utmost trust and obedience.
I froze. “Is he still...dangerous?”
“Not sure.” Kas narrowed his eyes at the dog. “Are you?” For the strangest few moments, I swore man and canine communicated. Suddenly, Kas removed his hand from the dog’s muzzle and nodded. “Go ahead.”
The dog whined and immediately walked into me. His head bumped my knees, and his tongue licked my hand. His tail wagged hesitantly, warily, his head remaining low with submission, but his gentleness obvious.
I sucked in a breath, wincing at the wound around his neck. “I hope whoever tied him up got their ass handed to them by karma.”
“Let’s just say, whoever it was better hope Fang doesn’t recognize them one day when we’re walking down the street because I won’t be responsible for what I’ll do.”
I threw a look at Kas, utterly breathless.
For the first time—apart from his certainty of marrying me—he spoke about the future. He mentioned leaving my house, exploring the world, doing something as normal and soul-warming as walking his pet down the road.
My heart burst with overwhelming joy.
If Fang wasn’t covered in filth, I would’ve grabbed him close and kissed his scruff. I felt indebted to a dog. So thankful that Kas had something to dote upon, to feel protective of, never realizing it was him who needed the companionship. Something to touch when his triggers snapped. Something to cling to and spill his secrets when his nightmares woke him in the dark.
I would be whatever Kas needed but I could never be the silent, wonderful healer that a pet could be. “Thank you, Fang,” I whispered. “Thank you for bringing him back to me.”
The dog licked my nose, bringing another whiff of stench.
I’d never had a dog or a cat. I’d had a goldfish once that Joshua bought me for my fifteenth birthday, but I couldn’t stomach having it swim around in a bowl all alone. It looked dizzy and lonely, and I’d donated it to a local school that had a goldfish pond that looped around their playing field.
I didn’t have any dog food or a bed or any of the other stuff that came with bringing something fluffy into the house. Not to mention, he needed vet care and a bath.
It’d been one of the longest nights of my life.
Kas was half-dressed and I was gowned in something that belonged on a magazine cover, yet none of that mattered.
Standing, I pulled my cell phone from the small pocket sewn discreetly into the bodice of my dress, and brought up a rideshare app that accepted pets.
“What are you doing?” Kas asked, peering at the screen as I logged in our location.
“We’re going to the nearest vet.” I smiled at my future husband and our first official child—even if it did have four legs. “We’re going to get Fang treated, bathed, buy all the bedding, food, and treats he could ever want and then we’re going home. Together.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
I CARRIED IN THE armful of stuff that Gem had purchased on behalf of Fang, depositing it all in the middle of the living room. Fang instantly went to sniff everything, biting at the fluffy silver bed that’d cost Gem seventy-eight dollars.
My head hurt.
My balance wasn’t the best.
And the whiteouts I suffered when I was overtired had come and gone throughout the day.
But fuck me, what a day.
It’d been my favorite.
The best day of my godforsaken life—spending it with Gem and a dog I didn’t even know I needed. We’d been collected from the hotel parking lot by a woman who reeked of cigarettes and didn’t care about Fang’s stench in her run-down car, dropping us off at the closest vet.
We’d waited our turn, then endured multiple questions that we couldn’t answer about Fang’s age, health condition, and where his old owner was, until we were finally ushered into a room where he was bathed with medicated shampoo, given injections for stuff I didn’t understand, and his wounded neck clipped, cleaned, and bandaged.