Chapter 10 - DON’T YOU DIE ON ME
“Rub his chest.”
Ben did.
“Harder?”
“No. Gentle. Two fingers.”
Officer Ruiz blew through a red light.
The city blurred past them.
“Come on,” Ben whispered.
The puppy lay in his hands.
So small.
Too small.
“Come on, Champ.”
Ruiz glanced at him.
“You named him?”
“Just now.”
“Keep talking.”
“Champ, you hear me? You are not dying in my truck.”
“It’s my truck.”
“Not helping, Ruiz.”
She hit the horn.
Ben rubbed the puppy’s chest.
“Come on.”
Nothing.
His throat tightened.
He thought about the puppy crying in the cardboard box.
The cold alley.
Ruby curling around him.
The new shelter.
One warm morning.
Was that all he got?
“One day?”
Ben’s voice broke.
“You fought through that whole damn storm for one day?”
Ruiz turned hard into the veterinary hospital parking lot.
“Stay with me, Champ.”
A gasp.
Tiny.
Barely there.
Ben looked down.
“Again.”
Another breath.
“Yes.”
He almost shouted.
“Yes, that’s it!”
The vet team rushed outside.
They took Champ from him.
The doors closed.
Ben stood in the lobby dripping rainwater and mud onto the floor.
Ruiz touched his shoulder.
“You did what you could.”
“Don’t say that.”
“What?”
“That’s what people say before bad news.”
Two hours passed.
Ben called Lisa.
“How’s Ruby?”
“Walking in circles.”
“She looking for him?”
“Yeah.”
“Tell her he’s okay.”
“Is he?”
Ben stared at the treatment-room doors.
“I don’t know.”
The veterinarian finally came out.
Dr. Collins.
She sat across from Ben.
“He has pneumonia.”
Ben swallowed.
“Bad?”
“Pretty bad.”
“Can you fix it?”
“We’re treating him with oxygen, fluids, antibiotics. He’s also underweight.”
“Whatever it costs.”
Dr. Collins hesitated.
“Treatment could run several thousand dollars.”
“Do it.”
“Mr. Carter—”
“Do it.”
She nodded.
“We will.”
Ben went outside.
He checked his bank app.
Balance: $412.18.
He laughed quietly.
Ruiz looked at him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re broke.”
Ben looked over.
“Is it that obvious?”
“You own a restaurant.”
“Fair.”
Ruiz leaned against the wall.
“People online are offering help.”
“I don’t want money for me.”
“Then don’t take it for you.”
Ben looked at her.
“Take it for the dogs.”
That afternoon, Lisa created a rescue fund.
Ben protested for ten minutes.
Then he stopped when donations passed ten thousand dollars.
By evening, Champ was stable.
Ben returned to the restaurant.
Ruby ran to him.
She sniffed his hands.
Ben crouched.
“He’s alive.”
Ruby whined.
“He’s fighting.”
She licked his face.
Then Ben noticed something taped to the shelter.
A folded piece of paper.
No name.
No envelope.
He opened it.
One sentence was written in black marker.
GET RID OF THE DOGS OR NEXT TIME THE RESTAURANT BURNS.
Ben slowly looked toward the back door.
The threat wasn’t from Harold.
It wasn’t from Mercer.
May you like
Someone else wanted the dogs gone.
And they were willing to set fire to his restaurant.
