Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 96292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
I shake my head. “No. Not about the cat. I told you earlier. I have something I need to tell you because …” I sigh, shoulders slumping. My feelings for June are big. The thought of losing her scares the hell out of me. But losing her to a lie feels more tragic than losing her to the truth. “I just have to tell you something, but I don’t know how.”
She squints. “Something bad?”
I nod then quickly shake my head. “I don’t know.” My phone vibrates, so I grab it. “Hey,” I say to Callie.
“How’s he doing?”
“Okay. He hasn’t vomited anymore.”
“That’s good. I called Lenny, our vet. He said he’ll meet you at his office. I’m texting you the address now. He’ll bill me, so no need to worry about anything beyond getting him there. And you can take one of our cars if you need to. Also, his crate is in the garage. I really appreciate this. We’ll pay you extra.”
“It’s fine,” I say. “Really, I’m happy to do it. You kinda have him because of me anyway.”
“Don’t say that. He’s mine. My decision. But, really, thank you, Flynn. Text after Lenny sees him. We’ll head straight home after my speech.”
“K.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.” I end the call and look at the text for the vet’s contact information. Dr. Leonard Schreiber.
“It can wait,” June says.
I glance up from my phone, eyes narrowed.
“Whatever you have to tell me. It can wait. The other day, I told you we needed to talk after the orchestra. I have something I need to tell you, too. So let’s focus on Loki and talk later. Okay?”
Has she been to prison too? Seems unlikely.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Flynn
Just as we park at the vet’s office, my phone chimes with a text from Rupert.
Callie forgot to mention Lenny is an asshole. Great vet. Fantastic with animals. Terrible with humans. Don’t take anything personally.
I chuckle, showing June the text.
She giggles. “Good to know.”
I grab Loki’s crate from the back seat of my car, and we head into the tiny brown building that looks like an old, single-story brick house.
“Hello?” I call. There’s no one at the desk.
We sit in the two chairs by the fish tank. June grins. It’s a tight, goofy grin, like we’re not allowed to talk. Just us and the bubbling of the fish tank.
“You’re here,” a man says.
We turn toward him as he steps into the waiting room. He looks to be in his early thirties with brown hair in a preppy (floppy) style. Boring khaki pants, and a red and white plaid shirt.
“Yeah,” I say, standing.
“Well, you should have said something. I came in just for you.”
Yep, he’s an asshole.
“I did say something.” We step toward him.
“Well, you must not have said it very loudly.”
“Probably the white noise from the fish tank,” June says with a hint of sarcasm.
God, I love her.
“How do you know the Rawlings? Mrs. Rawlings called you a friend. You seem a little young to be her friends.”
We follow Mr. Personality to the exam room. Seems a little ageist of him to suggest she can’t have young friends.
“I’m her muse,” I say.
He holds open the door as we step past him. “What does that entail?”
I set the crate on the exam table while June sits in the chair beside it. “I have an inspirational gift. It’s hard for average people to understand.”
“His giftedness is rare and highly sought after,” June adds with a sharp nod.
I stare at her for a second, fighting my smirk.
“His great uncle is a shaman,” she continues. “A muse is a spiritual healer who deals solely with spiritual connections of the living.”
Dr. Schreiber eyes us for a few seconds before opening the crate. “Hello, little kitty. What’s your name?”
“Loki,” I say. “And I’m Flynn. This is June.”
Thanks for asking, Mr. Personality.
He frowns at me before smiling at the cat. Oh, was he actually asking Loki to speak? Or are our names irrelevant?
“What’s been going on?” he asks.
June and I look at each other.
Dr. Schreiber eyes us. “Well?”
I guess Loki can’t tell him that. Just his name.
“He vomited five or six times, and it looked like it had some blood in it. And his breathing seemed a little labored. Not as much now,” I say.
“It looked like it had blood? Or it did have blood in it?”
This is Rupert and Callie’s neighbor, so I bite my tongue and the painful urge to be a dick to this asshole. After all, people who don’t know cars might assume all dark colored leaks are oil, but it could be transmission fluid, power steering fluid …
“It was red. That’s all I know,” I say.
He starts checking Loki with a stethoscope, then looks into his ears and mouth, and presses around on his belly. “Did you get a sample?”
June wrinkles her nose.
“No,” I say.
Dr. Schreiber doesn’t look at us. “Did you take a picture?”