Page 71 of Vetted for Vengeance
Rhys
The practice is louder than usual.
Puppies squeak from the recovery cages, someone laughs in the prep room, and the camera crew are whispering instructions to each other while trying not to get in anyone’s way.
Normal chaos.
Noah stands in the middle of it like a conductor. Clipboard in hand, puppies temporarily absent from his pockets for once.
“Louise, can you move the rabbit to kennel three? I need the heat pad clear for the next one.”
Louise nods and moves instantly.
He’s good at this.
Too good.
I lean against the prep room doorframe, watching him, letting the noise of the practice fade behind the quiet satisfaction of seeing him where he belongs.
The man who arrived here just days ago and barely spoke.
Now he’s directing surgeons.
“Dr. Calder,” Noah calls without even looking up. “You’re supposed to be scrubbing for the next spay.”
“You seem to be running the place without me.”
He grins.
“I am.”
The grin fades a second later as he turns away to answer another question.
And that’s when I see him.
Someone out across the car park. Standing beside the hedge line.
Not walking.
Not approaching.
Just standing.
Watching.
The same man from the restaurant window. I know it instantly.
Predators recognize predators.
My hand tightens around the edge of the doorframe. The distance is too far to see his expression clearly, but I don’t need to.
I can feel it.
His focus is obvious.
He isn’t watching the building.
He’s watching Noah.
