Page 5 of Bad Decisions & Back Roads

“I worried about how to do this…if I could,” she continued, folding her arms tighter across herself.Not defensive but contained.Like she was holding something in.

I flinched back.“Stop.”My voice cracked.“Where are you going?”

“This has to be done,” she muttered as if talking to herself.

“What does that even mean?”I dragged a hand through my wet hair, trying to catch up, trying to find the version of her I knew.“I don’t understand.”

Her fingernails dug into her own arms hard enough I wondered if she even felt it.Her mouth kept trembling before she pressed it flat again.

“I can’t love you.”The words came out too fast.She swallowed hard.“Not the way you think.”

The words hit like a slap.I can’t love you.Maybe I’d been the only one stupid enough to believe this had been real.

Every moment we’d had twisted in my head—the quiet between us at the lake, the way she said my name like it mattered, the way she fit against me like she belonged there.Had I imagined all of it?

“Please,” she whispered, and for one terrible second, she sounded likemyGia again.“Save the puppy.Don’t come after me.”

There was something…a crack.Something raw and breaking, fighting its way to the surface?—

My breath caught.

But she buried whatever she fought to contain just as fast.

“For you and me, this is goodbye.”

ChapterTwo

TIMOTHY

Timothy 36

Gia 34

Buck’s weightdragged my arms down on my sprint into Vision Veterinary Hospital and Emergency Center.The wiggly hundred-pound Labrador was still trying to wag his tail—stupid, trusting thing—like this was any normal day and not…not this.

Blood flicked across the floor with every thump of movement.I felt his blood everywhere.On my shirt.My hands.My throat.This was my fault.

“Help,” I heard myself say.

The receptionist—young, polished, all clean edges—looked up like I’d dragged disaster in with me, which I had.

“What room do I… Where do I take him?”I kept my tone in business mode since I was good at hiding the effects of fear.

She stared at the blood.I was sure her mind jumped through calculations on how many rooms she wanted to clean blood off the walls.Her face drained.“Uh… I think maybe the back?Just go straight back!”

I didn’t wait.I pushed through the swinging doors hard enough that they slammed behind me.The world changed from lobby brightness to fluorescent chaos, metal crates, antiseptic air, the low chorus of anxious barking dogs, and chirping machines pumping in fluids or monitoring heart rates.Several dogs had IV lines.One lay on a recovery bed while a tech worked beside it, hands steady and face unreadable.

A few heads turned as I passed, but I barely saw them.All I saw was Buck.

“On the table,” someone said.

I hauled him up onto the exam surface, which was a metal grate over a sink.My grip slipped a little.Blood smeared under my palms, warm and real and wrong.

I threw a discarded towel over his tail on instinct to stop the flicking spray.

“Dr.Stevens will be here soon,” someone said.

I didn’t look up.“Who is Dr.Stevens?”