Carrie Logan was a pornographer. She took – and posed – for dirty pictures.
She was no one’s good girl. And she’d never be again.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, trying to keep the tears in check. “I’m so sorry.”
Pansy reached out for her but Carrie evaded her easily, fleeing for her car, her home and her shame. More alone than she’d ever been in her life.
Chapter Thirteen
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Ethan pulled the truck up against the curb next to the little-used park across from the veterinary hospital, steeling himself, reminding himself that Gun was alive. It was early. He’d barely begun his recovery.
But the sight of such a powerful, driven, joyful creature lying immobile and in pain, likely sidelined forever from the activities he enjoyed, broke his heart.
Dr. Morrow had managed to preserve the limb, but the deep hind-leg laceration had resulted in nerve damage that may or may not improve with time. Gun would have permanent scars from the bite wounds on his face and neck and the vision in his right eye was likely compromised.
“Mr. Nash, our favorite visitor,” said the fresh-faced receptionist. “Go on back. They’re expecting you.”
The animal hospital was equipped with an infinity pool and a technician trained in physiotherapy, so Ethan had elected to keep Gun hospitalized, rather than drive him back and forth twice a day.
He went directly to the large dog runs and opened the cage door.
“Hey, buddy,” he said softly.
Gun slapped his tail half-heartedly against the blanket on which he was lying, struggled to sit up, then gave up, whining. He looked like a patchwork of dull fur and shaved skin. A line of stitches ran jaggedly along his neck and his damaged eye was swollen, giving him a sinister expression.
Dr. Morrow had confessed, once Gun was out of danger, that if the trip to the hospital had taken any longer, or the dog had lost any more blood…
Ethan understood. Without Carrie’s help, his dog would be dead.
Carrie.
So much had happened since he’d last seen her, it would be easy to forget that just before Gun had been injured, Carrie’s world had fallen apart. She thought that asking around at the school had triggered the school secretary to go digging, but Ethan didn’t think that was it. It might have precipitated events, but it hadn’t caused them.
It was a bomb waiting to go off, and while he’d tried to defuse it, the explosion had been inevitable.
The memory of her tears and the kiss that followed haunted him. The tears were his fault. He knew it wasn’t rational, it was almost certain that her secret would have come out at one point or another, but he still felt responsible.
And then, he’d taken advantage of the situation. She was vulnerable, hurting and he’d gone and kissed her. Self-centered, thoughtless male.
It took everything in him not to seek comfort from her now. She kept calling and texting, asking about Gun. He’d let her know that Gun was alive and thanked her for her help. She sounded like she really cared and maybe she did. But he had no business adding more problems to her life.
Still, he’d known her for what, a week? And he missed her.
“Why don’t you take Gun outside?” said Dr. Morrow. “That little park next door is a nice place to hang out and listen to the birds. We took his IV off yesterday, so you don’t have to worry about that. It might lift his spirits.”
It was a good idea. Gun could walk by now with help, but tired after short distances, so he gathered the dog up in his arms, blanket and all, and carried him out through the doors to a sun-dappled spot on the grass. Tall trees behind them ensured that shade was coming but for now, Ethan figured the dog could do with a little natural warmth.
Birds twittered in the low shady branches and a butterfly flickered past them but Gun barely noticed.
“Look at you, boy,” he said, ruffling the rich golden mane at the dog’s neck. He couldn’t help the dog’s physical recovery, but he could challenge his mind and hopefully lift his spirits.
Possibly even lift his own spirits enough to figure out how to handle what had happened between him and the little photographer who’d taken up residence in his mind.