Rescue My Heart (5 page)

“
Tried to work. Couldn’t.
Needed some fun. Dancing. A little booze.”

“
Or a lot of booze. Who
was the chick?” She folded her arms across her chest after they
came inside and closed the door.

“
Chick? What
chick?”

“
I asked you first.” She
narrowed her eyes, looking for lipstick stains on his clothes and
found none.

“
I don’t know. There were
lots of chicks.”

“
Oh, I see. Lots. Must
have been a hen house.” Her tone was playful, but her heart was
hurting.

“
Yeah. But none wanted to
play. You always want to play.” He eyed the inviting
sheets.

“
Don’t think so. You’re in
no shape…” Before she could finish, he was on her, kissing her and
sliding her nightshirt up over her hips. Rory pulled her head back
from him and pushed away with her hands “I don’t think tonight is
the right time…”

“
Tonight is the perfect
time. Come ‘ere, baby,” he said, closing his fingers around her
naked butt and backing toward the bed. Baxter, who had checked out
Bruce then returned to the comfort of the soft mattress, barked as
they approached.

“
Get that stupid mutt out
of the way. I’m coming in for a landing,” he laughed.

“
He’s not a stupid mutt.
Baxter, shh,” Rory said. The dog continued to bark. The moment the
back of Bruce’s knees came in contact with the bedframe, he folded
like an ironing board and fell backward. Rory toppled down on him,
and Baxter went berserk, barking and circling.

Rory slid off Bruce and petted Baxter,
calming him down. A snort grabbed her attention. She turned to find
Bruce either sound asleep or passed out. She switched off her movie
then struggled with his dead weight, trying to get him undressed.
When she finally got him down to T-shirt and boxers, she lifted his
legs and swung him into bed.

The
effort tired her. As she tucked the covers around him, she gazed at
his face.
He looks so sweet and innocent,
like a little boy.
Rory ran her fingers
through his hair, combing it back from his forehead. He stirred a
little and swatted at her hand once.

What if
this could become something? If I got a regular job, would he love
me?
Full of doubts, Rory didn’t question
anymore. She leaned over and kissed him.
You weren’t working. You lied to me. Went clubbing. Met other
women, but came home to me.

A sigh
escaped her lips as she switched off the light and cuddled up to
Bruce. He mumbled and rolled over in his sleep, slinging an arm
over her middle. She smiled and pulled up the sheet.
I like belonging to him.
Baxter circled several times on the other side of her before
he sank down and placed his chin on her ankle. Snuggling between
her two men, Rory pulled the blanket up to her shoulders and closed
her eyes. Sleep came quickly.

Chapter Three

“
I think we should see
other people,” Bruce blurted out in the middle of Central Park.
Sweat broke out on his forehead. Rory stopped and stared at him. A
pleasant stroll on a sunny day had switched to a heart-pounding
encounter in a second.

“
What?” She tightened her
grip on her emotions and Baxter’s leash.

“
Other people.” He pushed
dirt off the cement path with his toe.

“
Have you met someone?”
Her pulse went into overdrive, dread filled her heart.

“
As a matter of
fact…”

“
Who?”

“
Always interrupting.” He
shook his head. “A girl with a regular job.”

“
Not
like me, huh?” She put her hands on her hips. Tears pricked her
eyes, but she refused to give in.
Not
gonna cry.

“
You’re a dog walker. Do
you think that’s a serious profession?”

“
I’m a writer…walking dogs
to pay the rent.”

“
Same thing.” Bruce combed
his blond hair with his fingers.

“
Not to me.” She gazed at
the ground, taking deep breaths to ease the tightness in her
chest.

“
Look, I like you and
all…but a woman who’s making a real living…”

“
I will…someday. You don’t
get it.” Rory looked away to hide the tears she could no longer
hold back. A shudder went through her.

“
It’s not like we’ve been
dating forever.” He shifted his weight.

A hefty tug from her dog
diverted her attention. Rory yelled at him for pulling on the
leash.

Bruce put his hands on her shoulders,
turning her to face him. “Look…”

Baxter bolted, ripping the
leash out of Rory’s trembling hand, and sped toward the
road.

“
Baxter! Stop!” Rory
screamed. Shoving Bruce aside, she raced full speed after the pug.
In her mad dash, she didn’t see the bicycle traffic whipping around
a curve and speeding down the hill. She pounced on the dog right
before a bike crashed into her, sending her and Baxter
flying.

Rory landed hard on her arm. Pain shot
through her body, freezing her. A loud yelp told her Baxter was
injured as well. She tried to catch her breath, her gaze searching
for her pet. She spied him nearby, spread out flat on the pavement.
He was still breathing. “Baxter,” she called.

A crowd began to gather. A pair of
concerned, dark brown, male eyes stared into hers. “Are you hurt?”
he asked.

“
No,
idiot brain. I’m fine. Does it
look
like I’m fine?” Attempting to push to her knees
from the pavement, she grimaced and let out a moan. A long scrape
on her leg was bleeding, her shoulder ached, and gravel was
embedded in her thigh. Tears clouded her eyes.

Bruce raced over. “Rory, you
okay?”

“
Baxter looks like he’s
hurt worse than I am.”

A patrolman appeared and asked Rory if
she needed an ambulance.

“
I already called,” Bruce
piped up. The wail of a siren in the distance drew
closer.

“
This numbskull was doing
sixty, I swear,” she said, pointing to the tall, brown-eyed
man.

“
That’s ridiculous. I
wasn’t doing sixty.”

The policeman turned to him. “Sir, can
you confirm your speed?”

“
There’s no posted speed
limit for bikes. I did kind of lose control around that
curve.”

“
Kinda?” Rory muttered.
She lay back down on the ground.

“
I.D., please.” The
officer put out his hand. The man handed over his driver’s
license.

“
Dr. Hanson Roberts,” the
cop said, writing in his pad. “A member of the real estate Roberts
family?” He looked up at the doctor.

“
Yeah. A ticket? What
for?” Dr. Roberts shifted his weight.

“
Reckless biking,
speeding, causing bodily injury to this young woman.”

Rory gave a half-smile. “Serves you
right. What about my dog?” She turned worried eyes to Baxter, who
lay still, whimpering.

“
I’ll take him,” the
doctor said.

“
Over my dead body…which
you almost have…”

“
I’m a vet…”

“
I don’t care if you were
in Afghanistan…”

“
A veterinarian. Hack
Roberts,” he said, extending his hand.

“
A vet? Save him.” She
ignored his offer to shake.

“
Without x-rays, I can’t
tell the extent of his injuries, but he’s awake and
alert.”

“
Dr. Roberts, you’ll have
to take some responsibility for this young lady…what’s your name,
miss?”

“
Aurora
Sampson.”

“
Aurora? What an odd
name,” muttered Hack.

“
Oh? Like Hack is normal?”
she replied, hostility oozing from every pore. Bruce tried to help
her up, but she crumbled under the pain.

“
Miss Sampson, I’m giving
you his contact information. He’d better make good on these
injuries. My card, in case he doesn’t. I’m considering criminal
charges, Doc. You can’t speed like that in Central Park. You messed
her up.” The patrolman gave Hack a dirty look.

“
Officer, would you mind
helping with the dog?” Hack asked, looking away.

“
Where are you taking
him?” Rory asked. When the ambulance drew near, the siren drowned
out his words.

He whipped out a business card and
handed it to her. “Here’s the address. Call later to find out how
he’s doing.”

“
She’s going to be in the
hospital, you jerk,” Bruce said.

“
We’ll keep him until you
can get him. Hey, I’m sorry about this.”

“
Yeah? Sorry and a
Metrocard’ll get me on the subway.” She turned an angry stare
toward him. Before she could continue her diatribe, the EMTs
approached. She answered their questions, craning her neck around
them to watch Hack and the policeman as they picked Baxter up
carefully and put him on the patrol car’s backseat. Her eyes,
blinking back tears, connected with Hack’s as the car drove
away.

“
Want me to go with you?”
Bruce asked. He combed her hair back from her forehead.

Rory
shook her head.
I wanted you to love me.
But you don’t. Don’t drag this out. One sharp pain, and it’s
over.

“
You sure?”

“
You want your freedom.
Might as well start now. I don’t want to depend on someone who
doesn’t want to be with me.”

Bruce blushed and gazed at the ground.
“It’s not like that. I wouldn’t mind…”

“
That’s
the point. You wouldn’t mind. That’s not good enough for
me.”
Do I need him now? Can’t bear to look
at him, knowing he’s dating someone else.

The EMT attendant pushed
the stretcher all the way into the ambulance and closed the door.
The pain and worry about her dog overwhelmed her. Rory let tears
fall as they drove away.

The vehicle zoomed through the
streets, zigging and zagging around traffic, whisking Rory to the
hospital. One glance at the emergency room crammed to standing room
only with people waiting to see doctors and the irony of speeding
there, only to be kept waiting for hours, wasn’t lost on her. Rory
was transferred to a bed and waited her turn in the
hall.

The raw scrape stopped stinging as
much when her natural adrenaline kicked in. She watched the blood
congeal on her leg, wondering how it was going to feel when a
doctor got around to cleaning it up. She shivered at the thought of
the unpleasantness yet to come. Every time she shifted, pain shot
through her arm like an arrow, and her shoulder ached.

Lying
flat, she covered her eyes with her hand, unable to stop the flow
of tears.
Bruce is gone. Baxter may be
dead. I’m alone. Baxter can’t be dead. I need him.
She wanted to text her Dinner Club friends, but
she only had the use of one arm.

While she waited, Rory thought about
Bruce. He had never been her ideal man, but he was fun sometimes
and faithful. Or so she’d thought. Their weekly dates had helped to
fill lonely hours spent with only the companionship of dogs. Most
people worked during the day in offices and formed friendships with
their co-workers. Rory worked with canines. She had become attached
to them and to the characters in her writing.

Her friends, Shirley and Hal, lived in
the two-bedroom down the hall. She sometimes ran errands for them,
especially in bad weather. As payback, they invited her to dinner.
She found their stories amusing, Shirley’s meals divine, and Hal’s
jokes sweet, though lame. They were like an aunt and
uncle.

Last year, they had coaxed her into
joining them in a Secret Santa, anonymous gift exchange at the
church across the street. Each person described something about
themselves, without revealing their identity. She’d given a small,
raspberry-colored, lap afghan she crocheted and had received a
beautiful, small, brass figure of a pug in return. It stood proudly
on her bookshelf. When she was lonely, she’d study the little
figurine, remembering that someone, somewhere had thought of her.
She even named it “Hugs.”

Her friends in the Dinner Club were
closest to her. The dinners at Bess’s house were gourmet,
accompanied by wine or a favorite liquor, like whipped cream vodka
or peach champagne. The ladies had a gut-stuffing, and often
raunchy, evening where they compared notes on boyfriends and bucket
lists.

After waiting four hours, Rory was
treated and left the hospital with a prescription for pain
medicine, a large hospital bill, her cuts and scrapes bandaged, and
her broken left arm in a cast. A kind man flagged a taxi for the
limping young woman. She gave the driver the address on Dr.
Roberts’ card.

The car pulled up to the Manhattan
Animal Clinic, and Rory got out. Though she was weak after the
accident and not having eaten, she managed to get through the door
to the front desk.