The guy who’d been so rude to me in the store, the one who triggered that panic attack, now kneels before me and begins to touch Sentinel.

“What are you doing?” I ask, feeling numb.

He glances up at me, those incredibly intense light blue eyes focused on my face. “I’m figuring out how to help him. I’m a vet.”

This guy helps animals? Really? I’d have assumed he was some suit wearing CEO or something with his attitude. He sure as hell doesn’t give a damn for anyone but himself. But as he pulls his phone out, I stare at him like an idiot.

“Yeah, Sam, I need you to prep for surgery. Young German Shepard, ETA, five minutes,” he says tersely before hanging up the phone.

But my heart is stumbling in my chest. “I can’t afford it,” I say.

He hesitates, staring into my eyes like he’s searching for the reason I would have said this. But he seems to push whatever thoughts he has out of his mind. “Help me lift him. Under his flank like this,” He says, showing me to scoop up Sentinel’s back end.

I do as he says and he lifts my dog’s front end. “He’s heavy,” I mumble as we both lift. Sentinel whines again, the pained sound breaking my heart. Tears flood my eyes as I hold him, but I can’t wipe them away. Not without dropping him.

“Toward my car,” The guy says, jerking his chin toward a nice little car in the lot a few spots down from my truck. His eyes capture mine and he seems flustered. “I’ll take good care of him,” he says, and I nod, feeling my heart shattering into billions of little pieces. What if we’re hurting him, torturing him only for him to die on the way to wherever we’re going?

Lowering my face, I stare at the thick fur on Sentinel’s haunches as I carry him. Every step feels like it’s taking ten years but I know we’re moving quick. It feels like the guy is hurrying me, his steps are short, quick, yet measured and smooth.

It can’t end like this. This is my best friend, the only creature in the world that loves me, that cares for me. He’s the only thing keeping me sane, keeping me grounded, keeping me safe from my biggest enemy; myself.

The tears are too much as they stream down my cheeks. I suddenly notice other people walking along side us. A lady asks how she can help as another guy comes and carefully locks his arms under Sentinel’s ribs.

“Here?” The stranger asks the rude guy who’s helping me.

“Yeah, careful.” The rude guy glances at the woman, his thoughts seeming far away. “Can you grab my keys, front right pocket,” he says and she hesitates only a second before reaching into his pocket while he moves.

“Unlock the car, please,” he says and she does. The car chirps as she opens the door for us. The rude guy goes first, backing right into the back seat of his car with Sentinel’s front still held gently. “Lower him carefully,” he tells me as I duck in and the other guy backs off a step.

I do as I’m told and pull my arms back.

And notice the blood. Thick, crimson liquid coats my arms and I stare at it in shock. He’s bleeding. A lot. He’s going to die. There’s no way he can live through this.

“Hey.” The rude guy suddenly breaks into my thoughts while grabbing my shoulders like he had in the store to keep me from falling. I focus on his incredible blue eyes. In their depths, I see something that I feel I can trust. “I need you to keep it together, okay?”

I nod, mute. I feel something like shock settling like a fog on my brain, but I’m studying the guy now, trying to zero in on his words. “Get in.” He guides me to the passenger side and opens the door for me.

I sit down as he hurries around the front with a long, swinging stride that belies the tense situation and the set of his shoulders.

With him in the driver’s seat, I glance over my shoulder at Sentinel. His head is down, his ears in the most defeated position I’ve ever seen them in. And I reach back to offer him my fingers.

“I love you,” I whisper, my throat aching with tears, “Please don’t go. I need you.”

He sniffs my fingers, his ears shifting slightly. He lets out a sigh that sounds like exhaustion and I vaguely hear the guy beside me on the phone.

“Bring Jax. Thanks.” There’s quiet and I focus on Sentinel. Something in me tells me he’s fading fast and I try to memorize every second that passes. Memories of him as a playful puppy come to mind and I can’t help but smile as I think about it.

He used to trip on his ears. He’s get running so fast he’d lower his head and step right on those then floppy ears.

I reach out to touch one of those ears now. He grew into them. They’re tall and dark, velvety soft and fuzzy. They match his dark muzzle.

He was the best friend I could ever have hoped for. The best dog I’d ever had. The best friend I could have ever hoped for. He was far better than I deserved. His liquid brown eyes meet mine and I see the light fading out of them.

“Please don’t go, I whisper again. I know he’ll hold on for me as long as he can. I know because he’s never been the type to give anything less than one hundred percent. His ears twitch a little bit as if he’s focused on the sound of my voice. “I’m right here,” I say, the whisper of my voice barely any sound at all. But I can’t talk. I can’t say anything at all.