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The nurse steadies the wheelchair while Dad helps me into Coop’s truck. Mom hands Coop my discharge paperwork, and finally—almost six days after I arrived at this hospital—we’re on our way home.
Well, not my home, but close enough.
“Thank God,” I mumble once we’re actually moving. I lay my head back on the seat rest. “I wasn’t sure how much longer I could stand that place.”
“At least your nurse was ho
t.”
I look over at Coop, and he shrugs. “What? She was. You should’ve requested a sponge bath before you left.”
I smile and close my eyes. “Next time.”
“Let’s hope there isn’t a next time.”
“Coop.”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up so I can get some sleep.”
With my eyes closed, I replay my ride with Lucifer in my head and try to figure out what I did wrong. Somewhere along the way I must fall asleep, because next thing I know, Coop is nudging me in the side.
“Rhett. Wake up.”
Every bone in my body throbs as I prepare to climb out of the truck. I’m not as sore as I was when I first woke up in the hospital—thanks to the physical therapist—but I still ache.
“I’m getting too damn old for this.”
“You’re not even thirty,” Coop reminds me.
With a hand under my good arm, he helps me down from his truck, and I brace myself for Duke and Diesel’s attack when he opens the front door.
When it doesn’t come, I follow him into the house. “Where are my boys?”
Coop drops his keys on the counter and picks up a stack of mail. “They’re at Animal Haven.”
“You took my dogs to an animal rescue?” I nearly shout, grabbing the keys he just dropped on the counter.
“Chill out. They’re being boarded, not sold.”
That doesn’t make me feel better. “Since when does Animal Haven board animals?” I’ve known Phil Gallagher my whole life. I remember when he opened Animal Haven, and not once do I remember him boarding animals for the public.
Coop thumbs through his mail and tosses it on the counter. “They don’t. It’s a special situation, and they’re being nice, helping out.”
Shaking my head, I turn toward the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“To get my damn dogs.” I respect Phil—he’s one hell of a guy—but my dogs are my babies, and they belong with me.
“Are you supposed to be driving?”
“Ask me if I care.”
Coop beats me to the door. “We should probably talk before you leave.”
“About what?”
