Page 188 of Mr. Charming


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No matter how much I didn’t want to admit it, I was completely and irrevocably smitten.

It would have been a lot easier for me to keep my feelings in check if I honestly believed that Dr. Evan Sholly was truly the jerk I had thought him to be when we first met. But now, I’d gotten a glimpse behind the mask he attempted to hide behind, and consequently knew that deep down, he had a sensitive and troubled soul that I wanted nothing more than to help heal. But I already knew healing Evan would take a lot more skill and caution than any bullet wound I’d treated over the years. And considering how broken Tyler had left me, I couldn’t deny worrying about whether I could truly handle the task.

How could I help anyone heal when I still had some pretty deep wounds of my own that needed tending?

I knew that contemplating it all any further would do nothing but give me a headache, and I certainly didn’t need that when I had to work in a couple of hours. I tried to push it all from my mind so that I could simply enjoy my morning run with Lucy. I glanced down at her and smiled. She ran beside me, panting with her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth. She glanced up at me for a moment, her goofy expression seemingly saying, “It’s okay, Mommy. You’ve got me.”

I reached down to quickly scratch her ear and laughed. “How about we pick it up a notch?” I said to her. “I’ll race you! Last one to the park is a rotten egg!”

I picked up my pace, and Lucy easily matched it, her tail steadily swishing behind her. The muscles in my legs working overtime was even enough to keep thoughts of Evan at bay. Feeling myself growing tired, I started concentrating on my breathing, taking measured breaths in and exhaling through my mouth.

We had just bypassed the halfway mark when I suddenly felt myself being tugged backwards. Confusion delaying my reaction, it took a moment for me to realize Lucy was pulling me, hard. She had abruptly stopped running at my side, and took off in another direction. Still gripping her leash, I was involuntarily jerked backwards along with her. A pain shot through my arm; I had forgotten how strong Lucy could be when she wanted to.

“Lucy!” I shouted. “Stop it! LUCY!”

But she was too distracted. I stumbled after her, holding on to her leash for dear life. I frantically scanned the premises, wondering what on earth had caused my well-mannered dog to suddenly go rogue.

A squirrel darted across the street and went up the nearest tree, attempting to get out of harm’s way. Lucy occasionally chased squirrels, but never with this much aggression. Gritting my teeth, I gripped the leash tighter and gave it a hard tug, but to no avail.

“Dammit, Lucy!” I shouted, disturbing the peaceful dawn air around us.

Finally, I saw the source of the problem—Lucy had spotted a feral cat.

It all made sense now. Most dogs disliked cats, but for Lucy, the hatred was personal. When she was just a puppy, she had been attacked by a cat once. Shortly after I officially adopted her, I took her for a visit to my aunt’s house. What I hadn’t known at the time was that my aunt’s pet cat had just had kittens. I hadn’t been worried though. Lucy was just a baby, and she seemed more fascinated by the kittens than anything. My aunt had even encouraged them getting to know each other.

“That way, they’ll grow up to be friends,” she had reasoned. So I went along with it, thinking it sounded like a good idea. I watched as little Lucy approached the kittens, excitedly wagging her tail and sniffing them. In return, the cats cuddled around her, their youth and innocence preventing them from holding any prejudices toward what they thought was a new friend.

All was well until Mama Cat showed up. Her name was Kimmy, and she did not take kindly to seeing a dog fraternizing with her kittens. Feeling threatened, Kimmy leapt on Lucy before either me or my aunt could stop her. What ensued next was a loud and ugly tussle that resulted in Lucy faring far worse than Kimmy. My poor pup suffered scratches all up and down her snout.

My aunt felt terrible about the whole ordeal and immediately accompanied me in taking Lucy to the vet. Fortunately, none of the scratches were too deep, and none of them were infected. They healed quickly enough, but Lucy’s pride surely hadn’t. From that point onward, she considered all cats her mortal enemy, and whenever she saw one, all Hell broke loose.

“Lucy, not now!” I scolded through clenched teeth. I tugged her leash again, and finally, she relented, having lost sight of the cat as it darted off into an alley.

Panting, I leaned over and rested my hands on my knees, my left-hand stinging from gripping and pulling the leash so hard. A cramp began to form in my side. Lucy glanced back at me, having come back to her senses. Slowly, with her head lowered and her tail tucked between her legs, she tipped back toward me.

“Lucy, honestly. This has to stop! How many times do I have to tell you that you cannot be so prejudiced! Just because you encountered one ba

d cat does not mean you have to take it out on the whole species!”

Lucy whimpered and lied down at my feet, feeling guilty.

“Unbelievable, Luce,” I muttered. I stood up, stretched, and then took a look at our surroundings, seeing that Lucy had steered us quite a bit off-course. Fortunately, our surroundings still remained fairly empty; it was still early and the morning rush hadn’t made its way outdoors yet. With the exception of one woman walking briskly down the pavement, Lucy and I were alone.

I’m not sure why, but I found myself unable to take my eyes off the woman. Perhaps it was my intuition at work. I noted that when I first spotted her, she walked in a hurry. As I continued to watch though, her pace gradually decreased until she stopped altogether.

She swayed on the spot before tipping over, her fall being quick and hard, and accompanied by her head smashing on a nearby fence on the way down. I felt like I was seeing the whole thing in slow motion as her blood began to pool on the ground.

I was running toward her before I was even consciously aware of doing so, and Lucy followed hot on my tracks.

“Hello? Ma’am? Are you all right?”

From the ground, she looked up at me. The lights were quickly going out of her eyes. I kneeled down beside her, checking her pulse and then pulling her head into my lap. Lucy walked a circle around the woman, whining.

I took a deep breath, willing myself to stay calm as I reached into my pocket for my phone and dialed 911.

“Help is on the way, ma’am,” I said, although I was fairly sure she couldn’t hear me anymore. Her breaths were coming in and out, sharp and shallow—and they were starting to become too few and far between.

A car slowed down beside us as it drove down the street. The window to the passenger’s side lowered. “Is everything okay? Need any help?” The driver, an older man, peered out at us.

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