Ryan had already fed the dogs by the time they made it downstairs. Both animals looked better than they had yesterday, their eyes brighter despite the lingering pain. Delilah’s tail wagged when she saw Sonny, her whole body wiggling with excitement. Hercules limped over more slowly, his nose immediately finding Sonny’s hand.
The drive to the clinic took twenty minutes. Sonny spent most of it twisted around in his seat, watching the dogs. Delilah had her head resting on Hercules shoulder. The male dog was panting despite the cool air from the vents, his sides expanding with each labored breath.
“They’re going to be fine.” Reese squeezed Sonny’s knee. “Ryan said they both did well overnight. No complications.”
“Ryan’s not a vet. He could have missed something.” Sonny knew he was being irrational, knew that Ryan had more medical training than he would ever possess. But fear didn’t care about logic. “What if the infection spread? What if Hercules’s breathing gets worse?”
Reese’s hand tightened on Sonny’s knee, not painful but firm. “Then Dr. Sullivan will handle it. That’s why we’re going to the clinic. So professionals can check on them.”
The clinic appeared ahead, the same Victorian house from before. Reese pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine. Sonny was already opening his door before the truck had fully stopped, his body moving on instinct. The dogs needed him. That was more important than waiting for the vehicle to settle.
Dr. Sullivan met them at the door, Ryan beside him. Both men wore matching expressions of professional focus mixed with something gentler. The vet’s eyes swept over Delilah and Hercules, taking in their condition with practiced assessment.
“Bring them straight to the exam room.” Dr. Sullivan held the door wider, making space for Reese carrying Delilah. “Let’s see how they’re healing.”
The clinic smelled like antiseptic and something floral that was probably meant to be calming. Sonny’s shoes made soft sounds against the tile floor as he helped Hercules limp down the hallway.
Dr. Sullivan directed them to the same large exam room from before. The space felt more familiar now, less intimidating. Reese set Delilah on the padded table while Sonny lifted Hercules and placed him beside her. Both dogs immediately pressed together like they always did.
The examination took longer than Sonny expected. Dr. Sullivan was thorough, checking every wound, every scar, every place where the dogs' bodies showed damage. His hands were gentle, his voice low and soothing when either animal showed signs of stress. Ryan assisted, holding Delilah steady while the vet examined her infected leg.
Sonny stood there, rubbing Delilah’s head. His fingers moved through her fur, then he scratched behind her remaining ear. The dog’s tail wagged slowly, her trust in Sonny extending to the vet by proximity. Hercules was panting harder now, his anxiety making the damaged ribs work overtime. Sonny’s free hand found the male dog’s scarred shoulder, offering comfort through touch.
Dr. Sullivan straightened from examining Delilah’s leg, his expression shifting to something that might have been satisfaction. “The infection is responding well to the antibiotics. The swelling has gone down significantly. We need to keep her on the medication for another week, but I’m optimistic about her recovery.”
Relief flooded through Sonny so fast it made him dizzy. His knees went weak, his body sagging against the exam table. Delilah was going to be okay. The infection wasn’t spreading. She was healing.
“And Hercules?” Sonny asked, his fear about the male dog’s condition evident.
Dr. Sullivan moved to examine Hercules more thoroughly, his hands probing the misshapen ribs. The dog whimpered softly but didn’t try to pull away. “His breathing is better. The pain medication is helping. I still recommend surgery to reset the ribs, but I think we can wait another few weeks until he’s stronger. Let him gain some weight, build up his stamina. Then we’ll schedule the procedure.”
Better. They were both doing better. Sonny’s eyes stung with tears he refused to let fall. These dogs had suffered for weeks in that fighting ring. And now they were healing, getting the care they deserved, surrounded by people who actually gave a damn about their wellbeing.
Reese’s hand found his lower back. His mate’s presence wrapped around Sonny like a physical barrier between him and the emotion trying to overwhelm him.
“They’re doing really well, all things considered.” Dr. Sullivan was making notes on his tablet, his fingers moving across the screen. “You’ve done an excellent job caring for them. Most dogs in their condition wouldn’t have survived this long without proper medical intervention.”
The praise made something warm bloom in Sonny’s stomach. He’d kept them alive. Through two days of running and hiding and fear, he’d managed to keep both dogs breathing. It wasn’t much, but it was something. It mattered.
Dr. Sullivan spent another twenty minutes going over care instructions, adjusting medication dosages, once again explaining what warning signs to watch for. Sonny absorbed every word, his brain filing away information with the same focus he’d used when learning to patch up fighting dogs in the first place. These dogs were his responsibility now. He needed to know how to keep them healthy.
They left the clinic with bags full of supplies and a follow-up appointment scheduled for next week. Delilah walked beside Sonny with only a slight limp, her injured leg bearing more weight than it had yesterday. Hercules moved slowly but with more confidence, his tail actually wagging when Reese opened the truck door.
Sonny helped both dogs into the back seat, making sure they were comfortable before climbing into the passenger side. His body felt lighter than it had in days, the anxiety that had been sitting on him since stealing the dogs finally easing. They were going to be okay. Both of them. The infection was clearing. The ribs would be healed. Everything was going to work out.
“We should celebrate,” Sonny suggested excitedly. He twisted in his seat to look at Reese, his mate’s ice-blue eyes already fixed on him. “The dogs are doing well. That’s worth celebrating, right? We could get them a treat or something. Do dogs eat ice cream? I feel like dogs probably shouldn’t eat ice cream, but maybe just a little bit wouldn’t hurt.”
Reese smiled. “There’s a place called Second Scoops a few blocks from here. They do dog-friendly ice cream.”
“Dog-friendly ice cream is a thing that exists? That’s amazing. That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.” Sonny was already bouncing in his seat, his body unable to contain the sudden rush of happiness. “We’re taking the dogs for ice cream. This is happening. I need you to drive to this magical place immediately.”
The drive to Second Scoops took less than five minutes. The building was small, painted in cheerful colors that probably violated multiple aesthetic guidelines. A hand-painted sign above the door showed a cartoon dog licking an ice cream cone. Picnic tables were scattered across the back patio, shaded by large umbrellas. The whole place looked like something out of a children's book, bright and welcoming and slightly absurd.
Sonny loved it immediately.
They parked, and Reese helped get the dogs out of the truck. Both animals seemed confused by the new location, their noses working overtime to process all the scents. Delilah’s tail started wagging when she caught the smell of something sweet coming from inside the building. Hercules was more cautious, staying close to Sonny’s leg.
The interior of Second Scoops was even more cheerful than the exterior. The walls were covered in photos of dogs enjoying ice cream, their faces covered in melted treats. A young woman stood behind the counter, her expression brightening when she saw them enter with Delilah and Hercules.
