Her chin shakes, and she puts her hand to her neck, touching the fresh scar from the accident that killed her father only a couple of months ago. “The girls were making fun of my scar,” she says quietly.
And then she turns her eyes on me, looking hurt. “Is it really that ugly?”
I look at it, feeling anger. I could get those girls to shut up.
But I push down my emotions and shrug, acting like her feelings don’t matter.
“It’s big,” I answer, pulling out of the parking lot.
She turns back around, her shoulders slumping in sadness as she drops her head.
So fucking broken.
I mean, yeah, she lost her dad recently, and her mom is caught up in her own misery and selfishness, but every time I see Rika, she looks like a feather that will blow away with the slightest breeze.
Get over it already. Crying’s not going to help.
She continues to sit quietly, so small next to me, since I’m nearly six feet now. And while Rika isn’t short, she looks like something that has melted and is about to disappear altogether.
I shake my head, checking my phone again for the time. Damn, I was late.
But then I hear a horn blow, and I pop my eyes up, seeing taillights race for me. “Shit!” I bellow, slamming on the brakes and jerking the steering wheel to the side.
Rika sucks in a breath and grabs the door as I spot a car stopped in the middle of the country road and another one swerving up ahead of me and then speeding off. I come to a screeching halt off to the side, both of our bodies pushing against our seatbelts with the sudden stop.
“Jesus,” I bark, seeing a woman kneeling in the street. “What the hell?”
The taillights of the other car grow smaller and smaller in the distance, and I look over my shoulder, not seeing any other cars coming.
Opening the door, I step out of the car, hearing Rika do the same behind me.
I walk over to the middle in the road, and as I get closer, I see what the woman is hovering over.
“I can’t believe that asshole just drove off,” she fumes, turning around to look at me.
A dog, barely alive, lies in the road, whimpering as it struggles for short, shallow breaths. There’s blood spilling out of its stomach, and I can see some of its insides.
It’s just a little guy, some kind of Spaniel, and my stomach rolls, hearing its strangled breathing.
It’s suffocating.
The prick that sped off must’ve hit it.
“Shouldn’t the kid go sit in the car?” the woman asks, looking at Rika next to me.
But I don’t spare Rika a glance. Why did everyone try to coddle her? My mother, my father, Trevor…it only weakened her.
The lady’s kids sat in her car, calling for her, and I looked down at the dog, hearing it whimper and seeing it jerk as it struggled.
“You can go ahead and go,” I tell her, gesturing to her kids in the car. “I’ll see if I can find an open vet.”
She peers up at me, looking half uncertain and half thankful. “Are you sure?” she asks, shooting her children a glance.
I nod. “Yeah, get your kids out of here.”
She stands up, gives the little dog a sad look, her eyes watering, and then she turns and gets in the car. “Thank you,” she calls.
I wait for her to leave and turn to Rika. “Go sit in the car.”
“I don’t want to.”
I narrow my eyes on her and snap, “Now.”
Her tear-filled eyes look up at me desperately, but she eventually spins around and rushes for my car.
Kneeling down, I put my hand on top of the little dog’s head, feeling his soft fur between my fingers, and stroke him gently.
His paws shake as he fights for breath, and the gargled sound in his throat is making my eyes blur and my heart pump painfully.
“It’s okay,” I say quietly, a tear spilling down my face.
Helpless. I hate being helpless.
Closing my eyes, I stroke his head and then slowly trail my hand down.
Down the back of its head, down the back of its neck…
And then I curl my fingers around its throat and squeeze as tight as I can.
It jerks, its body shaking just barely as it musters the last of its energy to fight.
But there’s barely anything left.
My body burns, every muscle tight, and I steel my jaw, trying to hold out for one more second.
Just one more second.
I squeeze my eyes shut, tears caught in my throat.
The dog spasms, and then…finally… he goes limp, the life drained out of him.
I let out a shaky breath and pull my hand away.
Fuck.
Acid bile fills my throat, and the pangs of nausea hit the back of my mouth. I heave, but I force deep breaths in and out, pushing it back down.
I slide my hands under the dog and lift him up, ready to carry him to the car, but as soon as I turn around, I stop. Rika is standing a few feet behind me, and I know she saw everything.
She looks at me like I betrayed her.
I avert my eyes, hardening myself, and walk around her, putting the dog in the back of the G-Class.