In a Badger Way (Honey Badger Chronicles #2) - Shelly Laurenston Page 0,94

treat a broken rib on a dog?” Stevie asked.

“Wait for it to heal on its own. We’ve removed the bullet, cleaned and sutured the wound. Now we’ll just need to watch the wound for a few days to make sure it doesn’t become infected, and in a couple of weeks, we should X-ray the ribs again. Make sure they’re healing properly. When you get him home, it’s really about restricting his exercise and general movement. Just potty breaks. We’ll give you pain meds, though. That will help. And antibiotics.”

“Can we take him home tonight?”

“It’s better if he stays here for a couple of days. That way we can drain the wound, if necessary, and keep an eye on him to make sure everything is healing properly.”

“Okay.” Charlie nodded. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“No problem. Oh. Do you need a report for the police?”

They all became quiet, gazing at the doctor blankly before Max rolled her eyes and said, “That would be great, Doc. Thanks.”

“It’s so horrible what some people will do to animals,” the full-human noted before motioning to one of the technicians. “Just unbelievable.”

“Yeah,” they all said in unison, which just sounded weird.

* * *

Stevie walked into her room. One or two of their nice neighbors had put a board over the broken window and removed the rug that had been stained by poor Benny’s blood.

But the scent of gun powder and blood still lingered in the air.

Just thinking about poor Benny had her crying again, which made Max scream from her bedroom, “Stop crying! I was the one who almost died, ya know!”

Fed up with her sister ordering her around, Stevie started back toward the door, but Shen caught her just as she stepped into the hallway. He took hold of her hand and pulled her to his room. He drew her inside and closed the door.

Still crying but no longer in a mood to fight stupid Max and her stupid mean ways, Stevie just climbed onto Shen’s bed, curled onto her side, and let herself cry as much as she wanted to.

An hour or so later, she woke up. Her eyes were swollen shut from all her tears but she wasn’t alone. Shen, also fully dressed, was behind her, tucked in close. His arm was around her waist, his face buried against the back of her neck.

And asleep on her feet was Artemis. Stevie was relieved that all the snoring was coming from the dog and not the man.

Feeling safe and comfortable—despite Artemis’s heavy head like a concrete weight on her poor feet—Stevie smiled a little bit before going back to sleep.

chapter TWENTY

Stevie looked up from her bowl of oatmeal and frowned.

“What are you wearing?” she asked.

Max paused in the doorway. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Everything.”

Charlie rushed into the room, tugging on a pair of low-heeled black shoes. “Are you guys read—what are you wearing?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s red!” Stevie and Charlie said together.

“And a minidress,” Stevie added. “You look like you’re going to a club.”

“Or hooking.”

“I don’t hook anymore.”

Charlie slapped her purse down on the kitchen table. “That’s not funny.”

“I was just kidding,” Max laughed. “You guys are so serious. You already called the vet to check on Benny. He’s doing fine. The worst of my throat damage has healed, not that anyone asked about me.”

“We were more worried about the dog,” Stevie muttered.

“Thank you,” her sister sneered. “I just don’t see what the big deal is about this dress.”

“It’s a funeral!” Charlie barked.

“So?”

“You can’t wear red to a funeral!”

“Even for people we don’t like?”

“Yes! Even for people we don’t like! It’s tacky.”

“But you plan to wear red to Dad’s funeral.”

Charlie threw up her hands. “That’s different. Besides, you didn’t even know Uncle Bob.”

“Great-Uncle Pete,” Stevie corrected.

“Whatever. Go and change,” Charlie ordered Max. “Right now. We’re running late.”

Max walked out and Charlie sat down with a big mug of coffee.

“Are you okay?” Charlie asked Stevie.

“I stabbed her seven times in the chest.”

“Sweetie, you were angry.”

“As much as it pains me to say it, I don’t really care that I stabbed her.”

“Oh.”

“She hurt our dog. She deserved what she got. What I do care about is that Mairi didn’t die.”

“What did you expect? You know you need to either shoot her in the back of the head or carve that heart right out of the bitch’s chest. Otherwise, all you’re doing is pissing off a badger.”

“Think she’ll be back?”

“No. She’s not stupid. She knows all the bears on this block are on high alert. She won’t risk it. But that