The Perfect Lie (The Perfect Stranger #3) - Charlotte Byrd Page 0,1
older man in his seventies is watching YouTube videos on his laptop in the back. When I swing the door open after a quick knock, he jumps.
“Please, he’s been shot. You have to help,” I plead.
The man in the white coat shakes his head,
but I grab his hand and practically force him to follow me to the car. His face drops when he sees Tyler in the front seat.
“The hospital's right over there, ma'am,” he says. “This is a veterinary clinic for animals.”
“I can't go to the hospital. He asked me not to. Please, you have to help.”
The man looks at me compassionately but doesn't budge.
He keeps insisting that I have to take him to the hospital and that he can't work on him.
Finally, I’ve reached my limit. I reach into my bag and pull out the gun that Tessa left in the back seat. I spotted it when I first put Tyler in the car and didn't realize that I was going to have to use it so soon.
He throws his arms up when he sees it and his eyes become huge and round.
“You have to help me. I can't go to the hospital. Do something.”
I open the door to pull Tyler out. But it’s a struggle. He is unconscious and I can’t do it by myself. I look over at the vet for help.
“Please!” I yell.
Finally, he caves. We carry Tyler into the back of the clinic and I immediately confiscate the doctor’s phone.
“I'm going to give this back to you after we’re done, but I can't trust you with it right now,” I say when he looks up at me.
The vet unwraps Tyler's shoulder. He gets his supplies and starts to clean it up. As soon as the alcohol touches the skin, Tyler wakes up.
The vet gives him one shot followed by one more.
“I don't exactly have all of the medical equipment that I need to work on a person.”
“I know,” I say. “I really appreciate you doing anything you can.”
The man shakes his head and says, “I don't feel comfortable using an anesthetic made for animals.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Anesthesia is all about doses. The dose that you give a horse is different from what you give a cat or a rabbit or a human being.”
“Can't you just estimate using the size of a big dog. Like a Great Dane?” I suggest.
He looks at me, scandalized, and says, “No, absolutely not.”
“It's okay,” Tyler says.
“No, it's not okay. I can't leave this bullet in your shoulder. It's going to get infected.”
“So just take it out without anesthesia,” Tyler says.
“You don't know what you're asking.”
“I don't want to waste your time, Doc,” Tyler says.
The doctor shakes his head again and then brings over a thick towel.
“What's this for?” I ask.
“Put it between his teeth so that he has something to bite down on.”
I gasp and take a step away from him.
“That's what they used to do during… The Civil War?”
“That's what we all do when we don't have any anesthesia. If you don't have something between your teeth, you can break them. Now do you want me to do this or not?”
“It's going to be fine,” Tyler says. “I've been shot before, remember?”
I put the towel in his mouth and turn my face away as the doctor takes out the bullet.
I curse Mac and Maggie and Tessa and that new guy for everything they have done to put him here.
Tyler screams out, but it is muffled and I hold him as tightly as I can.
After the doctor sews up his shoulder and gives me directions as to how to take care of it, he ushers us out of the office.
“I have clients coming here soon. Actual animal clients,” he enunciates.
“Thank you so much. This really means everything to me.”
“Let's just say that you were never here,” he says.
“Of course.”
“I'm serious,” the doctor says. “I could lose my license for doing this. Give me back my phone and get the hell out of here.”
When I help Tyler into the car this time, he is stronger on his feet. The doctor stopped the blood loss and took care of his shoulder, but it will be a long time before he is fully recovered.
Still, I'm thankful.
Grateful.
He’s sitting here next to me, breathing and alive.
“Thank you,” Tyler says after I pull out of the parking lot.
“Of course.”
“No, I mean it. If it weren't for you… I would've probably died out there.”
“I would never let that happen.”
“Thank you for not going to the hospital.”
“You put