Chapter Twelve

Lynton

Lynton woke up half-dressed, cold and alone on the couch. Wasn't that just the story of his life? He lay there while Lucky jumped up and nuzzled him affectionately, back to her old self now the dog had gone. He was philosophical about Austin's departure. Clearly Austin believed he and Lynton could never work. Or maybe it was something more. Maybe Lynton was getting a dose of his own medicine. Austin had got what he wanted—a thorough seeing-to—and retreated satisfied. Or worst-case scenario, Austin had run for the hills because Lynton had declared his love. Yeah, that was more likely.

Christ, what had he been thinking? He hadn't even known he was going to say it before it spilled from his lips. Didn't even know it was in him. Did he mean it? He lay staring at the ceiling with Lucky purring on his belly and warming his skin the way Austin did.

He guessed he did, yeah. Austin had burrowed deep inside him, evading Lynton's defenses and peeling him apart.

How to persuade Austin that he'd meant it?

◆◆◆

Austin

Monday morning was the most hated morning of the week for Austin, with stiff competition from Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. He rolled out of bed, used the bathroom, then whistled at the door for Rupert who lay still slumbering on the end of the bed. Rupert didn't bound off like he normally did, but it wasn't completely out of character. Rupert often liked a lie-in. Often he continued snoozing while Austin got ready for work. It was fine. At least one of them got to sleep in.

Austin went into the kitchen. Yesterday he'd paid the electricity bill with the hundred dollars from Lynton and bought some groceries with the change. He made himself a cheese and tomato sandwich for his lunch and stashed it in the little bag he took to work before he made his morning coffee. He spooned out a fresh bowl of food for Rupert, noting as he threw the last meal away, that he'd barely touched last evening's portion.

This was unusual. Austin felt a shudder of unease pass through him. He didn't want to start with any paranoia concerning Rupert's health. Not now. The dog was entitled to be tired and not feel like eating. Everyone felt like that now and then, man and beast. Austin could write the book on being tired and not feeling like eating.

He took his coffee to the bedroom, put it down on the nightstand and went over to Rupert, who still lay sprawled over the end of the bed.

"Hey, big boy," he greeted his dog.

Rupert raised his head with a gargantuan effort as though it weighed a ton. His tongue lolled out of his mouth and he looked at Austin askance with his eyes rolling jerkily in his head.

Terror seized Austin. He gripped his dog's head with both hands, staring down into his unfocused eyes. "Rupert, what's wrong?"

Rupert merely regarded him with those crossed eyes, his head shaking in Austin's hands. God, is he having a seizure?

Austin stood up. "Come on, boy." He gestured to the dog and Rupert gamely got up on legs that seemed to bow under him before bounding to the floor. He trotted after Austin as he led the way to the door and went sideways, head first into the wall.

Austin cried out, grabbing for Rupert as the dog's legs collapsed and he toppled to the ground.

Austin burst through the doors of the animal hospital. He carried Rupert, staggering under his weight, looking wildly around as though Lynton might be lying in wait behind the door, just waiting to be Austin's knight in shining armor once more.

Christina Buckley was standing behind the desk talking to one of the receptionists and she gestured Austin quickly forward. "I think he's had a stroke," Austin choked out as he followed Christina down the corridor. She led him into an examination room.

"Put him on the table. I'll get one of the vets." She hurried out.

Austin laid Rupert down. Rupert's head lolled, his eyes rolling and glassy. Austin bent down, dropped his forehead to his dog's and with eyes closed, he murmured soft words of reassurance.

He looked up as the door closed and his breath left his chest with relief when he saw Lynton.

"What's happened?" Lynton strode forward.

"I don't know."

Austin stood back as Lynton cradled Rupert's head, looking into his eyes. He lifted his lips, peeling them back to look at Rupert's gums, then he reached for a black piece of equipment from the wall with a light on one end.

He shone the scope into Rupert's ears, folding them back for a good look into the ear canal. Then he straightened up. "Let's get him down. Let me see him walk."

He helped Austin lift Rupert down and set him on his feet. The two of them watched as Rupert glanced around the room, unsure, before he trotted forward, leaning over, paws and legs uncoordinated, heading straight for the wall. Austin grabbed for him, cushioning the blow as he collided with it. Rupert bent over and retched, vomiting weakly on the floor.

Austin knelt there looking up at Lynton with tears in his eyes. "Tell me he's not had a stroke, please."

Lynton shook his head. "Labyrinthitis. It's an extension of otitis media."

Austin blinked at him. "What?"

"He's got an infection of the middle ear that's spread to the inner ear. Any upset to this causes problems with balance and coordination."

"That's all?"

"Yeah. He needs some strong antibiotics. I'll admit him for the night because his symptoms are so severe."

Austin swallowed. "Oh Christ, I can't afford it, Lynton."

Lynton knelt before him, his violet gaze tender. "Hush." He cupped Austin's head, looking down into his eyes. "Didn't I say it was okay to hold out a hand for help? Do you really think I'm going to abandon you now?"

Austin placed the palm of his hand against Lynton's chest. Tears streaked his cheeks. Lynton gathered him close and held him, stroking his hair with a gentle hand. Austin's chest was full with both misery and relief. He stifled the sobs that wanted to break free, cursing himself for letting Lynton see him like this again.

Pulling away, he crouched down and looked at Rupert. "You're to go with Doctor Brooke again. He's going to make you better." He gave Rupert a hug before he got shakily to his feet.

Lynton bent down. He scooped Rupert up into his arms, then he leaned in close and planted a soft kiss on Austin's lips. "Go to work, then get some rest and try not to worry. I'll call you later."

Austin didn't speak. He followed Lynton to the door and watched the two most important things in his life disappear down the corridor.

When he got back to his car, he realized he hadn't called work to tell them he was going to be late. He started the engine and hurriedly backed out of his space. He wasn't so late. Hopefully it would be okay.

Austin spotted Dennis at the far end of the warehouse when he got there just after eight-thirty. He hurried down the noisy aisle, avoiding a forklift truck. Anxiety clawed at him.

"Dennis, I'm really sorry I'm late. I had an emergency with my dog. I had to take him straight to the vet."

Dennis turned around, his face like thunder. "Your dog is sick an awful lot. Seems like you'd do better to put it out of its misery."

Austin stiffened, glowering. "He's got labyrinthitis." He hoped the big word would both impress and confuse Dennis.

Dennis looked like he didn't give two shits. "This is the last time you let me down, Bale."

"What?"

"You're over an hour late with no phone call. You were late last week and again now, with the same excuse. How about you take your excuses to a different employer and see if they buy it?"

Austin stared. "What? Are you firing me?"

"Yeah. Get your stuff and go."

"You can't!"

"Can't I? You're unreliable and can't keep your mind on the job."

"I can't keep my mind on the job because it was numbed years ago!" Austin cried. "There are only so many boxes you can pack before you lose the will to live!"

Dennis's eyes narrowed. "Always thought you were better than us, haven't you? Well good luck finding that brain surgeon's job of your dreams." He turned and walked away, leaving Austin staring after him.

Austin got in his car and sat there for a while. He was dry-eyed, sure he had cried out his last remaining tears that morning at the hospital. His head and neck ached and his body felt shivery as though he was coming down with a cold. That would just add insult to injury.

It wasn't payday until Thursday and now his pay would be docked of four days. How would he manage that month—and how would he manage every month after that when Dennis probably wouldn't give him a reference for another job?

He thought of seeing a lawyer, of taking Dennis to court for unfair dismissal, but what was the point? He couldn't afford it and Dennis would probably win anyway. And besides, did he really want to fight to get that shitty job back?

He sank low in his seat and sat there for the longest time.