Her Possessive VET || COMPLETED||✔

1

Delaney

I wake with a start, my torso springing forward as my previously slumbering body quickly folds into an L.

My breath is quick. My pulse racing. My eyes alert.

Him.

I’ve been dreaming about him again.

Donovan, my dad’s best friend who loves animals so much he became a veterinarian, and the reason I came back to my hometown after just graduating college. And now I find out that the man has moved on to greener pastures and works in New York. So the moral of the story is if you’re gonna stalk a man make sure you’re thorough. I wasn’t and now I’m paying the price in every way.

My chest heaves as I try and catch my breath.

I hear a noise mixed in with my panting and write it off as one of the sounds of my one room shack that was listed as a “quaint studio with amazing sunset views on a budget.” Yeah, sunset views all right. That is if I get the creaky stepladder out of the closet and stand on my tiptoes on the fifth and final rung, turn my neck to the side, and peer out the absolute corner of the window. So I can risk life and limb for two minutes of the sunset each day? Uhhhhh no.

But at least I didn’t have to risk my bank account running any drier than it already is. At six hundred and fifty dollars it was by far the cheapest place I could find, and the only one that allowed me to put gas in my car and stay legally insured. I’m all about cutting corners, but not when it comes to insurance. If anything happened to my car, or me, or worse someone else, due to my driving I’d be financially ruined forever without it.

I hear the noise again wondering if that’s what ruined my dream of Donovan.

I stand, moving over toward my tiny quote unquote sunset window and open it.

There it is again. It’s too loud not to recognize and I fear I know exactly what it is. I look down to the alley and see there’s nothing more than a single dumpster there.

I shake my head, feeling angry and protective at the same time as I rush to slide on some jeans and throw on a sweater as I quickly slide into some slippers.

The hallway is cold and the elevator is out so I take the stairs. The light is dim and it’s more than creepy at just after three in the morning. This isn’t the best side of town and the landlord promised that the lock on the front of the building would be fixed last week.

But it wasn’t. Now I’m the girl who’s too stupid to live just praying there’s not somebody shooting up in the stairwell or who knows what other kind of nefarious activity.

Five floors later it’s my lucky day as I arrive at the ground floor still nervous, but okay. I push open the front door of the building, glad to see the poor ladies of the night have disappeared and quickly scamper around to the side of the building.

The sound is louder now and I want to cry.

I shove up the top of the dumpster, but I’m not strong enough. It comes slamming back down. Dammit!

I try again, and again, and find that seven really is the luckiest of numbers as it finds the wall behind it and stills.

Reaching up, I grab the edge of the dumpster as I stand on my tiptoes and lean in.

My heart breaks at the sight of three Samoyed puppies inside, looking up at me crying for help with those big dark eyes and stunning white fur, although it has a tint of brown to it now after some jerk who should be locked up for life decided to put them in a dumpster in the middle of the night. I grit my teeth and my hands ball into fists, losing hold of the edge of the dumpster.

“Don’t you guys worry. I’ll be right back. I promise.”

I hate to leave them and ironically should probably put the dumpster lid back down, but that’s not happening at this point.

I dart back into the stairwell, fly into my apartment, and grab that rickety ladder.

I move as quickly as I can back down the stairs, which isn’t exactly easy as I round the corners with this big, heavy, five-stepper made out of super high grade metal, although it’s clearly been used and abused over the years. It’s on its last legs, holding on for dear life…and it’s not the only one. I hold on for dear life myself, the weight of it trying to throw me off balance and right onto my face. Why couldn’t the owner just have got one of those ultra-lightweight three steppers?

Regardless I’m out the front door a minute or two later and back at the dumpster.