Page 43 of Torn

“Hey, you. Happy last day.”

“Thanks. I seem to be without a ride home. What a great way for me to launch into adulting.”

“You’re in luck. I’m in the truck on my way to pick up a stray. I’ll grab you first if you don’t mind coming with me?”

“Not at all. Now you can pick up two strays. I’m out front.”

Ten minutes later, he pulls in front of the school, and I climb into his truck wearing a big grateful smile.

“You’re a lifesaver.” I lean across the front seat to kiss his cheek. “I’m talking to Dad tonight about getting a car. This is stupid.”

“Truth. Ask for something cool, like a Mustang. Or a Corvette.”

“I’ll take anything with four wheels and a roof at this point.”

“Be careful or he’ll get you a golf cart.”

Laughing, I run my fingers through my damp hair, which is starting to frizz. “So, where are we going?”

“I just got a call about a dog on the highway; they said he almost got hit a few times.”

“On the highway? Where? How are you even going to find him?”

He makes a left turn and turns the radio off. “They gave me a mile marker. They said he’s not moving, just huddled up against the cement divider.”

This doesn’t sound like it’s going to go well. “Oh no. Tor, he’s probably hurt.”

Nodding, he pulls the truck onto the onramp of the highway. “Can you climb in back and find one of my leashes? And there’s some treats back there; I’ll need those.”

I lean over the seat into the back and find everything he mentioned and then spread an old blanket over the back seat. The dog’s paws and coat will be wet from the rain and I don’t want Tor’s truck to get all muddy. I grab an old towel so we can dry the dog off.

“There he is.”

I turn back into my seat as he pulls the truck over onto the bumpy shoulder of the highway and throws it in park. He grabsthe leash and the treats, shoving a handful into his pocket, and we both stare across the two-lane busy road at the large off-white dog who’s got himself smashed up against the divider, his uncontrollable shaking visible from here.

Tor turns his attention to me. “Kenzi, listen to me. I want you to stay right here. No matter what, donottry to follow me onto that highway, okay?”

I look at him, to the dog on the other side of all that traffic, and then back at him. “Tor, you’re scaring me. This is dangerous. It’s pouring rain.”

“I can’t leave him there. He’ll get killed.”

“So could you,” I point out. It’s raining and foggy, and the cars are flying past us nonstop. He’s crazy if he thinks he’s going to reach that dog.

“I’ll be fine. If one of these assholes hits me, call nine-one-one and stay in this truck.”

My heart seizes at his words. How can he say he’ll be fine and then talk about calling 911 all in the same breath?

“What? Tor, maybe you should let animal control come. Let’s just wait here for them.”

“And do what? Watch that poor dog scared out of its mind in the middle of a four-lane highway? It’ll take AC too long to get here. I’m here now.”

“I know, but—”

He interrupts me, not hearing any of it. “Don’t worry. Stay here and wait for me.”

Before I can say anything else, he’s jumped out of the truck and is standing on the edge of the road, waiting for a gap in the traffic. I gasp when he runs across the first lane and then he’s forced to stop right in the middle of the two lanes, to wait for another break in the traffic. Cars continue to fly by him, blaring their horns. Ihold my breath as he makes another mad dash across the next lane and ends up about ten feet behind the dog. My hand clutches my phone, ready to dial 911 immediately if anything happens to him.

The shivering dog peers behind him warily and starts to belly-crawl farther away, obviously petrified of not only the cars and trucks whizzing by but also by the very large stranger creeping up behind him. Tor crouches to his knees and holds out his hand, offering treats, his lips moving. I know he’s talking softly to the dog, attempting to gain the tiniest amount of trust. Animals can always sense he’s a good person and they warm up to him quickly, but between the downpour and the traffic, the dog looks like it’s on the verge of mania.