Second chance for the Mafia prince (January and Gulliver) novel Chapter 2

Four hours later, she and Kaylee were pulling up to the place where the sanctuary directed her while Kaylee sobbed continuously over the barely breathing thing in the box on her lap.

“Mom, he’s going to die.”

“Maybe they can fix him?”

Original composition by Tatienne Richard exclusively for My Fiction. If you’re reading this elsewhere it has been stolen from the platform.

“Nana threw him like a lacrosse ball with the broom.” She accused her grandmother who refused to accompany them. The child’s face was mottled, streaked with snot and tears and her bottom lip was still trembling.

“Nana was only trying to protect us from possible rabies.” January didn’t dare not defend her mother or she was sure the broom which threw the skunk might be connecting with her own backside.

They got out of the car and immediately January gulped big deep breaths of fresh air as her lungs felt polluted with what she could only describe as burning rubber, wrapped in cannabis and melted in a pot of rotten eggs.

A woman was coming out of the building and drew up short a few feet away making wide eyes. “You said he sprayed, you weren’t kidding.”

“No. I wasn’t.” she looked at Kaylee, encouraging her to put the box down. “We could put the box down, back away from the driveway and take our odor home and leave him to you?”

“No Mom! I love him. He’s scared and he’s hurt and if he’s going to die he needs someone to hold his hand.”

January looked at the sky and wondered why she was being punished as thoroughly as she was. The refuge worker made wide eyes at January and then gave a shake of her head.

“Well, we have a visiting veterinarian here today. We were doing some fundraising recently and we did an auction, and his services were put up and one of the girls bid on him and won. He came and brought along one of his friends who has deep pockets to help.”

“He really smells,” January apologized to the woman.

“It’s happened a few times,” she shrugged but January noted she didn’t make any effort to collect the box from Kaylee and they were bringing them around the back way.

A few minutes later they were in a care room while Kaylee was patting the barely breathing thing in a box sniffling sadly while January continued rubbing her daughter’s back with as much comfort as she could.

“Hi!” a man pushed into the room with a cheery disposition. His eyes were a warm brown, his hair a tousled mess and then his wide smile fell off as the smell hit him square in the face. “Oh, what do we have here?”

“My daughter rescued a skunk from our woodpile. It apparently is injured.”

“And then my nana flung him across the porch and out of the kitchen,” Kaylee sobbed as she patted it pitifully. “Poor Henry.”

“Henry huh?” the doctor leaned over the box and wound stethoscope around his neck as he struggled not to gag. “He’s pungent isn’t he?”

“Does pungent mean dying?” Kaylee huffed a shaky sob into her lungs.

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