Part 13 (2/2)

”Motherf.u.c.ker!” I jump in shock as I'm attacked from behind. Even though I'm wearing thick socks, I still feel his needle-sharp teeth in my ankle and his claws firmly wrapped around my foot. ”Arrrrgggh! Get off me you psychotic feline freak!” I shriek.

With my kitten still attached to my foot, I lift it high and commence project shake it off. I shake gently at first, but he's holding on tight, his beady eyes all-pupil right now. That can't be good.

I shake harder and harder 'til I wobble on the spot. I lose my balance. I'm falling backward. My back hits the bathroom sink and I feel the breath leave my body in a whoosh. Throbbing pain blooms from my middle as I land onto the tiled floor with a bounce.

s.h.i.+t. That hurt! Lying on my bathroom floor with a kitten attached to my foot by its teeth and claws, I burst into tears. ”Jesus C, I sure as s.h.i.+t was wrong about you.”

As if feeling my pain, Tedwood appears by my face. If a cat could look concerned, he would. Still crying, I sniffle, ”You're a bad kitty.” He licks my nose, as if taunting me. Slamming my balled fists on the hard tiles, I lift my face and wail, ”Oh G.o.d, I f.u.c.king hate you.”

He climbs on top of me and sits on my chest.

Meow My body shakes in silent sobs. ”Why are you doing this to me? I just wanted to give you a nice home. And you looked cute, like a normal cat that does normal cat things. I didn't know you were mental.” I look up at him and plead, ”Please stop trying to kill me!”

Over the last twelve hours, Tedwood has quote accidentally unquote knocked over a candle and set part of my bed on fire, chewed open live wires, which I have almost touched with my bare hands, and has hidden in every spot possible, attacking me whenever I least expect it. I have a theory. Don't quote me on it, but...

I think my cat is the devil.

I'm not an expert on the matter, and I will consult with a veterinarian, but I don't think it's normal for a cat to try to a.s.sa.s.sinate its owner. Repeatedly. I close my eyes and cry as I wait for my back to stop aching, but it's futile. It'll be aching all day. It's bruised. I know it. A little rough tongue licks my nose. I push him away gently. ”Dude, stop licking my boogers.”

He purrs and rubs his head against my chin. I still and ask hopefully, ”So, we're friends now? No more funny business, right?” He settles in the crevice between my neck and chin, purring all the while, and I sigh in relief. ”Thank you, Lord.” Okay. If he's cute like this most of the time, I won't have to find a new home for him.

Reaching up, I pat his little back. His purr deepens. I lie back, savoring the sweet-kitty side of Tedwood I know won't last. ”This is the calm before the storm, isn't it?” I ask him. His back arches and he hisses in response.

Yep. That's what I thought.

Helena As I walk down the block to work, I call Nat. She answers on the first ring. ”Sup, dawg?”

Sounding more like a junkie than intended, I whine, ”I need you to hook me up. I need a fix, and I need it soon.”

Silence, then, ”And what will you do for me?”

I think hard. I shrug, even though she can't see it. ”I don't know. I'll cook for you.”

She scoffs. ”b.i.t.c.h, please. I cook better than you do.”

d.a.m.n. She doesn't lie. I'm getting desperate. I all but shout into the cell, ”I'll do anything! What do you want?”

She grumbles into the phone and I know she's thinking. After a moment's thought, she answers, ”Clean my place.”

I blink. Is she f.u.c.king serious? I am n.o.body's maid! I respond louder than expected, ”f.u.c.k you, b.i.t.c.h!” The man walking next to me glares at me. I cover the bottom-half of the cell and mutter, ”Oh, don't worry. It's just my sister.” I didn't realize it was possible, but he actually looks more disgusted as he walks away. Offended at his misplaced revulsion, I call out to him, ”Well, f.u.c.k you too!”

Nat chuckles. ”Ah, New York.” Then she bursts into song, ”It's a h.e.l.l of a toe into contact with j.i.z.z before. Since when are you a prude?”

Since college.

I laugh humorlessly. ”I am not a prude. Never was.”

She returns with, ”When's the last time you got laid?”

July 4th, 2010. It was a Sunday. The weather was superb; the sun shone all day long. ”I don't know the exact date!”

”If you're talking the date, it was longer than a year ago.”

My nose bunches. ”You're way off.”

She lets out a sound of exasperation. ”Okay, whatever, you don't have to clean the whole place, just the bathroom.”

”Yeah, I'm hanging up now.”

My finger is just about to hit the end b.u.t.ton, when she sighs. ”Fine. You get a free pa.s.s. This time. I'll send you the details.”

Happiness fills me, warming me. I smile brightly. ”You're amazing. A G.o.ddess. I love you like a siste-”

Beep. I check the display. And scowl. b.i.t.c.h hung up on me. My phone beeps. It's a text from Nat. I almost squeal in delight. It's the address to Icing on the Cake Bakery, and it isn't far from my work. Using the internet map on my phone, I can see it's four blocks away from me. And five blocks in the opposite direction is Safira and The White Rabbit. Not exactly around the corner, but not far either.

I need a car. As soon as I make some money, that's the first thing on my to-buy list. Just as I approach the block my work is on, I shoot out a quick text.

Me: I hate you.

A few seconds pa.s.s before I get a reply.

Nina: Hate you more, t.u.r.d. x I walk into work smiling, knowing today will be a good day.

Helena James leads me into a large room filled with workout equipment. He waves out a hand. ”You've probably seen most of this stuff before, but if you see anything unfamiliar, let me know and we'll go over what it is and how it's used.”

After a quick scan of the equipment, I shake my head. ”I've used it all before, but if I see anything that looks new to me, I'll tell ya.”

He claps his hands together and smiles. ”Great! This is great. You're the easiest person I've had to train. I feel like it should be harder than this, but you're making it too easy for me.”

I'm mock an apologetic, ”Sorry.”

Laughing, he shakes his head at me. ”I've never met a small girl with so much att.i.tude before.”

I walk over to him and playfully push him away. ”It's not att.i.tude. It's s.p.u.n.k.”

He nods in agreement. ”Yeah. Your pep.”

I laugh at his choice of word. ”You could even say I have moxie.”

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