Chapter Eight – Luna
Chapter Eight
Luna
Nothing. No attention. No care. I wondered if the Master I served now knew that Jack was such an imbecile—or how hard pretending to truly serve him would be. I went into the bathroom and cleaned myself up—I was no longer interested in sex.
After that I opened closets until I found one with a few linens and made a bed atop his couch.
The room smelled like sex. I ought to open windows, but there weren’t any with screens in them—and Jack would definitely kill me if I lost his cat.
She was a tiny Siamese, and she came out to stare at me now, sitting and looking at me with accusatory eyes.
Why would anyone keep such a small fragile thing?
She whined a meow, I was sure it was a complaint.
“I don’t know you, and you don’t know me,” I told her, tucking myself in.
I woke up a few hours later, hungry and feeling sore—more from sleeping on the couch, than my acrobatics with the soccer players earlier. I knew Jack wouldn’t have an ibuprofen on hand—why would he?—or have any sympathy. I was on my own.
I surveyed both his countertop, with his wallet and keys out on it, and had an idea.