Chapter 25 #3
The kitten promptly mewls, like it agrees, and stabs its tiny claws into my hand. Fuck, that stings.
I look down at it. Big, yellow-green eyes stare back at me. The rest is nothing but black fluff.
“I’ll try to find someone to take it,” I groan, looking toward the pallets. “What if I put it back? It must have a mother somewhere.”
“Don’t you dare,” Ria snaps. “The cat is yours now. You either keep it, or find it a good home. Don’t abandon it, it’s too small.”
I glare at her. “You take it,, then.”
“I have too many poisons in my home. And cats are too curious. It’d be dead in a day.” She lifts her chin, challenging me. “What? You too good to take care of a cat? Even when you’re gone, you’ve got a whole club of idiots to feed it and clean up its shit. Don’t be an asshole.”
“Fuck,” I mutter, turning around and walking off.
“Where are you going?” Ria calls, hurrying to keep up.
“I have to feed it something, don’t I?” I say, hissing when the kitten stabs me with its claws again.
I lose Ria somewhere on the way to the kitchen. She said something about getting a new room, wished me good luck with the kitten, and bolted.
I barely take a step through the kitchen door before I freeze.
Adora’s here. Fuck. Looking sexy as hell in sinfully short pajama shorts and a shirt that rides up just above her belly button.
Leaning against the counter, dipping a tea bag into a mug.
Hair wild and messy around her face, cheeks flushed.
A primal urge hits me like a tsunami — to march up to her, throw her over my shoulder, and lock her in my room.
She raises her head slowly. Her eyes land on me. She’s glaring like she knows exactly what I’m thinking.
Then her gaze drops lower, and the moment she spots the kitten, her eyebrows shoot up.
She sets her mug down, lips parting.
“Is that a cat?” she breathes, eyes locked on the fluffball.
The kitten looks at her and mewls, then stabs my hand again with those tiny claws. I hiss, caught off guard, and yank my hand back. It’s covered in tiny, angry scratches now.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “Found it hiding outside a few minutes ago. Ria made me take it.”
“Give it to me!” she nearly yells, launching forward and snatching the kitten from my arms.
She lifts it up, checks under its tail, then hugs it to her chest with a wide grin.
“It’s a boy! A little furry baby boy with little furry balls!” Then she looks up, glaring daggers. “He’s mine. You just found him. He’s mine now!”
I blink, hands raised in surrender.
“You can have him,” I say slowly. “But… Ria said she can’t keep him. Something about poisons in her place.”
“I don’t care. I’ll figure it out,” she snaps, voice high with excitement.
She turns toward the fridge and starts muttering, “He needs to eat.”
That little furry asshole didn’t scratch her once. Not even when she snatched him from me. Ria was wrong. I wasn’t chosen. I was just a mode of transportation for the Cat Distribution System she kept yapping about. I wasn’t the final destination.
“There’s some baloney in there. He looks old enough to eat that,” I offer.
She whirls around, eyes blazing.
“He’s not eating baloney. There’s leftover chicken breast. And steak,” she says, already digging through the fridge.
“Baloney,” she mutters again under her breath. “Who the hell feeds baloney to a cutie like this?”
I slump into a chair at the table, watching her. I… I don’t know what the fuck is happening. Why is she acting like this over a cat?
She pulls out a big piece of grilled chicken, lays it on the table with one hand, still holding the kitten with the other, and starts shredding it with a fork.
“Let me do that,” I say, taking the fork from her.
Surprisingly, she lets me without a word of protest.
She picks up small pieces of the shredded chicken and feeds them to the cat, still holding him. He slurps them down like it’s prime rib. Even lets out tiny growls while chewing.
I lean back in my chair and sigh. “If you’re keeping him, you’ll need a litter box.”
Her head snaps toward me, eyes narrowing to slits.
“If I keep him? I am keeping him,” she spits, voice laced with outrage.
“Okay,” I whisper, not sure how to deal with this whole situation. “Why are you getting so worked up over a cat?”
“I always wanted a pet,” she whispers, feeding the kitten another piece. “But I was never allowed to have one.”
“You never said anything,” I murmur.
She exhales softly. “Why would I have? I was your prisoner. We had an expiration date, even if we pushed past it.” She looks up at me, and there’s nothing in her eyes but sincerity.
“I might not have admitted it to myself back then, but my subconscious always knew. We were never endgame. Never real.”
I frown. “Your subconscious was wrong, adorable. We were always real. Even when we were apart.”
She groans, exasperated. “You honestly sound crazy, Ghost. Reality proved you wrong months ago.”
I lean forward, pissed off now. “And what actually is reality, Adora? You don’t know everything, do you? And you’re not ready to hear it. You’re making the same mistake I did.”
I stand, still looking at her. “I know my sins. I accept the blame. The responsibility. Take your vengeance, any way you want it. You deserve that. But…” I pause.
Lean closer. “…you are right about one thing. I am fucking crazy. Crazy about you. And it’s time I stop running from it.
I’m done staying away. Done disappearing.
Get ready, adorable. I’m coming for you. ”
Her eyes widen. Eyebrows lift. Lips part. She looks absolutely shocked.
“Are you really such a fucking asshole,” she snarls, “that you’d try to take control of my life again? Take my choices away?”
I smile, catching that fire in her eyes.
“I’m not taking anything from you. But I’m done hiding. And I’ll make sure you know exactly what I want, every step of the way. I’ll be fighting for my last chance. But in the end? It’ll be your choice. Only yours.”
Before she can start cursing me out, I turn and walk away.
“I’ll find you a temporary litter box,” I toss over my shoulder.
It’s my time to plot now.