Chapter 18 #3
Milo gives me a calculating up-and-down stare. It makes me feel a little squeamish. “You don’t seem like a loser at all. But I think a cat could be good for you.”
Then he starts creeping toward me. Literally. He’s on his toes, and his hands are out, and for a wild, unhinged second, I think he’s going for my neck.
Now the latex gloves make sense. Maybe there’s a body in the back room. Maybe he was chopping it up.
Oh god, don’t let this be the way I die. I don’t want Rome to find me on the floor of a cat-café-owning serial killer’s house, half eaten by his feral pets.
But before I can even blink, before I can breathe, Milo snatches Dennis up and places him in a football hold, Dennis’s face shoved into his armpit.
Milo catches me staring, and he shrugs. “Most cats, even angry ones, will chill out if you grab them like this.”
To his credit, Dennis is a limp rag doll in his arms.
Milo assesses him for a second, then walks over to the little shelf where he’s set the cat crate and shoves Dennis inside, slamming the door.
The yowling starts immediately, but Milo ignores him as he walks over to the little desk in the corner of the room and pulls something out from the bottom drawer.
It’s a tote bag that’s stuffed full to the brim.
“Aww. Is he getting adopted?”
Milo blinks up at me, looking confused. “Uh. Yes?”
“That’s sweet.”
Milo nods, then grabs something off the shelf behind him. One of those cheap plastic litter boxes. He sets it on top of the carrier and tosses the bag inside of it, then grabs a card off the desk and walks up to me.
“Here. You can pay the adoption fee online when you get home. And when you do, fill out all of your info so I can update the microchip information.”
I take the card out of sheer confusion. “Um.”
“Oh, and if you change his name, also add that. But I think he likes Dennis.” He picks up the carrier, walks over, and thrusts it at me.
Just for fear of him dropping the cat on the floor, I take it. “Wait…”
“There’s also a coupon code in the back for two hundred bucks off an automatic litter box and feeder bundle.”
“Hold on…”
“We don’t have any contracts with vet clinics here. I’m still working on that, but—”
“I can’t take this cat!”
Milo freezes and blinks up at me. His eyes are round saucers, and I can tell he probably gets away with a lot when he looks like this. “What do you mean?”
Dennis is still yowling, but he presses his face up against the bars of the carrier, his one eye staring at me.
Fuck.
“I thought it might be better to adopt a kitten,” I say weakly.
Milo sighs. “Most people think that. And I get it. They’re cute.
But then they turn into cats, and you never know what kind of personality your adult cat will have.
Kittens cuddle because they’re babies. But you might end up with some raging asshole adult cat who bites your ankles every time you walk by. At least with Dennis, you know.”
I look down at him in the carrier. He’s stopped yelling for the moment.
“I guess that’s true.”
Milo’s voice drops. “Adopting out these cats is hard. No one wants them. They usually get picked up by Animal Control and put down after the waiting period because they know people would rather have kittens.”
Jesus Christ, this man could bottle and sell his ability to guilt-trip.
“Deaf and disabled cats have it even worse. Sometimes they don’t even make it past the waiting period.”
The idea of deaf cats being rounded up and put to sleep gets me like a knife to the gut. Damn it! Damn him.
“Is this how Fuzzeroli got adopted?”
Milo smiles, and he most definitely doesn’t look innocent now. “He took to a person who came in for the grand opening.”
I make a mental note to tell all my friends that if they value their pet-free homes, they should never, ever come here. I swallow heavily. “Rome is going to hate me.”
“Your…person?” Milo says, like he’s testing that last word.
“Mm. Friend with benefits, I guess you could say.” I don’t know why I’m explaining that to him.
“Well, he’s Deaf too. They’ll bond.”
“Dennis bit him.”
Milo looks deranged and happy. “Yeah. He did. Feel free to call me if you need help with anything, and for the love of god, do not take him to another shelter if you can’t take care of him. Do you understand?”
I look up at Milo. His tone is terrifying. Like he may murder me if he finds out I did that.
“Bring him back to me. Or I will come for you.”
I swallow heavily. “Right. Yep. Got it.”
His face softens back into his little cherub expression. “Have fun with him. Send me pics!”
Then I’m unceremoniously shoved out the door, and it closes behind me. I have no idea what to do as I stand in the lobby with Dennis in my arms—yowling again because of course he is.
Percy’s behind the register, and he sighs. “Claimed another victim, I see.”
I blink over at him. “Your brother is terrifying.”
Percy’s eyes glint. “You have no idea. Anyway, go put the cat in your car and come back for your free box of litter. Also, we have bulk litter refills, so make sure you get it from us. It’s cheaper.”
That also feels weirdly like a threat. I make another mental note that these guys are…well, they’ve been nothing but nice, but they’re also people we might want to keep an eye on.
I stare down at Dennis, and he looks up at me, his little fang still poking out of his lip. ‘Ready to go home?’ I sign.
He blinks, then opens his mouth and starts screaming again.