Chapter 7 #2
My thumb scrolled through past messages before closing the app.
It wasn’t smart to answer her there, not when it risked them seeing activity on my profile.
Instead, I pulled out a clean postcard from my sack and the wooden stamp of a rat I carved from a chunk of wood at my cabin.
I used it as my trademark. On the web app, my screen name was TheRatMan because of my vendetta against the mafia and my past affiliation.
A little on the nose? Yes. But I liked the irony.
With a marker, I wrote: “I’m here, Buttercup. What do you need?”
I loaded the makeshift stamp with ink from an inkpad and crudely stamped the card with my logo.
She knew this logo… hated it, in fact. I’d taunted her with notes on her pillow before, and it was the most delicious fun hearing her grumble and scream in protest. I had a feeling this time, however, she’d be relieved to see it.
I fanned the postcard a few times until the ink dried, then got up, scooping the little kitten up with me and placing him on my shoulder.
He made himself right at home on the broad expanse of natural muscle I’d built from chopping wood and building my Canadian homestead.
The kitten had ample space on my back to get comfortable.
From the rucksack, I snaked out a long length of climbing rope, adding a few knots every foot or so to add traction. The skylight opening dropped ten feet to the top landing of the spiral stairs between her office and bedroom, so I’d only need the rope for the trip back up.
Snaking it around a pipe, I secured the rope.
When my thumb found the latch and flipped it open, I threw the rope down.
I braced my arms on the solid part of the frame and lowered through the opening before dropping in completely.
I was silent, able to control my movements so well that I could practically hold my body horizontal like a flag on a pole if I wanted to.
Moonlighting as a male pole-dancer was always an option if money got tight.
When the cat and I touched down, I was proud of my little feline companion for making it the entire way without protest. He was so slight; it was easy for his tiny body to hold on with his oversized paws.
I didn’t mind the nails that dug in through my thermal-sleeved shirt.
Pain was a friend of mine. My back was already a roadmap of scars anyway.
We made our way down the spiral stairs, not in any hurry since Betty would be gone all day.
The room’s scent hit me, the sweet, musky rose and vanilla smell that was distinctly hers.
I let it permeate my lungs with a flashback to the night I knew everything changed for me—the night I fell hopelessly in love with Betty.
She was more than I imagined she would be in person, even more beautiful than she was on camera stealing the Rembrandt from my uncle’s office. She moved like vapor and spoke to me in shadows and dreams.
I rounded her nearly empty bed in the middle of the room. Mr. Beans was curled into a ball in a nest of blankets. He hadn’t noticed us yet—I was surprised—but as the kitten mewed at the sight of him, Mr. Beans shot up onto his toes, immediately hissing.
“Oh, calm down, grumpy asshole,” I said. I had to pry the kitten off my back, one nail at a time. Cradling the tiny thing entirely in one hand, I blooped Mr. Beans on the nose before lowering the kitten closer so they could smell each other. Inch by inch, we drew near.
I was nervous that Mr. Beans might reject the kitten and put an end to my hopes of a friendship between the two.
To my surprise, Mr. Beans calmed quickly, nosing forward to brush whiskers with the kitten.
I set the kitten down, and Mr. Beans immediately circled him before clamping a mouth down on the back of the kitten’s neck.
“Mr. Beans, no,” I scolded.
As I reached toward him, however, Mr. Beans let out a low growl before pulling the kitten away from me and placing him in his nest of blankets. He released the kitten’s neck and began grooming him instead.
“Okay, fine then. You keep him.” I’d been dismissed.
The kitten was purring, eyes closing at the feel of the grooming session. I guess where I hadn’t brought Betty flowers, a kitten was as good as anything. It was a satisfactory apology for leaving her this long.
With my hands in my pockets, I spent a little time perusing the shelves in her room before turning on the hot water in the shower and taking the liberty of cleaning up after the long journey.
After that, I went down to her fridge and put together a sandwich.
At one point, while sitting at the island eating, Mr. Beans entered the room, the little black kitten in his wake like a dutiful soldier, trying to catch Mr. Beans’ fluffy tail.
I finished the sandwich and washed my plate, drying it before placing it back in the cabinet.
Rummaging through her fridge again, I found a beer and tucked it into my pocket for later.
There were also some fudge cookies in her pantry, and I stole a few of those as well, munching them down before returning to the top floor.
Entering Betty’s closet, I searched the shelves for a strip of ribbon or something I could use to tie a bow around the kitten’s neck. My eye caught sight of a basket filled with colorful, lacy things. A bright red thong stood out on top, delighting me.
Hooking a finger into the delicate band, my knees buckled at the sight of it. It was sheer and soft, just a whisper of fabric. Unable to resist, I brought the fabric to my nose; it smelled faintly of her. This was the perfect solution. Just the thing to get her attention.
Mr. Beans was following me, and sure enough, the kitten was also hiding under the hanging garments and swatting at hemlines.
I grabbed him out with one hand and sat him in my lap, tying the thong around his neck and doing my best to make a gift bow of it.
It was a little haphazard, but conveyed the message.
For good measure, I plucked a black pair of panties from the basket and stuffed them in my pocket with the beer before leaving her closet.
She wouldn’t miss them. I took the spiral stairs two at a time.
The cats barreled after me like some sort of game.
My hand found the knotted rope, and I hoisted myself out through the skylight.
When I latched it behind me, the two cats were watching from below, looking sad that I’d left.
I put a finger to my lips as though to swear them to secrecy. I was excited to see the look on Betty’s face when she saw them together. Even more excited now that I’d added the tied bow around his neck. She would know it was me, and I couldn’t wait to see that reaction.