Chapter 17
ROSE
Iwas fast asleep when a sudden cry pulled me out of my slumber. It took me a few seconds to open my eyes, but I heard Dom yelling at somebody.
When I dragged my eyelids apart, I saw Sweetpea sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at Dom with something like triumph in his gaze.
“What’s wrong?” I murmured.
“Your devil cat just brought me a present,” he seethed. “A rat’s head.”
“What?”
I scrambled upright and pulled the covers over my chest before I put on my glasses to inspect the object that was now lying on the carpet.
“Eww! Sweetpea! Why would you do that? We’ll have to burn these sheets now,” I scolded him when I saw traces of blood and slime on Dom’s side of the bed.
“I’ll need to burn my skin off as well, because the little monster dropped the head on my chest,” complained Dom, grabbing wet wipes from the box on his stand and scrubbing at his chest vigorously.
I got out of bed and used a few wipes to pick up the head. I wrapped it into a neat parcel before I threw on a robe and left the room to get rid of it. Sweetpea was lying in the spot I’d vacated, looking completely unrepentant.
“I’m so sorry, Dom. He’s never done such a thing before,” I said miserably.
“He was just getting back at me for shutting him out of the study last night,” said Dom, with a sigh.
“Let’s leave him here and go sleep in my room,” I suggested.
“I don’t think I can sleep now,” he muttered, and I kinda agreed with him.
I couldn’t sleep, knowing my cat had turned into an ax murderer.
“Where did he even find such a large rat? Dom,” I gasped. “Do you have rats in the house?”
“Of course, not! There are no rats anywhere in the building,” he replied, sounding outraged at the suggestion of a rodent infestation in this very posh building. “He must have gone out to hunt for it. But Rose, how the heck did your cat get out of the apartment? The windows are all shut at night.”
We got out of bed, and Dom turned on the coffee machine as I mulled over Sweetpea’s actions. Meanwhile, Sweetpea strolled around the house as if he owned it.
“Dom,” I yelped as a thought struck me. “If he only brought you the head, where’s the rest of the rat?”
“I dunno! Buried under a pile of other headless rats? I don’t know what this little psychopath does with the evidence of his crimes,” he replied wearily.
“Don’t call him that,” I snapped.
“Why not? Rosie, it’s time to accept that your little darling is a monster. He needs help,” I said patiently, but she shook her head.
“He’s just a cat. This is what all cats do. Hunting mice is their evolutionary role, Dom.”
“Okay, first of all, that was not a mouse. That looked like a mutated rat hybrid from an illegal science lab down in Cali, which could grow a whole new metal body any minute. And secondly, while hunting might be second nature to cats, it isn’t normal for them to throw rat heads at their enemies.
That shows premeditation. Your cat is a criminal,” I accused, flinching in fear when the said criminal walked too close to my ankles.
“Well, well, well…what have we here?” asked Trevor, showing up too late like a cop in a crime movie.
“We have the evidence of a crime,” insisted Dominic, to my irritation.
“You’re making a big deal out of nothing,” I said with a sigh.
“Trevor, I want to know how that feline went in and out of the building. And check to see if we have rats anywhere on the premises,” he ordered.
They left to speak to the building’s doorman, and I glared at Sweetpea, who stared back at me and blinked slowly in the universal gesture of love in cats.
“Aww, I love you too, you little monster. Are you proud of yourself for scaring everyone to death?” I asked, as I bent to pick him up and give him a little cuddle. “I wonder what the doorman told them.”