Chapter 17 – Sydney
SYDNEY
Overnight, the weather shifts. When I drag myself out of bed, the usually bright Fortune City sky is dark, full of black and gray storm clouds thick enough to blot out the sun.
You can feel it in the air, that current of electricity that precedes a storm.
It doesn’t rain often here, but when it does, it’s torrential.
Months’ worth of water pouring from the sky in just a few hours.
By the time I’m ready to leave for work, the first raindrops have just started to fall. I close my door, frowning up at the clouds, and estimate I have maybe a minute to get downstairs before the sky really opens up and this drizzle becomes a downpour.
The soft click of another door closing draws my attention, and I pause, keys still in hand, peering down the walkway at the empty apartment next to mine.
Someone’s in there, I realize, taking a step closer. I can hear the shuffling sounds of someone moving inside, just beyond the door.
Has someone moved in? No, I’d have seen moving boxes, wouldn’t I? Maybe it’s whoever Sebastian hired, coming to install the new security system. But why would they be next door? Why would they need to—
The new owners.
I let out a shaky breath and nearly laugh in relief. Of course. I’d almost forgotten about the building being sold. No one has reached out to us yet with the new lease agreement, but it would make sense, wouldn’t it? They’re inspecting the empty unit, probably getting it ready to rent.
I’ve enjoyed not having neighbors, but maybe it won’t be such a bad thing to have someone living next door. There’s a certain safety in it, in having someone so close by.
I listen to the sounds on the other side of the wall for a moment, unable to tear myself away.
I should introduce myself, maybe bring them something later, if they’re still here.
A batch of Jade’s cookies, maybe. She makes the greatest, most delicious chocolate chip cookies the world has ever known, topped with a sprinkle of sea salt, and made with fair-trade dark chocolate chunks.
Everyone deserves to taste them at least once in their lifetime.
And who knows? Maybe a delicious treat might convince them not to raise our rent by too much…
Thunder rolls in the distance, pushing away all my thoughts of chocolate cookies and new neighbors. A fat drop of rain hits the walkway next to my feet. And then another.
“Crap, crap, crap,” I mutter, bolting down the stairs.
By the time I reach the street, the drizzle has turned into an all-out downpour, and I barely make it inside the shop without getting completely soaked.
There’s no sign of Viper outside the shop, skulking around the alley today.
I don’t blame him. Who would want to be outside in this weather?
But he isn’t inside the shop either, I notice, after I sprint inside.
I’m not sure how I know that, but I just…
do. There’s a tension between my shoulder blades, a fear that wasn’t there before.
I’m comforted by knowing he’s nearby, I realize.
Because he’s the scariest thing out there, that dark voice inside me says. And he’s claimed you as his. He wants you. He won’t let anyone else have you, won’t let them hurt you.
No one but him.
Shut up, shut up, shut up. I shake the rain from my hair, pushing those thoughts away.
Business is slow throughout the day. The weather isn’t exactly welcoming, and the sheets of rain coming down keep foot traffic to a minimum.
A few determined customers wander in for coffee and a pastry, but the shop feels empty and far too quiet without our usual crowd of customers.
I let Justin cover the back register and take care of replenishing the shelves while I hover near the café, helping Jade bus tables and take orders.
When traffic to the café hits an even worse lull, I do my best to distract myself with all the little chores around the shop that need finishing.
A stack of empty cardboard boxes from this week’s deliveries needs to be taken out to the recycling, and I drag them from the stockroom toward the side exit, struggling to wrangle them all.
But something stops me as I’m about to step outside into the alley.
The narrow alley between our building and the next has always been dark and creepy, but the storm makes it even worse. Rain sluices down the sides of the buildings and pools on the concrete, thunder rumbling in the distance, but it’s not the weather that makes me pause, one foot out the door.
Something is wrong.
A chill runs down my spine. I feel like someone is watching me, waiting for me. And there’s a noise, barely discernible over the sounds of the storm. A rustling so faint it’s almost inaudible, coming from the bins. Too deliberate to be just the rain.
Two months ago, I would have told myself it was nothing. Forced myself to laugh it off, convinced myself it was my anxieties getting the best of me, making me paranoid. But now? I glance down the dark alley and feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
Now, I’m learning to trust my intuition. And if my instincts are telling me something is wrong…
I take a step back into the safety of my shop and let the door close.
Backup. I need backup.
Justin is kneeling in front of one of our endcap displays, arranging some new titles, when I find him. He has an eye for this part of the business, setting up the display almost exactly the way I would. I walk up behind him and clear my throat nervously.
“Hey,” I murmur, wringing my hands. He glances up, giving me his full attention. “Can you do me a favor? I think I heard something out in the alley when I was taking out the recycling. Probably nothing, but could you go check?”
“You’re right, it is probably nothing,” he says, turning back to his work.
A spark of irritation flares to life inside me at being dismissed so easily, but before I can defend myself, he finishes placing the last book and stands, dusting his hands over his jeans.
“But I’m glad you came to get me. If something feels off, then we should check it out. ”
“Oh,” I say, stunned at his quick support. “Uh. Yeah, thanks. Oh! I left some boxes by the doors, if you could—”
“I’ll grab them!” He shoots me an easy grin as he walks off, heading toward the exit.
Huh. I guess I shouldn’t be so shocked, but it’s nice to feel like someone takes my worries seriously.
I drift back to the café where Jade is reorganizing our mugs, clearly starved for things to do.
“I may have just sent your brother to a grisly death,” I tell her when I reach the counter. I lean my back against it, frowning at the side exit that leads into the alley. Maybe I should have gone with him? “Sorry about that.”
“Well, at least if he’s dead, he won’t be crashing on my couch anymore,” Jade answers breezily.
“True,” I admit. I glance over my shoulder at her. “Plus, imagine the attention you’ll get now that you’re an only child. And double Christmas gifts!”
Jade laughs just as the door opens, and Justin calls out, “Uh…guys?”
We both turn. He’s standing in the doorway, dripping, soaked from just a few seconds out in the storm. His dark hair is plastered flat to his face, his shirt clinging to his body. And he’s cradling something against his chest, hiding it, as he makes his way through the café toward us.
“Was there someone out there?” I ask, pulse skipping.
“Maybe.” His brows knit as he steps closer. “I thought I saw someone, for just a second. But then I heard something digging around under the trash, and…” He adjusts his hands, to show us what he’s holding.
A kitten. A dirty, sopping-wet gray kitten, cradled against his chest, with bright yellow eyes too big for its face.
It peers around the café from over Justin’s fingers, ears flat, and when it sees me, it lets out the smallest, most miserable mewl, showing a flash of pink tongue and tiny needle teeth.
“Ohhh!” Jade squeals, melting into a puddle. “It’s a baby!”
“I checked around, in case there were any more or the mother was nearby, but…” Justin trails off, shaking his head. “I think he’s all alone.”
The kitten blinks at us, shivering in his arms. And despite the mud and the bedraggled fur, it’s easily the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.
“Oh my God,” Jade whispers, clutching at my arm and shaking me. “It’s too cute, I can’t take it. I’m gonna die.”
“It’s filthy,” Justin murmurs, stroking a thumb gently down the cat’s spine. “Probably starving. Do you two mind cleaning him up while I run and get supplies?”
“Of course!” Jade exclaims at the same time I mutter, “I don’t know…”
Jade shoots me a scandalized look.
“I just don’t think you should get attached,” I try to explain. “Your apartment doesn’t allow pets, remember?”
I’ve caught her scrolling shelter pages more times than I can count, pining over all the animals she can’t have. This is a guaranteed heartbreak waiting to happen.
“But your place does,” Jade quickly counters. She’s right, and I’m ashamed to say it hadn’t even occurred to me that I could take in a kitten. I’ve never had a pet before. “And besides, just because we’re cleaning him up doesn’t mean we’re keeping him!”
“Actually, I think it’s a her,” Justin says, lifting the cat’s tail to check. The kitten hisses and bats at him with a small paw, flashing sharp white claws and tiny pink toes. “Sorry, ma’am,” he murmurs, letting her tail go.
I chew my lip. “Fine. We’ll clean her up, feed her, and then take her to a shelter. But we can’t keep her.”
The look of glee Justin and Jade share makes my stomach drop. Conspirators. I’m surrounded by conspirators.
“We can’t keep her,” I repeat, louder.
We’re keeping her.
While Justin runs to the closest pet store for supplies and Jade watches the store, I take my brand-new kitten into our staff bathroom and give her a bath in the sink.
All it takes is some patience, a few dozen bloody scratches to my arms, and a little dish soap to reveal that her fur isn’t gray at all.
By the end of her bath, I’m left holding a grumpy and very fluffy, pristine white kitten.
A pristine white kitten with a strong set of lungs.
“MEOW!”
“I think she’s hungry,” Jade says. The kitten squirms in my grasp, fur wet and spiky from her bath, half wrapped in a towel. The world’s grumpiest burrito. She yowls again, even louder this time, throwing back her tiny head to scream her fury to the world.
Jade finishes pouring a drink for a customer and pulls out a hard-boiled egg from the fridge. I watch her cut it into bite-sized pieces before scooping it into a saucer.
“Here you go, baby,” she coos, setting the saucer on the ground. The kitten nearly claws the towel to shreds in her rush to get out of my hands and down to the food.
“I don’t know, Jade, can she eat that?” I ask, setting her on the ground. But apparently the she in question thinks the answer is yes. She attacks the bits of egg with an aggression that can only be described as terrifying.
Frowning, I pull out my phone and quickly search: Can kittens have egg?
“Kittens can have a little hard-boiled egg,” the first article informs me. “As a treat.”
Fine. A piece of yolk falls over the side of the dish, and the kitten quickly laps it up straight off the floor. “This is just a treat,” I inform her. “Do not get used to it.”
She ignores me.
By the time Justin returns—arms overloaded with shopping bags—the egg is gone, and the kitten has fallen fast asleep on the belly of the two-foot-tall stuffed bee Ashton gifted me.
I’d completely forgotten about shoving the damn thing behind the bakery counter until she pulled it out with her teeth and decided it was a perfectly acceptable bed.
“Don’t worry, I got her a real cat bed for the stockroom,” Justin assures me, unloading the bags on the café floor next to me. It looks like he bought half the store. “And another one for your place upstairs.” He pauses, glancing at me sheepishly. “Just until we find her a forever home, of course.”
I sigh, staring at the kitten. She’s condensed herself into a tiny ball of fur, paws tucked against her belly, happily napping on Ashton’s bee. When I reach out to stroke her between her ears, she purrs and rubs against my fingers. Who am I kidding? I’m never giving her up.
“And I got some different types of food. The woman at the store said we should mix water into it in case she’s dehydrated. Speaking of! I also picked up a cat fountain.”
“What’s a cat fountain?” I ask.
“Cats like flowing water,” Justin explains.
“At least, that’s what the woman told me.
So it’s best to give them a water source where the water is constantly flowing.
This one looks like a little koi pond, and it’s got fish painted on the bottom.
Oh! I also grabbed some toys!” His grin is boyish, excited.
The kitten opens one yellow eye, ears perking up as he starts pulling out toys for her. He’s already removed the tags and plastic, I notice. Baby proofed. “Since we don’t know what she’ll like, I got a variety and—”
The moment he pulls a small plush bee from the bag, the kitten sits upright, both eyes fixed. It looks like a miniature version of the one she’s sleeping on right now.
“Oh, you like that, do you?” Justin wiggles it at her. There’s a bell inside, jingling as he shakes it. “Is this a good one? A good toy?”
She trills in answer, making biscuits with her front paws. When he sets the toy down on the ground, we both move back a little to give her room to jump down and play.
She doesn’t. After she navigates her way off the giant bee, she steps forward, moving on the tips of her paws like a dancer. She gives the toy a single light bop with her paw and then picks it up in her mouth.
A loud purr erupts from her chest.
“Don’t you want to play with it?” Justin reaches out as if to take it from her, but the kitten scampers back, her purr morphing into a growl, back arching.
“You like bees, huh?” I muse. “Maybe we’ll call you Beatrice. Bea for short.”
“That’s so corny,” Justin groans. “Bea? Really?”
But the kitten purrs louder, falling onto her side with the bee still clamped in her mouth, and rolling onto her back.
“Okay, fine.” Justin raises his hands in defeat. “Beatrice, it is.”
“Hey, Justin?” I dig through one of the bags, frowning. “Did you only get toys and food?”
“Yeah? What else was I supposed to get?”
I give him a look. “A litter box, maybe?”
Justin freezes. “Crap. I’ll be right back!”
It takes him two more trips to get everything we need, but by the time he clocks out for the day, Bea has everything a kitten could ever dream of.