Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 164838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
I was too exhausted for rational thought.
With how cloudy my mind was, I’d end up calling her Lori and screwing everything up.
Best go home, crash for a bit, and then possibly sneak into her garden as X and—
You’re not sneaking anywhere.
You’re not allowed to go anywhere near her.
Texting is all you’re allowed.
The softest meow wrenched my gaze to the gravel by my front wheel. The scruffiest orange kitten appeared, its whiskers bent and fur dull with mud.
With heartbreakingly bright green eyes, it looked up and screamed. Padding toward me, it wound its tiny body around my ankle. Its meows grew louder and more pitiful, begging as manically as it could.
Stealing my leg back, I ducked to my haunches and cupped its little head. Its fur was coarse and malnourished, his little skull terrifyingly fragile in my fingers.
Instead of running away petrified, the kitten tried to crawl into my hand. Its meows turned to caterwauls and every instinct inside me—every urge I’d had as a kid and the calling I had as a doctor—instantly reacted.
Scooping the skeletal cat from the car park, I cradled him in both hands. Holding him up to my nose, I inspected his little face.
He tried to headbutt my chin, wriggling and squirming to get closer.
“You’re definitely not afraid of me,” I said softly. “Where did you come from?”
He screamed in response, trying to get free, not to leap down but to crawl higher up my arm toward my neck.
Holding him tight, I looked over the sea of parked cars. Had someone brought a litter here to sell? Had he escaped? We had a pretty big rainstorm the other night. Perhaps he got flushed from somewhere?
A woman walked by, her car keys jingling.
“Excuse me?” I held out the kitten. “You didn’t happen to see anyone who this little guy could belong to, did you?”
The orange furball screamed again and tried to scramble up my arm.
She laughed. “I think he’s saying he belongs to you.” Scratching the top of his head, she winked. “Congratulations, you’re now a cat dad.”
Unlocking her car next to mine, she climbed in. With a quick wave, she drove away, leaving me standing with an unwanted patient.
I didn’t have time for a pet—even though I would’ve adored to have another soul in the house. Each time I felt lonely enough to contemplate getting an animal, I always reminded myself that it wasn’t fair with my long, erratic work hours.
The kitten stopped crying and pouted sadly as if hearing my thoughts and knowing he’d chosen the wrong pair of legs to beg at.
“It’s okay, little guy. I’ll help you. I just can’t keep you.”
He meowed and gave me sad little eyes.
“I’m not leaving you here, alright? You’re gonna be okay.”
His ears were a tad crusty, and his lack of body mass ensured I’d probably have to get some kitten formula.
Unlocking my car, I went to put him on the front seat but spotted Sailor and Lily in the distance. They carried a large plastic box between them. Lily said something, and Sailor managed to laugh.
Seeing Sailor responding to her friend eased the tightness of concern in my chest.
She’s okay.
She wasn’t alone and had someone she trusted.
She wasn’t better or completely healed, but she would be okay for a little while.
Which was good because right now, someone else needed my help.
Placing the little kitten on the leather seat, I closed the door and headed to the driver’s side. First, I’d take him to the nearest vet for a quick check-up, pop to the store to get supplies, and then head home.
And when does sleep come into this?
I yawned as I drove out of the car park, checking on Sailor in my rearview mirror.
Sleep would have to wait for a little longer.
* 21 *
Sailor
Pouncing Panic
I LAY IN THE DARK.
Arms crossed under my blankets.
Fingers pinching each arm hard enough to almost split the skin.
I couldn’t move.
Could hardly breathe.
The stress of the market and the effort it took to stay sane for Lily and smile for my customers had drained me to the point of despair.
But this wasn’t like the panic attack I’d had on the rug that first time.
This was far more stealthy. It’d waited until I’d had Thai takeout with Lily, put away all my merchandise, and bid her goodnight. It’d stalked me as I locked up, cleaned my teeth, and slipped into my bed on the floor of Nana’s old bedroom.
The wallpaper shimmered with misty lakes and silver cranes; the faintest paint smell lingered in the air. I’d read for a bit and fallen asleep, but then I’d heard a noise.
A noise like boots on the stairs and the corridor landing creaking.
And that was it.
The panic pounced.
My system saturated with adrenaline and anxiety.
Tears gushed against my control. My breathing turned ragged. And no matter how many times I told myself to calm down, I just couldn’t. Nothing worked. Nothing helped. The only thing stopping me from screaming into unconsciousness was my fingernails pinching each arm, giving me something to latch onto.