Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 72822 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72822 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Wading in up to my thighs—thank God I’d worn shorts today—I reached for the blue canvas bag and drug it toward me.
And that’s when I saw that the bag was moving.
Motherfucking moving.
I pulled it with me to the bank, then walked a few more yards before setting the bag down.
There, I crouched and unzipped the bag.
At first, I wasn’t sure what it was. The inside of the bag was wet, saturating the animal that lay inside.
At first, I thought it was a ferret because of its long gray body, but then I saw the paws, and instantly realized it was a cat.
Then I saw the kitty’s face and realized rather quickly that something was wrong with the poor little creature.
He didn’t look like he had a nose. The holes were there, but the ridge and tilt that usually signaled a cat’s nose were missing. His eyes were a little too far apart, and I didn’t know if it was due to his lack of nose, or if they actually were far apart.
Whatever he was, the poor thing was soaked, scared, and shivering.
“You poor little thing,” I cooed, pulling him out and placing his wet body against my chest.
The kitten gave a pitiful mewl and burrowed closer.
An hour later, I texted a picture of the little guy to Dante, instantly getting a response.
Dante (11:33 am): what made you go get the bag??
Me (11:34 am): It might’ve been due to the particular bag that he’d tossed in that gave it away.
Hell, it also might’ve been due to the face that he’d tossed it by getting out instead of straight out the window—which I knew he could’ve accomplished. I didn’t know. I was just glad he didn’t drown. I felt so bad. He’s still shaking. But look at his fur! It’s curly.
Dante (11:35 am): it’s cute. Mary says “mine.” Lol.
I grinned but placed the cat in a box in my passenger seat.
After stopping at the dollar store for kitten food and a litter box, I drove home.
Once I had him settled and sitting comfortably in my lap, I then started my paperwork that my job needed for me to start work in another week.
Six weeks was perfectly sufficient after having surgery…wasn’t it?
***
Paperwork done, and my new little kitty with a full belly lazing in the sunshine of my porch, I started to clean up the weeds in my flowerbeds.
I was so immersed in what I was doing that I didn’t hear the truck pull up at my curb and shut off.
Then again, that was fairly normal. I lived on a somewhat busy street, and cars came up and down this road all day long, twenty-four seven.
Just down the road was a bar, and there were times that I heard music blaring until all hours of the morning.
But that didn’t bother me much. I knew when I moved here that it was always like that. It had been when I was growing up, too.
That was one of the things about living downtown in the historical district. The nightlife was always around, celebrating something or other.
I ripped another weed out just as I heard someone’s voice behind me.
“You have a cat.”
I looked over to see Drake standing on the path that led up to my house. I’d been airing out the place since I hadn’t been there in over two weeks. Old places like mine—my grandfather’s—had a way of doing that, though.
If old places like mine weren’t lived in, then they started to smell musty. At least that’s the way I felt.
The cat had drifted out, drawn to the sunshine, and I’d allowed it. He wasn’t hurting anything.
I stiffened and turned to find Drake there, his hands in his pockets.
“Yeah.”
“It’s fucking ugly.”
I don’t know what made me so mad about hearing those words, but after hearing similar words in regard to him speaking about Mary, I was suddenly very mad.
“I think he’s adorable,” I snapped.
Drake’s eyebrows rose. “You’re mad.”
I crossed my arms. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here because you kicked me out of my house.”
I had.
While at Dante’s, I’d sent a certified letter to Drake saying he had exactly a month to move out of the house because I was putting it up for sale.
I hadn’t thought to check to see if he’d actually moved, though. Rafe and Dante had said they’d handle it, and I’d allowed it because I didn’t want to have anything to do with the mess that they’d created.
“I’m selling it to help pay for my bills,” I said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t have any choice. You were the one to point out that I should fight the cancer, weren’t you?”
Not altogether a lie. I did have medical bills rolling in, and the sale of my old house would mean that I wouldn’t have to live in debt for the next year as I worked to pay them off.