Lot
Nice & Slow
Ipull up to Dice’s house. I could have walked—it’s that close—but not in these foot traps. And there was no way I could lug Queenie and all her stuff two blocks.
As I was leaving Rayne’s, she let out a yowl like her tail was on fire and latched on to the back of my coat, claws dug in. I spun in circles trying to shake her off. Rayne tried to help, but Queenie wasn’t having it. She hissed in full demon mode.
The other times I’ve had to go out, I’d been able to lure her into the crate with a treat and Spider-Man. But now she’s wise to me. I couldn’t dump her on Rayne like that, and I didn’t want to cancel, so here we are.
“You’re not a toddler,” I grouch, tucking her under one arm, purse slung over my shoulder, her bed gripped in my other hand. “You’re a cat. Start acting like one.”
“Meow.”She blinks up at me with those big green eyes.
I swear I see a spark of victory in them.
Before I can knock, Dice opens the door the second my heels hit the porch like he’d been listening for me.
His eyes drop to Queenie. “Chaperone?”
“You don’t even want to know.”
He takes the bed and my purse, stepping aside to let me in.
“She was losing her mind. Hope it’s okay.”
“You’re here, Lot. That’s all that matters.”
He looks at Queenie again. She stares back and lets out a low growl. More tiger than house cat.
“It’s not you,” I tell him. “It’s everyone.”
“Except you.”
“I don’t get it.”
“I do.” He grins. “Think I can take your coat without losing an eye?”
“Let me put her down. Her stuff’s in the car. I’ll go?—”
“I got it.”
“This already feels like too much.”
“It’s not. Gimme your keys.”
I hand them over and set Queenie down. “If you ruin my night,” I warn once the door closes behind him, “I will leave you at the shelter, no matter how much you act a fool. Don’t mess with me, ho.”
“Meow.”She licks my hand sweetly. Fake as hell.
Dice returns with the bag and litter box. He fills it and gets her a bowl of water while I set up her bed on the couch with Spider-Man.
“You’re kidding me,” he balks, seeing her curled up with the plushie.
“She likes it.”
“Yeah, and I still can’t get no love.” He feigns a wounded look. “Guess I’ve got my work cut out for me… times two.”
“Think you can handle it?”
