My kittens.
Fuck me, if something happened to my kittens—
Laney isstillmoaning over my cookies and stops mid-noise as she spots it too. “Oh my god,how? Where are they? Are they okay? Are they still here?”
She tosses the last cookie on the counter as she speeds into the room almost before I can process that I need to do the same, and I’m no slowpoke.
“Miss Doodles?” she says softly while we enter the main bedroom, me still unable to form words for the horror at the idea that any of my kittens are missing or hurt. “Are you here, Miss Doodles?”
Jellybean meows at us from the bed. She and Snaggleclaw are bouncing over it like they managed to get up but don’t know how to get down.
Two.
Two kittens.
Miss Doodles isn’t in the bedroom.
Fred is though.
He’s still under the bed, cowering.
Three kittens.Fuck. Where are the rest?
“Where’d they all go, Fred?” I ask him through the crushing weight of fear in my chest.
He backs up against the wall, arches his little back, and stares at me like he wants to be a big brave kitty who can defend his barely-one-pound frame all by himself.
“Are they down there?” Laney drops to her knees next to me and peers under, her shoulder touching mine and making my skin flush hot all over my body.
“He’s skittish,” I tell her. “Move slow.”
“Oh, you’re beautiful,” she croons softly. “Do you want a treat? Here, sweet thing.”
“Slow—” I start again, but it’s Laney.
Never does anything wrong.
Unless I’m involved, and then she’s all-in for sex in a public kitchen before running away and hiding.
Which isn’t wrong.
It’s just different from what she’s used to.
She slowly reaches under the bed and deposits four of the treats from the purple bag as far under as she can, then backs up. “We’re gonna go find the rest of your family, sweetie,” she says, and the way she touches my arm tells me she’s talking to me as much as she is to the kitten. “Don’t worry. You’re safe. They will be too.”
It’s crazy in this moment to think of how much her confidence used to annoy me.
After last night and the car accident, I know she doesn’t have it all the time. But right now, she’s saving me with her belief that everything will be okay.
A dozen needles suddenly plunge into my back.
I stifle a startled squeal of pain but make enough of a grunt that Laney jerks her head to look at me.
“Cat,” I say. “Back. Claws.”
She straightens, and then she claps in triumph. “Where did you come from, you pretty thing? Up you go. Up on the bed with your siblings. We havefourkittens in here, Theo. How many are missing?”
“Three and Miss Doodles.”
