Where was my kitten?
Adrenaline surged once again, followed by the guilt of leaving her alone. I’d hastily texted Addie when it became clear Malone had plans for me, but had Addie forgotten? Accidentally let Brené Brown out?
All the interior doors were open. Had the kitten gotten into something she shouldn’t have? Surely Addie hadn’t taken her upstairs.
“Brené Brown, where are you?”
No answer.
I took in a deep breath and checked my phone for any texts from Addie. Relief whooshed through me. She had taken care of the cat.
But she’d also suggested I shorten my kitten’s name to initials. Surely the creature wouldn’t have adapted to initials in one evening.
“BB?”
She meowed and trotted into the living room.
“Are you being serious with me right now?” I asked the kitten. “I gave you a perfectly good name, and you and the girl upstairs have decided on something else?”
She paused to clean her face, not even making eye contact with me. If ever there were a poster kitten for the concept of “unbothered,” it was my tiny calico.
“BB?”
She looked up and meowed, doing the cat shuffle where she readjusted her feet and tail but didn’t actually move any closer toward me.
“Fine. You can be BB. It was a really long and serious name for a less-than-serious cat.”
She met my eyes and gave me a slow blink before ambling in my direction.
“Oh, are you going to bless me with your presence now?”
She jumped up beside me, making a tiny mew-ish grunt as she landed.
I leaned back against the love seat, hand on my purring kitten. I was exhausted. Malone had kept me very busy the night before, but there’d also been the adrenaline rushes from Lucius Malone’s accusations, then Trista’s situation, and then the fear I’d lost my cat.
And that was all before I took into consideration the acute disappointment that my dining room table’s main function would remain dining.
As for my pesky emotions, I’d successfully locked those back up while in crisis mode, and I had no interest in unpacking them. I did have some assignments due for my online classes, but my body refused to move. I’d get there eventually. Maybe even go to Finnegan’s to do my work with a glass of Malbec.
I couldn’t help but worry about Malone, but I also knew he could handle himself.
Oh, how that man could handle himself.
As if summoned by my thoughts, my phone buzzed, and I looked down to see a text from him:
No clue when I can get this straightened out. Police involved.
Just remember your favorite amendment
This is a mess, Stark
I know
I regret nothing
Me neither
I’ll come by when I can
