Page 107 of Breathe Like Hell

I’m so fucking sorry

Me

I don’t trust you. I’m not safe with you, and it’s not fun anymore

My eyes stung as I typed the message, so I turned my phone off and set it facedown on the countertop, casting my gaze out over the crumbling parking lot. There weren’t any cars parked or filling up on gas, but I did see a tiny onyx blur darting along the curb. I sprung off my seat with a smile on my face, heading towards the back door.

“Eric, I’m taking my break!” I shouted over my shoulder towards the closed door of the office, grabbing a little pack of wet cat food on my way out.

He yelled something back, but I wasn’t sure what. Maybe something about how I’d only been working for two minutes. I didn’t slow my pace.

“Bug!” I exclaimed as I pushed outside.

The little black cat wove herself around my legs, going in circles and rubbing her face on my calves, purring loudly.

“I missed you, baby,” I cooed, kneeling on the pavement to pet her small face, scratching behind her ears and smoothing my palm over the soft fur on her back. “Where have you been?”

She meowed, nuzzling my hand.

I tore open the pouch of food and squeezed a little bit out of the top, letting Bug lick the packaging.

“Sometimes I wonder if you only like me because I steal food for you, but then again, so does Eric—” The door opened behind me, making me grin. “—and you don’t like him nearly as much as you like me.”

“Dakota!” Eric said, mock-offended at my jab.

“Whoops. I didn’t know you were standing there.” I craned my neck to look up at him behind me.

“I just came out to see our little lady for the first time in a few weeks, only to find you two have wasted zero time before you start shit-talkin’ me again. I’m gonna start making you pay for that food,” he warned, but the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement.

Eric squatted down next to me and ran his knuckles over Bug’s head as she happily ate her wet food.

A thought entered my head. Eric was double my age, yes. But Mason and Micah were double Eric’s age. It was so strange to think about I had to press my lips together so I wouldn’t laugh. He seemed older than them somehow.

“Something funny?” Eric looked over at me, noting the humor in my expression.

“Nope.”

“Suit yourself. And refill the windshield washer fluid when you go back, please. Elliot forgot it at the start of the week.”

“Well, make Elliot do it, then.”

“He’s not here until late tonight. What if somebody needs to clean their windshield before then?” Eric widened his eyes, as if the idea carried with it an unspeakable amount of horror. “Then what, butterfly? They’re going to give us a bad review.”

“The star average of this place is already kinda shit, Eric. I hope you know that.”

He sighed. “Those people just don’t understand the vibe I’m makin’ here.”

“The run-down vibe,” I surmised. “The peeling paint vibe. The understaffed vibe.”

Eric looked at me with a straight face, which made me laugh.

“I’m sorry,” I said through giggles.

Eric just shook his head, raking his hand through his hair, a dry laugh escaping under his breath. “I choose to blame the previous owner of this shithole. He left the finances in such disarray it’s a miracle we didn’t close down entirely.”

“Well, good job fixing the finances.”

The sound of tires crunching on gravel had my gaze snapping to Eric’s. I quickly put the tip of my pointer finger on my nose; he rolled his eyes and let out an annoyed exhale. Nose goes.