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“He was on the list to be euthanized.”
Inez scoffed. “You should’ve let them.”
Imogene gasped, widening her eyes. “Everyone deserves patience. Whiskers certainly does after everything he’s been through.”
Inez stared back at her, but Imogene couldn’t quite read through her expression. It was a cross between anger and intense concentration.
“Whiskers?”
“I renamed him.” Imogene said.
“To Whiskers? No wonder he wants to claw your fucking eyes out.”
“I thought giving him a softer name might make him more endearing. New beginnings. Like a fresh start.”
Inez started across the room toward the chair. When she was two feet away, the hair on his back stood and he hissed. This was a warning.
“Shut the fuck up!” Inez snapped.
And surprisingly, he did.
“What was his name before?”
“Hank.”
Inez eyed the cat. “Then call him fucking Hank.”
“Okay.”
Inez glanced around the room, inspecting Imogene’s space. She’d unpacked most of her boxes but hadn’t started organizing or decorating. Inez sauntered to the bookshelf. It was the only section Imogene had started on. It was far from complete, but she’d put some knickknacks and a picture frame on the shelf.
Inez lifted her chin. “Who’s that?”
“Me and my mom. She died when I was little. She had a tumor in her brain. No one knew about it. Not even her. One day, she was fine, and the next she had a seizure and died before the ambulance even got there.” She made her way closer to Inez but cautiously avoided Whiskers. I mean Hank. “I stayed with my dad for a year but then went to live with my grandparents after that. They had a huge farm. Actually, lots of barn cats. I used to spend hours playing with them. That’s why I got Whisk” —she cleared her throat— “Hank. I figured I’d been around them most of my life. But apparently, country cats and city cats are very different.” She took a breath. “My grandparents died when I was nineteen.”
Inez slowly turned, dipping her brows. “I asked who was in the picture, not for your fucking life story.”
Imogene clamped her lips.
Inez dragged her hand over her mouth, looking around the room and shifting her gaze to Hank. If Imogene was reading it right, her new landlord was seconds from demanding Imogene get rid of him. It would be the easy way out for her. Guilt free abandonment. But she’d be left in the same position as she started.
“I was lonely.”
Inez jerked her gaze.
Imogene forced a smile, shrugging. “I’m new in the city. I don’t know anyone. I guess companionship is more important than I realized.”
“Your solution to loneliness was getting a cat with serial killer traits?”
Imogene snorted, which rolled into a laugh. “I thought it was fate.”
Inez sighed and rolled her eyes.
“He can stay, but if he kills you in your sleep, you’ll get no sympathy. And your next of kin ain’t getting the security deposit back if I gotta hire cleaners for blood on the carpet.”
“That’s fair.”
Inez started to walk through the room, and Imogene rushed behind her. “Um, can I ask you something?”
