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“Okay, you wanna grab the little kitty?” “You’re mistaken, this cat is out for blood. She feasts off it and will likely gut both of us before we easily get a swab of anything. If she’s not pleased with a disembowelment, she might go for the jugular. Do you think your friend back here would like to volunteer as a sacrifice to appease the cat gods?”
I open the carrier and snatch up the cat. Her claws whip around, tail flicking with a vengeance. She’s dreaming of the many ways to end our lives, but Penny is so quick the cat doesn’t even notice she’s got the swab. I’m pretty sure it’s because she was looking me in the eyes and wishing for my death when it happened.
“Chris is the one who Liam made cry,” Donna explains. Chris laughs. “I didn’t cry!” “I’m sorry. Chris is the one whose eyes became moist after dealing with Liam.”
“Why the fuck is he in the trunk?” he asks. “He likes it in there. Do I judge you for the things you like?”
“Because Lucille has never been away from home, and I think she’ll do best if she has all of her favorite things.” “Doesn’t she hate everything? Maybe just hand her a bottle of poison and a knife so she can off her foes, and she’ll be as happy as can be.”
I actually have to assume he hates me when he hands me the cat. It’s like going, “I have this raging ball of fire—I know the perfect place for it, in Liam’s hands.”
I made him aware that he would owe me until the day he dies. And even as Death comes for him and takes his hand, I will make sure he knows that in the afterlife he will still be my bitch.
“I’ve renamed her Lucy Fur since you like atrocious names so much. She’s named after her father… Lucifer.”
“What if I lightly kill him?” he asks. “You can’t lightly kill someone.” “Sure you can. Like… I’m going to lightly stab him… oh shit… oh no… he’s stopped breathing. I will lightly try to resuscitate him. And then I will lightly guide him into this unmarked grave in the middle of nowhere.”
“Don’t you need the phone?” I ask as I realize that I’m still holding it. Liam slams the trunk shut, looks at me holding the phone, then cocks his head before looking down at what he’s holding in his hand. “In my defense… you didn’t specify.” “Did you cut his fucking finger off?” I growl.
She gives the dead mouse before her feet a light smack as if to say, “I wish this were you.” “Does it look like I want to clean up your bodies? No one cleans up mine,” I complain
Lucy Fur’s continual attempts at murdering me have so far gone unsuccessful. In an attempt to sate her bloodlust, she has presented me a mouse and written me a death threat in its blood.
I hurry over to his bedroom and see Lucille curled up in the heated bed next to his pillow, but what I see on his pillow is the shirt I’d left for her. “Were you cuddling my shirt?” “No, I was covering my face with it to protect it. She strikes at random.”
“I’m fast as fuck. I’ll catch them.” “I’m not even sure I’ve ever seen you run. You saunter cockily.” “Thank you.” “Not sure that was a compliment,” I mutter. “I’m like the killer in horror movies where the victims run as hard as they can, and the killer just walks after them and still reaches them.”
I think the issue is that he has a house to return to. “Is your house insured?” Gabriel gapes at me. “You’re not going to burn down my house!” “I would move everything valuable out of it first!” I assure him.
I’m holding his cat hostage until he decides to move in with me. “Hey, handsome,” I say. He flashes me his phone with a picture of Lucy Fur standing next to a paper that says, “Move in or else.” Honestly, I thought it was beautifully done.
