Page 56 of Hell's Kitten

“Wha-?” I utter, turning in her grip.

She scowls at me. “You didn’t seriously think I wasn’t going to quit as well, do you?” She boops my nose. “Come on. Let’s go back to my room and getseriouslydrunk and listen to some very loud Avril Lavigne.”

I laugh, but it turns into a sob. “I love you,” I mumble as I throw my arms around her neck.

“I know, kitten,” she says softly. “It’s going to be okay.”

I’m not sure about that. But I am very sure about cheap vodka and some seriously obnoxious 00s punk pop.

At some point, I would have to tell Nim. But his heart is broken enough for one day. My shitty news could wait untiltomorrow, especially if I get so wasted that I passed out in Alannah’s bed, which is my current plan of action.

This was the worst day ever. But at least when you’re at rock bottom, the only way is up.

Right?

CHAPTER 21

Nim

I’m not reallysure how I’m going to get through the day. Keeping busy seems the best option. So after I manage to shake myself from my catatonic state, I set about thoroughly washing every single litter box and food dish both in the café and my apartment. Since we are most definitely closed, I drop all the blinds in Toe Beans and open up the carriers. Slowly, the cats start creeping out to investigate what’s going on.

I wish I could explain it to them, but I don’t really know myself.

Once I’ve cleaned their stuff, I tackle the café. Those bastards didn’t care what a mess they made as they tossed all my food, so there are crumbs and sticky smears all over the counter area. Then I wash the inside of the windows. Because why not?

By mid-afternoon the cats are mostly out in the café again, so I take some time to groom them. The long-haired breeds get brushed every single day, but the short-hairs enjoy the sensation as well. Or at least, it’s good for them. Some try to wriggle away, but I’m able to wrangle them long enough to tend to most of their backs and tails. After the day I’ve had, I skip most of their bellies. It’s not worth the stress for anyone.

It’s around this time that Jessie texts me to let me know that he’s with his friend Alannah and that he won’t be back until later so not to worry about dinner. I won’t lie, not only does that worry me but it also stings slightly. If there was ever a day I needed to hug my boy, it’s today. But then he texts once more saying he’s staying overnight with her and again there’s no explanation given as to why. I start to worry that something might actually be wrong.

I don’t sleep well. It’s not the first night we’ve spent apart since we got together as he’s crashed with Alannah before. But my bed is still very empty, and my head is very full. So I toss and turn into the early hours of the morning, pissing off my cats until I finally pass out.

It’s incredibly strange not setting my alarm for five o’clock, and also pointless as I wake up early anyway. I will myself to try and get some more rest, but eventually I give in and go and put some coffee on. I told my staff that I’d message them, but I haven’t yet. So I stick to taking care of all the cats for the time being as it keeps me preoccupied.

Jessie is really concerning me, now.

In the end, he comes walking through the back entrance of the café at around ten-ish looking bedraggled. I rush to him right away, and throw my arms around him. “You okay?” I grunt.

“There was vodka,” he says, his voice hoarse. “So much vodka.”

I stroke his hair and kiss his forehead. “Breakfast?” I’ve got bacon, eggs, hashbrowns, pancakes, whatever he wants.

“Maybe in a bit,” he says with a sigh. “Alannah did already force a PBJ down me as well as heavily sugared coffee.”

I take his hand and lead him to sit on one of the sofas. It’s so odd to see the place unoccupied in the morning daylight, but I push those thoughts aside for now. Something is definitely not right with my kitten.

“What’s wrong?” I ask bluntly. I used all my words on Mrs. Durham yesterday, but the ones I have spare you bet I’m going to dredge up for Jessie.

He huffs, and his shoulders sag before he crawls into my lap, his legs draped over my thighs and his arms around my neck. “It’s stupid compared to your problems. I don’t mean to be this upset. It’s just…well, it’s a lot after the past few years, you know? And I didn’t see it coming atall.Because it’s such fucking bullshit and…”

He sighs and takes a deep breath, the soft puff hitting my skin. I stroke his back. “Your problems aren’t stupid,” I assure him.

It’s not the suffering Olympics. Whatever has made him feel this way is valid. Has someone been mean to him? I don’t care if they’re a college kid. I shall be using my full, scary intimidation tactics that I reserve for special occasions.

“You could lose your business and your home,” Jessie says. “This is just…petty. I’ll be fine.”

I can’t lie. It stings that he says it’s my home and not ours. Doesn’t he think of it that way? Has he been considering moving somewhere else this whole time?

That’s not the point. I’m so low it’s making me insecure, like when I was a teenager and I’d lash out because I was so angry and brutally hurt. That’s when I learned it was much better not to speak at all or at least consider my words very carefully so I wouldn’t accidentally inflict more harm on others.

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