Page 39 of Burn Bag

“Son of a bitch!” he shouted, wrenching one kitten from his leg.

I snatched it out of his hands just as he looked like he was going to toss it across the room.

“Why the fuck are they climbing on me?”

“They’re hungry!” I shouted above his screaming as one kitten started clawing into his chest.

“Get them off!”

“Okay, okay!” I set one down on the back of a chair, then turned for the next that was nearly to his shoulder. Just as I turned to set that kitten down, I heard an audible gasp and spun around to find kitten number three with his claws clinging to a very delicate area of his body.

Holding out my hands, I lowered myself to the ground. “Okay, stay calm.”

“You stay calm,” he gritted out. “There’s a cat attached to my dick.”

“Right,” I nodded, hoping to keep him from freaking out. Now I just had to pry the kitten off his manhood and do my best not to feel him up at the same time. Easy peasy.

I grabbed the kitten around the stomach, but as I started to pry his claws away, the other paw dug in harder.

“Please, take your time,” hubby snapped. “It’s not like I’m in pain here.”

“I’m trying! I don’t want him to rip off your balls at the same time!”

One by one, I pried the claws off him, and once he was free, hescrambled around the counter and picked up the broom in the corner, holding it out in defense.

“You arenotgoing to use a broom on those kittens,” I demanded.

“What the fuck are they doing here? I don’t even like cats!”

“Well, you certainly didn’t complain when you helped me retrieve them from my hotel room last night!”

“I did what?” he shrieked.

“How do you think they all got here?”

He started shaking his head rapidly, denying it was even possible. “I don’t like cats. I would never do that!”

“Well, you did last night!” I winced as my head started pounding again. I couldn’t worry about that now. I had to get the kittens away from him and get to a store for some litter and a litter box. I had no idea what happened to the travel one I’d had at the hotel.

“Look, we just need to get to the store and buy litter and a box?—”

“Are you fucking crazy? They’re not staying here with me,” he argued, his eyes wide and furious.

“What would you have me do? Throw them out on the streets?”

“Yes!”

I couldn’t argue with him. I didn’t even know what to say. He was my husband, but this was not my home. Not really. But until I found them a new place to stay, they needed the basics. I stormed away from him, tearing around the house until I found my purse lying on the entryway floor. Snatching his keys off the table, I flung the door open, wincing at the bright light, and headed for his truck.

“Wait!” he shouted, racing after me. “Where are you going?”

“To get supplies!” I called over my shoulder.

He ambled down the steps, eating up the space between us in no time. The keys were torn from my grasp just as I was about to get in the driver’s side door. “There is no fucking way you’re driving my truck.”

“Then you’re going to have to take me. Those kittens need food and a proper place to shit.”

Groaning, he shoved his fingers through his hair before scowling at me. “Fine. Get in the truck.”

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