Page 37 of Rescued By the Beast
Sleep eventually overcomes me, and I take a nap.
When I regain consciousness, I know that a few hours have passed, as the sky outside the windows is completely dark. The night is silent, except for the annoying sound of Mark's computer keys.
Oh, no! He's still there, working.
I had a whole plan worked out to escape, and he just won't leave. From time to time, he stops typing and stares at me. His eyes are fixed, almost challenging. It's as if he's waiting for me to do something.
Fear sends a shiver down my spine.
I'm sure he thinks I'm just a cat, but he'll soon become suspicious if I don't act right.
Behave like a cat, Sandra, I tell myself.
What to do? What to do?
Oh, for heaven's sake, do something, quick!
So, with my heart racing, I lift a paw and start licking it.
Argh! Bad choice!
The feeling of the hairs on my tongue is repulsive. I almost choke, fighting the urge to vomit right there. Unable to hide it very well, I run to the water fountain at the foot of the kitchen counter and start drinking frantically, trying to clean my mouth.
This is so humiliating!
One day, I'll laugh about this. Today is not that day.
I take a deep breath and examine the windows. All of them are closed except for one — the one right next to Mark. A tiny crack is open, just enough for my paw to fit through. Maybe if I can push it open, I can escape that way.
I just need to wait for him to leave...
As if by magic, he stands up.
My heart races.
Now's the time!
He's going to leave the office and I...
Knocks on the door interrupt my thoughts.
Damn!
He sensed the visitor's presence even before they arrived. Of course he did, he's a supernatural hunter.
And I'm one of those things.
My mind races, weighing the options. When he opens the door, I can try to escape through it. But he'll be right there, ready to chase after me. The other option is to take advantage of the distraction and try the window.
Okay. That's it. The window.
I climb onto his desk, my paws slipping a little on the scattered papers. Some fall to the floor, but I ignore the noise. The window is right there. I push the glass with all my strength, but it's too heavy. The gap remains tiny, relentless. I try again, my whole body straining, but it's like trying to move a mountain with my paws.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
I turn to peek at the door. A man enters. He's huge, the kind who looks like he carries cupboards on his back for fun. Not as tall as Mark, but wide enough to block the door, with light black skin, dark hair close to his head, and a broad smile. I smell the faint scent emanating from him — bear. Definitely bear.
My chances of escape are looking worse and worse...
