Page 28 of Haunting the Hunter
I need a distraction, and since I’m here, I might as well make the best of it. I notice them playing Pop-A-Shot. Lifting my hand, I begin manipulating Jack’s balls, skewing them just enough to not go in the hoop.
“Wow, you suck at this,” Calli says, laughing at his failure.
Yeah, this’ll make me feel better.
CHAPTER 11
CADE
Islam my fists into the steering wheel over and over. I’ve been a real fucking asshole. I know. She doesn’t deserve it. Neither does Jack, but I didn’t exactly get lessons on how to be a good brother and friend. No family nights at the dinner table for me.
It was “Be sure to drive the knife in deeper” and “Attachments get you killed.”
Stopping my assault, I exhale.
My eyes shift to a bright neon sign and my stomach growls.
First: doughnuts and coffee.
I pull into the parking lot, grabbing my hoodie from the passenger seat and tossing it over my head. Opening the door to the Dunkin’, the smell of fresh coffee grounds fill the air. My favorite.
The employee behind the counter gives me a half smile and takes my order. A large mocha cappuccino and a half dozen chocolate-frosted doughnuts. It doesn’t take long for her to set my order on the counter.
The wind picks up as I open the door to leave, and I almost drop my damn coffee. The Dunkin’ employee comes up behind me and holds the door open, then follows me out and lights up a cigarette.
I huff as I open my truck door. I am throwing my doughnuts onthe front seat and setting my coffee in the center console when I hear a sound coming from the truck.
Was that a fuckingcat?
I step back out of the vehicle, my eyes looking over the bed of the truck. Nothing.
I bend down, my hand pressing into the gravel as I look under the truck. I hear another little sound come from behind me. It’s in the fucking wheel well.
I crouch down, angling my eyes up, and I’m met with glowing orbs of amber staring back at me.
It really is a fucking cat.
Reaching my hand up under my truck, I wrap my hands around the black fluffy thing. Surprisingly, it doesn’t fight me. I set it on the ground in front of the truck, and it just stares up at me.
“You do know that is not a safe place to sleep, right?” Did I just speak to a cat? Eh, not the weirdest thing I’ve done lately.
The little thing begins stretching on my pant leg, kneading my leg like it’s a scratching post.
You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.
I shoo the cat, but instead it jumps onto my hood, meowing loudly, like I offended it. It snuggles up against the windshield, making itself at home.
I roll my eyes, resigned, and head back inside to ask if I can have a cup of water. Coming back out to my truck, cup in hand, I set the cup on the ground and offer my fingers to the snoozing cat on my hood.
“Psspsspss.”
Surprisingly, the cat hops down and begins lapping up the liquid. I attempt another escape.
I sit in the driver’s seat and start to close the door when I hear the hostile employee start yelling at the cat. “Outta here, you mangy little fucker!” The cat cowers in front of the tree near the entrance, and the man kicks it.
He fuckingkickedit.
I sigh, opening the door, and slowly walk over to the man.
