Page 12 of The Omega's Surprise Baby
As it turned out, I didn't need to spend a lot of time in Oceanport to do something stupid. I didn't make out with any alphas, no, but I did something else I probably shouldn't have done. It started innocently enough. After breakfast, I heard a hiss and a yowl come from outside, so I went to check it out.
When I stepped out into the yard, I noticed that I wasn't the only one who had come to investigate. Conner was kneeling by the bushes, holding his dog back from something.
“You don't have to be scared,” Conner said to whatever was hiding in the bushes. “Max isn't going to hurt you.”
I kneeled beside him and Conner startled. Apparently, he hadn't heard me approach. “Geez!” he exclaimed, whirling around to me. The dog barked, as if to support his owner.
“Sorry,” I said. “What are we looking at?”
Conner pointed at the black thing. Now that I was nearly eye level with it, I could finally make out what it was. A cat.
He sat in the bushes, staring at us with intelligent amber eyes. I was surprised that neither my arrival nor the dog's bark had sent him running. He simply sat there and watched us.
“Hey, kitty,” I tried, inching a little bit closer.
“I think he's hurt,” Conner said.
Oh, no.But Conner was right. Now that he said it, I could see it too. There was blood on the cat's front paw. Hard to make it out because of the black fur, but it was there. I took another look at the cat. No collar. Great. I'd planned to spend the day practicing for the rehearsal dinner, but... “Looks like we'll have to take him to the vet.”
Did this town even have a vet?
Conner turned to look at me. Maybe I went up a bit in his estimation because his eyes became big. “You'll help me take him?”
“Of course.” Provided we could get the cat out of the bushes first, of course. And just that moment, while Conner was distracted, Max decided to stick his nose in. The cat didn't hesitate slapping the dog with his non-injured front paw. Max yipped and sprang back.
It was obvious the cat wanted to be left alone.
I sighed. “Do you have gloves?” I asked Conner, who was petting his upset dog.
“I'll ask Dad.” Conner stood and ran into the house, the dog on his heels.
For a moment, I was alone with the cat. “I know you don't wanna come out of there,” I told him. “But I'm here to help.”
I realized I probably didn't look super trustworthy to him. Oh well. I wouldn't just leave a bleeding animal alone. When Conner came back with the work-gloves, I put them on and braced myself.
“What are you going to do?” Conner asked.
“Get our little friend out of the bushes,” I said.
“Okay.” Conner nodded, watching me intently. “I left Max in the house where he's safe.”
“Good thinking.” We really didn't need a dog here right now. On my knees, I crept closer to the bushes. Inwardly, I winced because I was wearing one of my nicer pairs of pants, but that couldn't be helped now. I had a cat to rescue, and so I reached out and grabbed it without worrying about my clothes—or my skin. The gloves I wore protected my hands from the cat's claws, but my arms were exposed. The cat hissed and lashed out as I lifted him out of his hiding place.
“Shhh,” I tried. “No one's going to hurt you.” Frankly, I was the only one getting hurt here. Ignoring the cat's obvious disapproval, I carried him into the house. Helpfully, Conner opened the door for me. In a way, I was lucky that the cat had injured his front paw, or he would have totally broken free.
As it was, I managed to carry him into the living room and set him down on the couch.
“Quick, close the door,” I told Conner.
He did.
Good. With the door closed, the cat couldn't escape outside. He seemed to sense this too. Instead of trying to make a run for it, the catglaredat me from his position on the couch. I glared right back, feeling the cuts he'd left on my arms.
But now what? How was I going to get the cat to a vet? I had no pet carrier or anything to transport him in, and I doubted that he'd cooperate if I simply asked nicely.
While I was pondering the situation, Conner stepped up to me. “Does it hurt?” he asked, glancing at my arms.
“It's not too bad.” At least it wasn't my hands. I could bear any injury as long as it didn't mess with my ability to perform.
