Page 95 of Enemy
At least no one bothers us as we walk through the settlement reminiscent of the summer camp that used to occupy this area before I was born. A cat dashes our way and stops a few paces ahead before releasing a prolonged meow.
“Hello to you too,” Road says, resting some of his weight on my shoulder. We’re still being watched, but with there only being so many cabins ahead, we must be almost in the safety of his home.
The cat walks ahead of us, but turns its head every now and then, as if to make sure we’re following. Is this an omen? It’s black.
“Is this… Brigid’s cat?” I ask. It makes sense for a witch to have one. Or several for that matter, as I spot them on the porch of a wooden cabin at the edge of the village.
“Nah, he’s a stray. I’m trying to get some of the cats in Vulture Hollow neutered, but you know how it is, they breed like bunnies,” Road says, relaxing against me, as if the neutral topic provides solace from the tension of the past weeks and everything that’s happened since yesterday.
Several of the felines meow, and some head toward us in a disorganized crowd of fur and whiskers. It’s borderline intimidating when they attempt to trip Road by rolling their bodies against his shins.
I frown when he leads the way to the porch. “This isyourhouse?”
Road grabs the railing and walks up the steps. “Yeah. Sorry, I’ll just—” He sucks in a sharp breath and opens a large plastic bin locked with a series of latches. Inside is a giantpile of dry pet food, which he starts scooping into metal bowls arranged by the wall. “Can you change their water? There’s a hose coming out of the wall,” he adds, pointing out the two bowls filled with water that appear far from clean.
“You never said you have cats. So many too.” I do as asked, taking in the furballs meowing in excitement. There must be at least twenty here. What else do I not know about Road? Lots, I’m sure.
“Oh, I just feed them. They’re not allowed in the house or anything,” he tells me before locking the food container while the flurry of cats reaches their troughs.
In my mind, it does pretty much mean they’re his cats, but I’m not about to question it. “Do you have a favorite?” I ask as I put down the last bowl of water.
Road chuckles and pulls up a chonker of an animal, with a thick ginger pelt and the features of a rogue. “You gotta love the ones that cause most trouble. Say hello to Nutter,” he says and offers me the feline to pet.
The cat yawns at me, then licks its mouth, but when I reach out to pet him, he lashes out at me with claws. “Err… I don’t think he likes me.”
I don’t know what we’re doing playing with cats and having this conversation about nothing when there is so much to still be said between us, but it’s nice to get a breather from it all. Road in his natural habitat. It’s new to me, and I find him pretty endearing when he rests his chin between the cat’s ears before settling it back on the floor. He’s looking up at me when his gaze darts past my body.
“Hey! What are you doing creeping around my house?” Road shouts, stretching with a loud creak. I glance over my shoulder to spot a red-haired teenager in checkered overalls peeking out from behind the cabin. His long fingers twitch as he considers his options, but since he’s caught red-handed, he gives up on the plan to run away and clears his throat.
“I wasn’t! I just came to change the blankets in the cat house.”
I give Road a pointed look. He has acat house. But sure, totally not his cats.
I’m about to tell the teen to beat it, but I bite my tongue. It doesn’t feel like it’s my place to do so. I’m on thin ice here, and what if he’s the son of someone important?
“Good, now go say hi to your mom and clear off. I need to sleep,” Road says and walks inside, past the unlocked door. We’re greeted by the scent of wood, and the first glimpse of the corridor inside the wood log home doesn’t reveal much. There’s an old cabinet close to the door, and some hangers with outerwear. Through the open door ahead, Isee tiles, so that’s presumably the bathroom, and on the right is a room dominated by a blanket-covered couch.
“Shut the curtains,” Road tells me as he heads to the other side of the house.
“Are we expecting more spies?” I sigh, wishing for a bit of peace with him already. So much longing has been trapped in my chest since our fight at the motel, but I squash it once again and close the damn curtains first, sinking the interior in orange-tinted light. It’s muted but bright enough to reveal the fireplace, the old TV and a large collection of DVDs. One of those singing fish is hung on the wall, but other than that, Road only has a couple of framed photos for decoration. The room is simple and honest, like Road himself.
“Probably.” He’s back with me before I can finish scanning roomy surroundings, and we face one another with way too much floor between us.
In the dim light, it’s somehow easier to cross the distance and I never take my eyes off him as I step closer, closer, and then I’m in his embrace, my arms sliding around his waist, cheek against his jaw. I take a deep breath, and while he could use a shower after what we’ve been through, I’m comforted by his smell anyway. It’s only been a few days since the motel, but it feels like a lifetime.
“Thank you for standing up for me,” I whisper, running my hands up and down his strong back. His arms tighten, and while I can no longer breathe, I love being this close to him.
“You literally threw everything away to help me. Of course I’m on your side,” he tells me, rubbing his stubble against my skin.
“I missed you so much. I don’t think I can be without you anymore.” And I don’t know when that happened, but it did. Somewhere between him stabbing me and us falling into a fuckfest, I fell in love with him so hard my heart hurts when I think about it.
“We’ll make this work,” he says, exploring my back with both hands, as if he’s a starved man in need of making sure the meal he’s been spared won’t be the last. “Fuck, I thought you were gone—”
I love the warmth of his sturdy body. It reminds me that he’s alive, not a cooling corpse. I shudder at the memory. “And I found you in my cabin with foam running down your mouth. You were so cold, and your heart beat so faintly, I was sure you were dead. I didn’t want to live. I almost pulled someRomeo and Julietshit and shot myself. But then I heard your pulse, and… Road, I’ve not cried in ten years, but last night, I bawled like a baby.”
He’s overcome by a full-body shudder and slides his face against my neck, nose under my jaw bone, as if he wants to crawl inside me. “And I thought you were a bit smarter than me,” he says in a faint voice.
“Guess not, so don’t you fucking die again.” I don’t care what I had to sacrifice to have him. I’ll probably worry about it tomorrow, but when I’m in his arms, it doesn’t seem to matter.
