Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
“Eros.”
“The hell, bro,” Mac huffs into the phone.
“I need the address to Blair’s home.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Mac asks after she rattles it off to me.
“Can you send me what information you do have on Blair?”
“Yeah, if you can answer a freaking question.”
“I can’t answer you,” I tell her. “Because I’m not sure what I’m doing at this point.”
The line goes quiet for a long moment. “She’s not a threat?” Naomi asks. It’s not surprising. Mac and Naomi are often together.
“I don’t believe so.” I leave off the part that it doesn’t really matter if she is. I know Naomi and Mac are exchanging a silent conversation.
“What do you need from us?” Mac finally asks after a beat.
“Help me get in and out of her building without hangups.”
“Two people live there.” I am getting a sense that these people aren't her parents. If they are, then she doesn’t care for them. Her wanting her cat and saying no one else would feed it spoke volumes.
“They're likely asleep.” I reach into the glove box and pull out my earpieces.
“Floor plan sent. The whole building has a keypad entry. I’ll open the doors for you.”
“Thanks.” I put my foot on the gas. “I need a few other things.”
“Hit me with it.”
“A grocery order I can pick up and any sort of cat stuff that you think I’ll need.” I know they use litter boxes, but that’s about the extent of that.
“Consider it done. I’ll send the location drop.”
“I appreciate this.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Naomi says. “We trust you.”
I trust them too. Each of us is the oldest in our families; well, Mac is an only child, but we were all born close together. The three of us have always operated together. There’s an understanding between us.
Everyone else in the family is going to have a new understanding. My hellcat is completely off-limits.
Chapter Six
BLAIR
"Binx." I groan. "I'll feed you in five minutes." He only smacks me with his paw again. "You little brat." I reach out, grabbing him and pulling him into my chest to cuddle. "You'd think no one ever feeds you and—" My brain comes fully online, and my eyes snap open.
Binx is on my chest, but I'm not in my bedroom. I'm in a cabin in Bumfuck, Egypt, for all I know. I sit up, still holding on to my cat.
"Eros? What the hell is going on?" He appears in the doorway to the bedroom like Houdini.
"You asked for your cat. I got your cat." My eyes drop to his right forearm, where I see a scratch. This man can’t be real.
"He do that?" I fight a laugh.
"We may have had a—" He pauses. "Scuffle."
"Scuffle!" I burst into laughter. How does he keep making me laugh? Eros stands in the doorway watching me until I get it together.
“I think we came to an understanding,” Eros says, his face deadass serious.
“Like you and my cat?” Binx wiggles in my hold, and I release him. He and I have been together for years. In my eyes, he’s the only family I have. I found him behind a dumpster. He was only this tiny, fluffy ball back then, pure black.
“Yes.” Binx jumps down off the bed, his tail up, flipping back and forth. He’s never been shy, but that doesn’t mean he’s friendly.
“Thackery Binx has never had an understanding about anything. We should get that straight now.”
“Thackery Binx?” Eros cocks his head to the side.
“It’s Binx to you and only Thack when he’s being a brat.” Which is pretty often.
“A bully, you mean.” I put my face in my hands.
“I can’t.” I shake my head, imagining Binx bullying Eros. “What is this understanding that you have with him?”
“That if I do what he wants he’ll be nice.”
“Nice?”
“Nice-ish.” Binx’s tail flicks in agreement.
“How did you get my cat?”
“I went to the condo you reside in and got him along with a few other things.” Shit, Eros was in my room.
“What other things?” I narrow my eyes on him.
“Clothes and some items from your bathroom.”
“Did you get into my panty drawer too?”
“And the bras.”
“You pervert.” I pick up one of the pillows off the bed and throw it at him. He catches it and tosses it back but to the end of the bed.
“I’ll make food. I put your things in the bathroom and there.” He points to a bag in the corner. It's one of mine. “And we need to clean your knees.”
“You’re not going to deny you’re a pervert? That you didn’t sniff my panties because you’re weirdly obsessed with me and keeping me?” I toss back at him. I think I am primarily trying to gauge his reaction or perhaps provoke one. He can remain so stoic no matter what he’s saying.
“If I’m a pervert, then it’s your doing.” He shrugs one shoulder. “Now, you got your sleep. It’s time for food and the shower you wanted before you passed out on me.”