I was a fool to think the flowers were from him. He made it abundantly clear what we were. I did the one thing I swore I wouldn’t in getting attached and giving it meaning.
I had no idea why Justin had sent me a bouquet and didn’t want to know. I hadn’t seen him since the laundry aisle incident and hoped never to see him again. I gifted the flowers to a neighbor. As beautiful as they were, I didn’t want them anywhere near me.
The cold drizzle left the already tame city quieter than usual, a few cars passing through here and there. It broke my heart to scan the sides of the road, fearing the worst.
But he was nowhere.
I was ready to give up for the night when I spied a dark, crumpled heap by a sewer grate. I rushed over, leaping into the runoff, reaching towards the mangled mound, my fingers sinking around the soft blob to discover it was a shirt, not a cat.
“Oh, thank God!” I breathed, hands still trembling.
At that, a car sped by, “Get a car you fucking loser!” hurled my way as they swerved into the runoff, a stream of water jetting straight under my hood to the stitches I so carefully tucked away. It was the only advice I listened to.
And that was all it took.
I clenched my temple and wailed, pain radiating from everywhere. I left the door open. I chased after him. I was the klutz who tripped and went down the stairs. I was the one wandering around defying doctor’s orders. If I were more careful, I would have still had Hank instead of an empty apartment and a gash on my head, another bill sure to arrive to hold me hostage.
I headed home in defeat, whimpers escaping as I went along. I still scanned every crevice on the way, desperate for a sign of my boy, listening for meows over the rain, knowing Hank would be more than mouthy about getting wet. But there was nothing.
Once in the stairwell, I was confronted with the overpowering stench of cleaner, another reminder of my crappy week. According to Lee, the place looked like something from a horror flick, blood streaking the stairs and pooling on the landing.
As I climbed the staircase, I was genuinely shocked I hadn’t broken any bones on the way down, the concrete steps more than capable of snapping a neck. I had some impressive bruises, but it was a miracle I hadn’t fared worse.
Thankfully, a neighbor found me moments after the fall while I was still in la-la land on the floor. I regained consciousness almost instantly but panicked at all the blood, not the person you want around in a time of crisis.
I had the paramedics call Lee instead of Dad, who I didn’t need rushing down from Vermont over a cut. Knowing him, he’d throw me in the back of his truck and head north. Once things healed a little, I’d let him know, but until then, I swept it under the rug with the rest of my secrets.
I could feel pressure building in my temple, the worry of popping stitches all too prevalent. I didn’t know what I’d do if they ripped. It wasn’t like I could drive myself to the hospital or afford another ambulance ride.
I walked down the hall, more than ready to say fuck it and turn in for the night with acetaminophen, not my preferred ibuprofen, but it was all I could have thanks to my scrambled brain.
“Elena, what the fuck are you doing?” demanded a voice I knew all too well.
I glanced up to see Jason standing at my door, holding a purple-striped leash with Hank in a matching harness attached to the other end.
“HANK!” I launched down the hall towards them, tears of joy replacing the sorrow. I plucked up the pudgy furball and hugged him close, burrowing my face in his back fat. “My baby!”
“You didn’t answer the question,” Jason grumbled.
I popped my eyes open, wanting to slap him, but eternally grateful that he had my boy. “Where did you find him? I’ve been looking everywhere!”
“A few blocks east of here under a bush. I wouldn’t cuddle him too close. He was eating a mouse.”
“Hank! You’re a murderer!” I scolded, shocked that he could even catch a mouse.
“Yeah, we do the prison interview for Forensics tomorrow.”
“Oh, he’s serving life on the inside after this stunt!” And he was. He was going on lockdown. I was never letting him out of my sight again.
“I owe you a thousand apologies,” Jason murmured, reaching out and stroking my cheek. “I ran into Mr. Goatee. We’ll talk after you change.” His fingers were hot against my flesh, a reminder I wandered around in the cold for hours.
He ran into Justin? And he hadn’t mauled him? The rage in his eyes was terrifying when he read the card.
“Talk?” I asked, unlocking the door with a free hand, more than ready to be warm and dry with Hank on my lap.
“Yes, we need to talk.” I cringed at his words, the ominous declaration hanging over my head as I unlocked the door.
We stepped in without another word, connected by the leash attached to the beast in my arms, Jason’s hand never letting go of its handle. I didn’t blame him either. Hank was fast when he smelled freedom. Especially fast for a tank ass.
With the lock set, I put the chunk muffin down, unhooking the leash but leaving the harness on, the straps making him look more like a busted can of biscuits than a cat.
Jason saw me staring and smiled. “Hey, I grabbed it on the way over. They were out of carriers, and I didn’t want to risk another escape. He didn’t exactly come willingly.” He rolled up the sleeves of his
