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“Number 48.”
I got up to grab my drink and pay for it. The first sip hit my soul like a waterfall of comfort. I walked out onto the sidewalk, heading two stores down to the small Cat House.
Most of the town was against it for whatever reason, but my dad approved it. Since my mother was allergic to cats, I never had one growing up, so I would come on Saturdays to enjoy a few cuddles while I drank my coffee.
The door dinged when I opened it. Several cats raised their heads from their places around the room. My favorite tabby looked up from a small pink beanbag in the corner.
The owner, Hilda, had a be back in five sign on her desk. That wasn’t the smartest idea, but the safety in our small town ran deep. I plopped down next to the tabby and petted her head.
She rolled over, begging me to scratch under her chin.
“Who’s a pretty girl—”
Something thumped loudly against the glass window, making the tabby jump up from her spot and hide under the futon.
I turned to look, only seeing a single black crow staring at me from the closest stop sign. It must have flown into the glass. At least he made it out alive.
He cawed at me twice before flying over the building.
“Geesh,” I said, getting down on all fours to lure the tabby from her hiding spot. “Come on, baby girl.”
She hissed at me, startling me back onto my knees. “What’s the matter?” I asked.
She swatted her paw when I tried to reach under and touch her.
Standing up, I frowned at my favorite tabby and decided to go back home before I ran into anyone I knew from town. Living in a small town was bittersweet. I loved the idea of the close-knit community, but with Dad being the mayor, it was easy to get sucked into a conversation about politics that I didn’t care about.
I jogged across the road to where I parked my Kia, slid inside, and started the engine. Sweat gathered at my hairline, the A/C quickly relieving me from summertime in Louisiana.
I drove home with my cell phone vibrating from text messages and calls the entire way. Part of me wanted to change my number, but with my job starting soon, I didn’t want to miss anything.
Plus, I’d already blocked Jacob’s number three different times, but he bought burner phones and borrowed his friend’s to get to me.
It was an ongoing cycle that grew older by the minute.
There was excitement in our yard when I pulled down our gravel drive toward my parking spot.
I stopped a quarter of the way there when I realized who Luther was speaking to.
Jacob. He’d driven to my parents’ house to talk to me.
Anger and fear jolted down my spine. The audacity of him to show up at my parents’ house. However, his not being able to let this go frightened me deep down.
Jacob had never hurt me.
But this was hurting the both of us.
I pressed on the gas, slinging rocks down the gravel drive, drawing Jacob and Luther’s attention.
Jacob turned to face me, walking alongside my car as I parked, and got out. He was much taller than I was, so when he stopped in front of me, I angled my neck to look him in the eyes.
“What is your problem?” I hissed.
Jacob lifted both brows, giving me a flabbergasted look as if I was the problem, not him.
Sliding his tongue over his teeth, he placed both hands on his hips and finally met my stare. “Seriously, Josie? You’ve been ignoring me for weeks, and I’m the problem.”
Luther’s hurried footsteps stopped beside us. He looked unsure of what to do.
