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Oh yeah. “Nice to meet you... Mrs...” Fuck, he forgot her last name already.
“Rachelle. Most people just call me Chelle.” She took a deep inhale and held out her hand. “I wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”
He raised his gaze from her feet, which were tucked into fancy flip-flops. The toenails were all painted a light pink. Nothing flashy like the nail polish the sweet butts wore.
“Sorry,” he muttered, taking her fingers in his. Not shaking her hand but just holding it.
Her skin was warm and soft, her grip firm. Confident.
He liked that.
She had a strong backbone. This wasn’t a woman who’d fall apart at the slightest thing.
No.
He fucking really liked that.
“Me, too,” she said softly, staring at him with her brow dipped low as she attempted to subtly extract her hand from his.
For some reason, he didn’t want to let her go.
But if he didn’t, she’d think it was weird. That something was wrong with him.
Plenty of things were wrong with him, but he tried not to make it obvious. So, he released her hand, dragging the tips of his fingers along her palm when he did so.
He caught her soft, ragged inhale and the curl of her fingers into her palm, like his touch had hurt.
Would never hurt you, he assured her in his head.
“You let us know when you’re ready,” Cassie told them, pulling his attention back to the room.
“We’re ready,” Chelle said as a single tear rolled from the corner of her eye. A couple creases marked both sides.
Yeah, not a sister.
Definitely their mother.
Maybe late thirties, early forties.
She wasn’t what he’d call pretty, not like the younger ones, but beautiful.
Yeah, she was fully grown. She already lived through a lot of mistakes. Her daughters still had a lot of mistakes to make yet.
He took a quick glance around the room and his eyes landed on a bunch of framed photos on the fireplace mantel. One photo was of a bride and groom. The bride looked just like the twenty-year-old who greeted him at the door and the young man wore a uniform. Had to be the mother when she was younger. When she got married and added that Mrs. to her name.
He wondered why the husband wasn’t with his girls. Maybe he was at work.
Or didn’t give a fuck about the cat.
He thought carefully about his question before he asked it, “We waitin’ on anyone?”
Chelle shook her head. “No. We’re all here.”
“Mom,” the one on the floor said. “I’m not ready.” Tears were now dripping off her chin and her nose was running unchecked.
Chelle gave her daughter a lopsided smile that didn’t reach her big brown eyes behind those glasses. “I know, sweetheart, but Pumpkin is ready. We don’t want him suffering anymore.”
Shade glanced at the orange tabby in the girl’s arms. Only its head was visible from the blanket.
“It old?” he asked.
“Eighteen,” the older girl answered, moving to join her sister on the floor. “Can we hold him while you do it?” she asked Cassie.
“Yes, if that’s what you’d like. You can comfort him. It’ll be painless. I promise.”
“And then what happens?” the younger one asked.
“Then he’ll go to sleep,” Cassie said.
That wasn’t quite what happened.
“Forever.” The youngest glanced up at her mother. “Then what, Mom?”
“We already decided this, Josie.” The words came firm, but gentle. Like a mom should sound.
Josie sniffled, nodded and hugged Pumpkin to her chest. The cat gave a weak meow.
The older girl put her arm around her sister and glanced up at Cassie. “Okay.”
“Do you want to join them on the floor?” Cassie asked Chelle, holding out her hand for the bag Shade still held.
“No, I’ll let them...” The woman’s words faded off as her mouth wobbled. She was trying to remain strong, trying not to lose it in front of her kids.
Cassie nodded in understanding and got on the floor with the girls, opening up her kit and doing her thing.
Shade stared at the mother. She was struggling not to bawl.
Over a cat.
Shade glanced at the animal while Cassie quickly shaved a spot on its leg to prepare it for what came next.
Cassie wasn’t crying yet. She always did her best to wait until after they left the house. But sometimes she couldn’t help it.
It was who she was. She felt things deeply.
This was probably not the best job for her.
If she would train Shade to do it, he’d get it done quickly, efficiently and without one tear.
Shade stopped watching Cassie, because he knew the procedure, and watched Rachelle Goodson instead. He could tell what stage Cassie was in the process just by watching the woman’s face. He could read it even though Chelle tried to hide it.
He was good at that. Picking up on other people’s emotions.
He was once told it was a gift.
He was also once told that it was surprising that someone so stupid like him could be gifted like that.
