Page 320 of Breathe Like Hell

The truck jostled me violently as Micah pulled into the gas station lot, and I pushed myself to sit up as we bumped over cracked asphalt. He stopped at the pump and cut the engine while I raked my hands through the tangled lengths of my hair. Mason pushed open the passenger door and hopped out, helping me down after him.

But I had no intention of staying at the pump with them.

I took off across the small lot, boots thudding, gravel crunching, my hair streaming wildly behind me. Yanking the dirty glass door open, I could hardly contain my smile. Eric was at the register, and he grinned when he saw me.

“Eric!”

“Butterfly!”

“Can I hug you?” I asked as I hurried over the broken tiles, fluorescent lights gleaming dully over my head, the scent of stale coffee hitting my nostrils.

“Come here.” Eric extended his arms, and I didn’t hesitate to wrap my own around him, my smile unstoppable. I’d never actually hugged him before, but it wasn’t weird. He smelled familiar and comforting, his voice deep in his chest. “Are you doin’ okay?”

“Yes.” I took a step back, nodding, slightly out of breath from my running.

“You know how happy that makes me?” He propped his hands on his hips. “I’m not religious, but I’ve been prayin’ this new job would do you some good.”

“Yes. It’s great.”

“I’m really proud of you.” Eric tilted his head, his eyes shining. “Really fuckin’ proud.”

“Thank you, Eric. I need to buy things now.” I spun around, then paced down the aisle.

“Buy things? I’m not sure you’ve ever bought a single thing here,” he laughed, resuming his spot behind the cash register.

“I have totally bought things,” I assured him as I filled up a cup with cherry slush, then pivoted to grab a small pouch of wet cat food, carrying everything up to the counter. As Eric started punching buttons on the register, I plucked one of the keychains off the spinning rack—a plastic cutout of the state of Washington with an orca on it—and set it with my other items. “Also, I’m getting a car soon.” I tapped the keychain.

“Well, shit! Look at you go, butterfly!” His grin pulled even wider. The stubble on his chin was slightly longer than usual, and I wondered what Mila would think of it. That thought had me suppressing a laugh.

“I know, right. It’s crazy. I have money now.” I handed him a few bills from my pocket, and he popped the drawer open, then counted out my change before dropping it back into my palm. “Have you seen Bug lately?” I asked as I swiped up my items.

“Actually…” Eric motioned for me to come with him. He pushed open the wooden door to the back office—and a tiny onyx blur sped right between his legs. I gasped, nearly dropping my slushy on the tile.

“Bug!” I exclaimed, crouching as she walked figure-eights around my legs, rubbing her small face against my calves and purring loudly. She was wearing a little collar with a bell on it now. “What’s going on?” I glanced up at Eric as I scratched Bug’s head.

“Her owners were movin’ out of state. They’re not bad people, but they didn’t want to keep her. She wasn’t home too much, anyway. So, she’s been here.”

My knuckles brushed over her soft fur, dark like midnight, like my own wings. “Poor baby,” I murmured.

“I was thinking…” Eric started as I tore open the pouch of food and squeezed a little bit up, letting Bug lick the packaging.

“You were thinking?” I glanced up at him.

“Well, I don’t know if this gas station is the best home for a sweet little kitty like her.”

“Are you taking her home?” I asked. Bug meowed, so I squeezed up some more puree.

“I wondered if you might want to,” Eric finally explained.

Me? Keep Bug?

My eyes stung as I looked down at her. “What do you think, Bug? Should I take you home?”

Her purring intensified as she nuzzled her face into my palm, tiny feet pressing against the floor.

“That looks like a yes to me.” Eric chuckled.

“You think so?” My chest squeezed.