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There’s more where that’s coming from, human.
Binx was a fan of scratching the shit out of you.
You sat too close to him? Bloodshed.
You fed him three minutes too late? Better go find some antiseptic.
You were in his general vicinity when he wanted nothing to do with you? You better hope the medical kit still had butterfly sutures.
He was the epitome of a cat who barely tolerated humans so he could get free, easy food.
Poor Josie was always scratched to shit because of him. I’d been burned enough times to know to let the dude live his life without interference from me.
“He’s not a fan of people,” I told Cato as he stared at the cat, confused why he ended up with a scratch on the ass when he hadn’t done anything to him.
“Great office mascot,” Cato said as I yanked my panties up.
“Bathroom is through there,” I said, pointing. “There should be stuff to clean the cut with,” I added. “You want a treat, you little asshole?” I asked Binx in a sing-song voice, heading into the kitchen to get him one.
I took my sweet-ass time in there, too, tossing little fish-shaped treats onto the ground as Binx kept giving me dirty looks, pissed that I made him walk around to pick them up.
“I’m thinking of your waistline, my dude. You don’t want the vet to tell us to put you on a diet, do you?” I asked.
“You’re sweet talking him when he took a chunk out of my ass?” Cato asked, leaning in the doorway, watching.
“Maybe I should trust his instincts,” I said, shrugging.
“Please,” Cato said, shaking his head.
“Please, what?” I asked, small-eyeing him, just knowing he was about to say something that was going to piss me off.
“That cat’s opinion of me isn’t going to make you stop craving my cock, Rynn.”
The thing was, he wasn’t wrong. Andthatpissed me off.
“Oh, get over yourself. I can get cock anywhere I want,” I said, putting the treats away in the cabinet. And having another sudden urge for my popcorn. And maybe some pizza.
“Yeah?” Cato asked, closer than he should have been. And when I turned back, he was right behind me.
“Yeah,” I said, craning my neck up to keep eye contact.
“Then why’d you drag that pretty ass of yours all the way over to Golden Glades to get some of mine?”
“I was in the area,” I lied. I was good at it. My job relied on it.
“Liar,” he said, voice small.
“Why would I lie about that?”
“Because you don’t want to admit that I have any kind of power here,” he said, surprising me.
I mean, couldn’t he just be a pretty meathead? Did he actually have to have thoughts and feelings and powers of observation?
He was right.
I did always like to be the one in power. In everything, really. In work, that’s why I worked for myself. In friendships, that’s why I only had Josie, who was okay with that quirk of mine. And absolutely in relations with the opposite sex. It’s why I didn’t date anyone seriously.
I was always the one to initiate, to walk away when I was done. I had never had a guy in my apartment.
