Page 62 of Shooter (Burnout 1)


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“That one’s mean,” Hawk pouted.

“No, she’s not. She’s just…got sass.

“Like her mama,” Tex added, cheerfully.

“It’s a demon,” Hawk insisted.

“You were holding chicken,” Chris pointed out. “She’s very aggressive about food.”

“I thought you told her no pets,” Doc reminded him.

“I changed my mind,” Chris insisted.

“Meaning she brought home a cat and you didn’t have the heart to tell her to get rid of it,” Doc replied.

Chris ignored him and intently buttered his dinner roll. “Not exactly,” he muttered. Everyone continued to stare at him.

“You got Slick a cat,” Tex surmised.

Everyone at the table laughed while Chris frowned. “There was an ad for kittens in paper on Sunday. I just went to check it out, that’s all. It’s not like I was really looking.”

“Oh man,” Hawk said. “Stick a fork in him. He’s done.”

“When’s the wedding? I’m so in charge of the bachelor party,” Doc declared.

“Jesus,” Chris grumbled.

“That’s not somebody’s barn cat, all fluffy and long-haired like that. That looks like one of those expensive cats,” Tex added.

Chris looked around the table at the shit-eating grins and finally put down his butter knife. “Look. The cat was free, okay? It was the only one left because it’s deaf. They were gonna destroy that cat. Seemed like a waste of a perfectly good cat, if you ask me. I had to take it. Slick loves the thing. Talks to it all the time, even though it can’t hear. But I think…I think maybe it knows she’s talking to it, or whatever, ‘cause it purrs like an engine whenever she does. Cat needed a home, Slick needed-”

“An anchor baby,” Tex drawled, grinning. Chris glared at his friend. “Can’t take a cat on a bus. I see what you did there.”

Chris sighed. “I just thought she might like the kitten. I’m not that devious. I didn’t consider that.”

“Added bonus,” said Tex.

“True,” said Chris, taking a bite of his roll.

“Out of curiosity,” Tex said, “how much were the other cats?”

Chris rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Few bills.”

Tex gaped at him. “Like two hundred dollars?” Chris picked up his chicken. “Like three hundred?” Tex persisted. Chris took a bite of chicken. “Like four hundred?!”

“Dollars?” said Doc. “For a cat? There’s a ton of free cats out there. Good God.”

“Yeah, well I realize that now, okay?” Chris snapped. “I get it now that she’d much rather have that free, slightly defective one that was gonna get put down, than an expensive, perfect one!”

“Peppermint is not defective!” Hayley shrieked from the hallway and Chris winced.

He turned in his chair to face her. “I didn’t mean it like that. No, she’s not defective. Christ, the thing’s like an attack dog but stealthier. It’s like living with a poofy, white ninja.”

Hayley’s bottom lip quivered. “They were going to put her down? You said they just didn’t want to keep her inside and have to clean the litter box and so they were looking for someone to take her.”

Chris glared at Tex. “See what you did?”

Tex held up his hands. “Hey, when my lieutenant decides to rescue deaf ninja kittens, I’m gonna have questions. It’s just my way.”

Chris got up and crossed the living area to Hayley and pulled her into his arms. “It’s okay. She’s got a home now,” he told Slick.

“Were there other deaf ones?” she asked miserably.

“Honey, if there were, we’d have a whole herd of them tearing up the furniture right now.”

“You swear?”

He nodded. “I’d be outnumbered and hiding in the bathroom, in fear for my life.”

“She’s not that bad.”

“Honey, that kitten of yours could take down a pitbull.”

“She likes you.”

“Pretty certain that’s the only reason I’m still alive. If she could go outside, I’d sic her on Mr. Tibbs.”

“What is it with you and him?”

“It’s his job, woman! He gets paid! He should do it right!”

A little after midnight, the poker game had ended and the boys had gone home. Hayley had exhausted herself cleaning, in direct defiance of Chris’ orders not to do any such thing. The kitten, too, had finally worn herself out after investigating all the Rangers individually, including attempting to gnaw on their boots. Her white, fluffy form curled into the upholstered chair in the living room. Hayley, in a nearly mirror image of the tiny feline, had settled into the couch with her own legs tucked up underneath her. Chris had taken the spot next to her, socked feet propped up on the coffee table, and surfed through channels.

He turned his head slightly to find Hayley asleep, her head tucked into his shoulder. He considered waking her, but she seemed so peaceful that he decided against it. He knew she had her lights on at all kinds of ungodly hours. To say she had some issues with insomnia was putting it mildly. He figured picking her up and taking her to the spare bedroom would only wake her.

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