Page 19 of The Perfect Snipe

Mother. Fucker.

Rosa turns and looks at both Cat and me, and I swear that lopsided devilish smirk and narrowed eyes put me on edge. And fuck if my goddamn evil daughter doesn’t have the same look.

Mykyta and Rosa head back into the living room, and I turn to Cat, trying to ignore the way my heart rate picks up when we're alone. “Stay with her for the night. I also have a spare bedroom if you want her to stay here.”

She snorts. “My grandmother will sneak out and make her way home if I try that. Maybe even steal the car.”

Wyatt told me Rosa is a bit of a handful. Thought he was over-exaggerating. Guess not.

Cat hops up onto the chair, her movements sluggish. She leans forward, her forehead hitting the counter with a soft thud.

My chest tightens at the sight. Something else is going on. “You okay?”

“No.”

“Talk to me.”

She lifts her head slowly, like it weighs a ton. Her eyes are red-rimmed, glistening in the kitchen light. “She fell because she accidentally doubled her dose of blood pressure meds. Not the first time, apparently.” She blinks rapidly. “The doctor says it might be early onset dementia, but either way she shouldn’t be living alone anymore.”

Not sure what to even say to that, so I just nod.

“Then the brochures came out.” Cat's laugh is hollow. “Assisted living, home health aide. She lost it. Cursed out everyone in sight.” She bites her bottom lip. “She did it in Spanish, so Stella didn’t understand.”

“Don’t worry about that.”

Her fingers tangle in her hair, tugging slightly and resting her forehead on her palms. “How the hell do you get a woman help when she flat out refuses?”

I quirk an eyebrow, pressing my lips together to suppress a smirk.

She lifts her head, eyes narrowing. “Don’t start.”

“You two are exactly the same, so you probably know the answer.”

“Fuck you.”

“You wish.”

Her mouth opens and closes, no words coming out, eyes wide.

“What?”

Her head tilts, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “You cracked a joke. I didn’t think it was possible.”

A long sigh escapes me. “Why do you all think I have no personality?”

“Because you don’t.”

She says it so casually, it stings more than I'd like to admit. I push down the hurt, reminding myself that now isn't the time for my own feelings.

“Look, Cat. Whatever you need, tell me. If Rosa needs to stay here while you figure it out, fine. I have the room. I’ll help any way I can.”

And I mean it.

Chapter 8

Cat

I slouch in the chair at the small desk in my temporary room, rolling my shoulders to ease the tension. The soft glow of my laptop screen illuminates the dimly lit space as I prepare for my last parent-teacher appointment.

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