Page 54 of Enemies in Paradise

The girls all nod, but their entire focus is on what’s happening on the other side of the alley. Cassie is surrounded. She clutches her bags tight as the squirrel gang inches closer and closer. Her nervous cries of “Shoo! Shoo!” echo in the silence.

And I run.

Chapter 17

Cassie

Squirrels surround me, andI’m questioning my decision to stock up on the local, homemade trail mix with three kinds of nuts that I found at the grocery store. That’s when I hear a familiar, loud voice.

“Stay still. They won’t hurt you.”

I do what Bear orders, only turning my head enough to see him.

The squirrels–five of them total… no, six–match my micro move, then advance further. I go completely still, taking shallow breaths and trying not to blink.

“Squirrels don’t carry rabies,” Bear says in a calm voice that has the opposite effect on me.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

He inches forward, clearly less wary of the squirrels as I am. “In case they bite. I don’t want you to worry.”

“SQUIRRELS BITE??”

With that news, I’m finding it even harder not to make a break for my front door. There’s only one squirrel guarding the entrance. But Bear’s quiet,sh, sh, shcalms me.

“Very rarely,” he says quietly. “And not these guys. Probably. They just want a snack is all.”

Bear is close enough to my hostage-takers that I breathe a little deeper. They could decide to go for him instead of me.

Except I’m the one with the bag full of nuts.

“I’ve got trail mix,” I whisper.

“Is it Nick’s Trail Mix?”

I nod.

“Good. They love that stuff.” He stays just outside the circle his apparent squirrel acquaintances have formed around me.

“You know these guys?” I slowly lower my hips to my heels, balancing both bags in my arms, grateful for my years of yoga practice.

“We’ve met. No sudden moves, and you’ll be fine.” His voice is slow and smooth, and now that he’s not using words likebiteandrabies,actually soothing.

I set the bags on the ground and slowly pull the trail mix from one of them. Two of the squirrels wiggle their noses and scurry closer. And it’s kind of cute, but I am fully aware of distraction tactics, so I stay on high alert. The other three may be preparing to attack, and the one in front of the door hasn’t moved.

I sense Bear’s tension as Willy Wonkat meows from inside the studio.

“You still have a cat?”

“Maybe.”

Until these squirrels are gone, I need Bear here, so I’m operating on a need-to-know basis. And right now, he doesn’t need to know I’m keeping Willy.

In a stroke of both good and bad luck, before Bear can ask any more questions about cats, the squirrels charge forward. They stop inches from my feet, and I almost scream in panic. Fortunately, my emergency training kicks in. My mind clears, and I tear open the trail mix.

The smell of nuts fills the air, which is all the squirrels need to make their final charge. One of them actually touches me with his tiny paw before I toss the bag five feet away. They pivot away from me and swarm the trail mix.

I’m safe.

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