Page 37 of Morally Gray Daddies

As far as I knew, Clara didn’t have any other close friends or nearby family, certainly none that she visited on the regular. There was a shelter she worked with, but she’d hardly go there; there would be very little protection, and she wouldn’t want the mob descending upon it looking for her. That would scare the women and children who had gone there for safety.

Bus station or train station seemed the most likely, but which one?

A rustling sound made me jump, and I spun around, my eyes flying open. The idea that she’d lain in wait and might be about to attack had not occurred to me… but no one was there. Then, movement. Small movement.

The little black cat mewed as it slunk out of the pile of boxes lined up against the wall of the building, its green eyes trained on me as it came over to wind around my feet.

“Hello, kitty,” I said, bending down to give it a little scratch on the chin. It purred, leaning into my fingers. I figured the scrawny thing deserved a reward because just seeing it made me realize where Clara had gone. Sliding my hand around the cat’s head, I scooped it up from the chest, cradling it in my arms. It purred again, rubbing its head along the underside of my chin.

“Let’s go find Clara.”

Clara

My heart ached as I walked into the warehouse for what I knew was going to be the last time. As soon as I stepped in, a chorus of mews greeted me, cats of all shapes and sizes sliding out of the darkness and trotting toward me, tails held high.

Tears sprang into my eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I told them, lowering myself to the ground and holding out my hands so I could pet them. “I don’t have any food this time.”

It didn’t matter.

They purred, crawling over me and nuzzling me, which made my heart ache even more. Maybe food was how I’d originally gotten them to trust me, but the connection went beyond that now. They were happy to see me, even empty-handed.

Star, named so for the white star on her forehead, the only bit of white among the unrelenting black of her fur. Sweetie, a tortoiseshell cat who had stolen candy from me rather than the food I’d offered her the first time we’d met. Rocco, a grey-striped cat who was missing half his right ear and who hung back before coming forward. He liked to play hard to get, but he was also the only one who would let me rub his belly once I got him in my arms. Moxie, Rainbow, Little Bit, Truman, Felix…

I was going to miss them all so much. I was going to worry about them so much. They were all good street cats, used to scavenging, but that got hard in the winter… and sometimes they needed more than that. Like when Rocco had gotten in the fight that had cost him half an ear. And love. They all needed love. They wanted it. But they wouldn’t let anyone but me near them.

I knew Hailey would take care of the shelter—and with Jack’s backing, she could do even more for the women and children there than we could before—but who was going to take care of my sweetie kitties? No one. They were going to have to take care of themselves.

Just like me.

“We’ll be okay,” I whispered to them, trying to make myself believe the words I was saying. “You’ll be okay, and I’ll be okay.”

Or I could stay.

I didn’t have to run.

I could stay with Gio. Be his wife. Be Hailey’s cousin-in-law. Use my new position to make changes the way she was. Make life even better for my kitties as well. Was it a cage if I was choosing to walk into it?

I didn’t know because I hadn’t been given the choice.

What would Gio do if he ran all over the city looking for me, only to return to the house and find me there? The expression on his face would be… memorable. Of that, I was sure.

Star mewed at me, placing her forepaws on my knee and tilting her head, as if she was asking what I was going to do next. If I was really going to leave them, never to see them again. She mewed again.

I let out a shuddering breath. My bottom tingled.

Was being Gio’s wife, his babydoll, really so bad? Now that I had the choice, now that I had escaped, did I really want to run from Daddy? The house or the train station…

Where should my next stop be?

Gio

Cazzo.

Either I’d been wrong, or I was too late. The warehouse was empty. I scratched the black cat under his chin again, feeling his purr vibrate against my chest.

There was an answering mew and then another, and then all the cats I’d met while I’d been… getting to know Clara… came to greet me.

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