Page 2 of Slay Ride

“He’s still in Florida. Ezra talked to him yesterday, and he said he’d rather drink a cyanide cocktail than step foot in snow.”

“I hope he forgets his helmet while he’s riding around on his motorcycle.”

“Cat! Bennett is obnoxious, but no one wants him to die.”

She can speak for herself. “He fed me his fruity girlfriend, Kindra. It’s still too soon.”

“Fair,” Kindra says with a laugh.

And her laugh makes me laugh. The temptation to cry fades away as I remember that as long as I have my friends—and the opportunity to commit a justified murder—then I’ll be okay. There will be other auditions...if I can find the will to subject myself to more defeat.

“Can I bring Shorty to the retreat?” I ask.

The sound of shredding fabric reaches our ears, and we turn our attention to the massive black cat climbing up the curtain. With his ears pressed back and his eyes wide, he looks like a tweaking meth-head.

He lets out a languid yowl as I stand and try to pull him from my ripped curtains. He flails and writhes in my arms, scratching my skin.

“He’s just so friendly,” I say.

Kindra is staring at me, so I pretend he wants love so that she won’t realize he’s an absolute terror sometimes. I bring the clawing psycho up to my shoulders to hug him, and his needle nails puncture my shirt and drive under my skin.

Instead of screaming, I smile at Kindra, which probably looks more like I’m gritting my teeth. Because I am.

“Put the damn thing down, Cat.”

There is no putting a cat like this down without getting clawed to shit, so I pull him away from me and drop him from waist level. Like a shadow demon, he zips along the edge of the room and tucks himself beneath the couch.

“Why did you call the biggest fucking cat I’ve ever seen Shorty? That thing came from something part dog.”

“I named him after Elizabeth Short, the Black Dahlia.”

“Of course you did.”

“I didn’t know Kindra Amato then or I’d have named him after you.”

“How are the things that come out of your mouth equal parts weird and sweet?”

“So can I bring him?”

A black ball of lightning shoots across the floor, pauses, then launches itself at the curtains again. Shorty isn’t doing himself any favors. He’s actually a very sweet cat when he isn’t primed for destruction, but of course Kindra is here to see this side of him.

She takes a deep breath and shakes her head. “Since Bennett isn’t going, I don’t see why not. I’d be concerned he might ‘lose’ your cat in the Alaskan wilderness. If Shorty rips up curtains at the cabin—or anything else, for that matter—you’re on the hook for it, though. Just remember that.”

That’s a fair trade, so I nod.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay about the audition?” Kindra asks. “It’s okay to not be okay.”

“I know, but I’m fine. What’s one more for the growing pile of rejections?” I force a laugh and flop onto the couch again. “Besides, I didn’t want to miss this retreat, and now I don’t have to. If I’m not meant to be an actress, maybe I’m meant to be a prolific killer.”

What I don’t say is that I’ve had doubts about that as well. Bennett blocked my kills at every turn on the island, but even if he hadn’t, I’m not sure I’d have gone through with it. The last thing I want is for Kindra to think I’m a failure at literally everything, but that’s a real possibility if I choke again.

“Hey, quit biting your nails and get over here and look at wallpaper swatches with me,” Kindra says. “I have to leave forthe flight soon, and I need to pick up the supplies as soon as I land in Alaska.”

“You’re heading up early?”

She nods and turns the laptop toward me. “I’ve left Ezra to his own devices for two weeks, and I’m worried he’s bungled it. Want me to go ahead and book your flight? I’ll give you the window seat.”

For the first time since getting that shitty email, I smile. “I’d love that.”

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