Page 111 of Play Pretend

My eyes flew open at the sound. I looked around, swiveling my gaze from left to right. I held my breath as I strained to listen, trying to figure out if that was just my imagination or if it was real.

But then I heard it again—a barely theremeow.

I crept toward the pile of broken and shattered wood. Carefully, I tugged a piece away, then another. There was a blur of orange in the corner of my eye, and I whirled toward it. Atiny tail snaked around the edge of the lighthouse, and I inched forward.

Crouching, I stopped at the rounded corner. Slowly, I peeked around it, finding the smallest kitten I’d ever seen huddled in on itself. It stared up at me with massive blue eyes, its tiny body trembling uncontrollably. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the cold or because it was terrified.

“Hey, little guy,” I cooed, holding my hand out. “Where’s your mama?” I looked around as if I expected her to leap out at me, but when I didn’t see or hear her, I turned my attention back to the kitten.

It scooted into the wall as I edged closer. Reaching into my purse, I grabbed the bright green scrunchie at the bottom and held it out. The kitten’s eyes latched onto it as I danced the silky fabric in front of its face.

He inched closer, lightly sniffing. Hesitantly, a little paw tipped with delicate claws reached out and gently tapped the scrunchie. He glanced at me as it swung back and forth before doing it again. Something about him—the way he looked at me with those big blue eyes, trusting and scared at the same time—made me feel like I couldn’t walk away, not without making sure he was safe.

“That’s it,” I murmured as I shifted onto my knees. He skittered backward at the sudden movement, and I nearly groaned. What was I thinking? But then he edged closer, his eyes flicking between me and the scrunchie. “Here you go, little guy.”

As he grew braver and nudged his nose against the fabric, I noticed he was limping. Then I saw the dirt caked in its fur—dirt, or blood? He inspected the scrunchie as I inspected him. Was he injured? Maybe not.

I couldn’t tell, but I knew I needed to take him to the vet. He limped closer, and when he finally tapped his nose against my hand, I held in my excited gasp. He jerked away before comingback and nuzzling his head against my palm. He slunk along my arm before settling between my leg and the lighthouse.

Hesitantly, I smoothed a finger over his tiny head, and he meowed. I didn’t know what to do—should I call Ronan? He might’ve known what to do, where to go. But he was busy at work still hunting the burglar down, and he’d already missed so many days because of me. I didn’t want to bother him withmoreof my problems.

I shook myself. I could do this on my own.

The kitten’s paw slid onto my thigh like he was trying to climb into my lap, and I finally wrapped my hand around his tiny body. He wassosmall, and as I held him, I noticed that he was trembling even more. Was it a normal amount of shaking, or should I be worried? He smelled like seawater and fish. How long had he been out here?

I chewed my bottom lip as I looked him over. His nose wrinkled as I probed his leg, and he jerked it away. So, he must’ve been hurt.

“Let’s find your mama,” I murmured, scratching between his ears. He rested his head against my chest as I stood, nuzzling closer to me. His claws sank into my arm, and I hissed at the pain, but soothed him until he finally relaxed again.

I didn’t want to take him away from his home, but he needed to get checked out to make sure nothing was seriously wrong. Rocks and wood crunched underfoot as I searched for his mom, but I didn’t find any sign of her—or any other animals.

Just him.

Waves crashed in the distance, and the humid, salty air clung to my skin as I widened my search to the clearing behind the lighthouse before making my way to the sand dunes. Nothing.

My teeth sank into my bottom lip as I stared down at him. He blinked up at me, his eyes watery.

“I think you need a doctor, little guy,” I murmured, smoothing my thumb along his face. His head flopped back, and my heart fluttered. I clutched him with both hands, protectively holding him against my chest as I carefully made my way down the hill toward my car.

I tugged the door open, and he jolted upright. “Shh,” I soothed. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

I sank into my car seat and turned the car on, settling him on my lap. Curiously, he sniffed at my center console, at the overflow of candy, before he tapped the steering wheel with a dirty paw. I laughed softly as his bravery and interest grew, and he stumbled toward the door.

“Careful,” I told him, gently scolding. But he ignored me as he stumbled onto one of the buttons, pawing at it curiously. The window hummed as it lowered, and he leapt back, startled. I laughed again, holding him tighter as he tried to investigate the center console.

I tried to wrangle him as he moved onto the floorboard, trying to throw himself between my legs to see what my feet were doing. Grumbling to myself, I held him tighter to my chest as I drove through town. His tiny paw reached for the buttons again, and I swore he gave me a smug look before tapping one.

“You’re trouble already, aren’t you?” I mumbled.

After just a few minutes, I pulled into The Purrfect Care Clinic parking lot and sighed. I tapped my fingers along his boney spine, and he blinked up at me, looking more alert than he had been earlier. His shaking had already lessened, and he was acting more normal and less scared. But as I got out of the car and made my way inside, he huddled against me again.

I spoke with the receptionist, explaining the situation to her. We only waited a few minutes before we were called into an exam room.

The kitten tried to scramble out of my arms, wanting to explore, so I set him on the floor. I watched as he limped around the room, tentatively sniffing at everything. My phone vibrated, and I tugged it out of my pocket. I grinned when I saw the message.

RONAN:

Where are you? I’m heading home.

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