Page 24 of Addicted Lies

I grab him by the collar, and his eyes widen with surprise. “She was being polite. I’m not sonice.”

The kitten hisses behind me again, and Billie awkwardly pulls at my shoulder. “Ford, it’s fine. Not everything has to end in violence.”

The bouncer tries to break my grip but can’t. Shit fucking bouncer. Another two bouncers come out to assist, but Billie stands in front of them, the box with the kitten in it propped on her hip. “Don’t fucking touch him. He’s crazy,” she warns with a brilliant smile. And I can’t help but smirk. Then she turns to me. “Ford, let’s take Felix home.”

“Felix?” I question. She shoves the bouncer back into the wall.

Billie’s already walking toward my car, and I’m grappling between the need to get her jacket or following after her. Her attention span is shorter when she’s drunk. She goes to open the door and sets the alarm off. I curse under my breath.

“Ford,” she whines, and I rush over to her. Why do I feel like tonight is going to be a nightmare? It’s been a very long time since I’ve seen Billie this drunk. If ever.

“That cat isn’t com?—”

She drops into the passenger seat, slams the door behind her, then waits patiently for me to join her.

I stare at my car that’s basically been hijacked by a very drunk Billie…and Felix the fucking cat.

My teeth grind as I conclude that there is no reasoning with Billie right now. If anything, she’ll start kicking and screaming, and I don’t have it in me to pry the stray from her hands. It’s that fucking cat’s lucky night.

When I get in the car, she’s already tuned the radio to some classical music, which is very different from the heavy metal I usually listen to when I’m tattooing. When I notice she doesn’t have her seat belt on, I reach over to buckle her in. The kitten hisses and swipes at my arm, and I curse.

“Felix, no!” Billie reprimands. “Gosh, he’s cute, though, isn’t—” She hiccups. “We need to get some cat food on the way home.”

I turn to face her. “My home?”

“Well, duh. Felix can’t come to mine. Ivy’s allergic, remember?” she says as if I’m too slow. My jaw clenches, yet I find myself pulling away from the curb.

“I’ve never had a pet before,” she singsongs, and I side-eye her, still perplexed that she wants this kitten but thinks bringing it tomyhome is the solution.

“I’m more of a dog person,” I admit.

She looks at me and then angles her head so her loose curls fall to one side. “I would’ve thought you were more of a cat person.”

“Why?” I’m not sure if I want the answer.

“You’re independent, just like a cat, and cats are sneaky, doing their own thing. You do what you want and stick to the shadows.” She hiccups again. “Fuck, did we get my coat?” she asks, and I curse under my breath. She’s so drunk, and the only reason I didn’t bust my way through the club doors is because I was chasing after her.

The cat circles the box a few times and then lies down. I envy how comfortably it sits in her lap and the way she looks at it adoringly.

How the fuck am I so jealous over a cat?

“Does Dutton know you’re out?” I ask, my grip tightening on the steering wheel.

She pouts at me. “I’m not just Dutton’s little sister, you know.” I try not to smirk at her tone. For all her fiery temper, I must confess I find the brattiness in her…cute. She’s always trying to step out from her brother’s shadow and defying the idea that she’s a princess. But she very much acts like a bratty little princess sometimes. “And, yes, sort of. He’s busy with Posie tonight. Ivy and I went out to celebrate. I don’t need a permission slip.”

That’s news to me. Dutton monitors her every move, and while he’s in town, it heightens the risk of her being found at my house. Then again, I’m sure he’d be appreciative of me collecting her in the state she’s in.

So I carefully ask, “What are you celebrating?”

That big smile breaks over her face again. “I got a job as a junior accountant at Aunty Rya’s law firm.”

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. I’m not shocked Billie was able to find work so quickly. She’s bright and personable. She can work a room like it’s nobody’s business. But I am surprised by the fact that she got a job with Rya Monti. “Congratulations.”

Part of me wants to ask what kind of night she had. More specifically, how many men were floating around them? But I suppress my desire for the answer. We’re just fucking, and the way she’s staring lovingly at that kitten, tonight is not the night.

My phone rings, and Eli’s name shows up on the screen. I place my finger to my lips as I answer via the car’s Bluetooth. “We have a problem.” It’s the first thing he says.

“Where?” I ask.

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