Page 76 of Whips and Chains
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh good. I’m not very good with bodily functions. Piss. Shit. Vomit. Gag.”
I rolled my eyes toward the ceiling. “Okay, good to know. Thank you. You can go now.”
“Or I can stay with you.”
A smile flickered at the corner of my mouth. “Why would you do that?”
“I just thought we should discuss the tiles. Truly hideous, don’t you think? They should get one of those renovation shows in here. They could put in a farm sink, maybe some wainscotting and vaulted ceilings…”
I could barely conceal my amusement. “Do you actually know what any of those things are?”
“No, I’m just saying words I hear them say on those shows a lot because I don’t want you to tell me to leave again.”
I sighed and leaned forward to unlock the stall door.
It creaked open to reveal X on the other side, arms crossed, leaning against the bathroom wall watching me. “Who was that guy?”
“An old foster brother.”
He studied my expression, and for once, was actually observant of what it meant. “I’m assuming you don’t want me to send him one of our joint Christmas cards this year?”
I couldn’t help my tiny smile becoming a big one. “We’re sending joint Christmas cards?”
“Well, duh. Of course. We’ll be married by then, and you’ll be Mrs. X and I’ll be Mr. Violet, and we’ll have adopted a rescue kitty named Harold who isreallyugly. But so ugly he’s kinda cute. You know? Harold is also really mean, but Reginald really needs a friend, so it has to happen. We’ll wear matching sweaters, even Harold and Reginald will have one, and we’ll be kissing beneath the mistletoe.” He winked at me. “And I’ll be grabbing your boob.”
I snorted on my laughter. “You’ve got it all planned out, huh? Very creative on the ugly kitty.”
He frowned at me and then pulled out his phone, scrolling through it. “No, seriously. I’ve already got our names on him. Look.”
He flipped his phone around. The little screen showed a nearby animal rescue website, and in the center, a photo of the most bedraggled, angry cat I had ever seen in my life. “Harold” was written beneath the photo, with an adoption date set for next week.
“He’s brand-new on the site. But don’t worry, I knew everyone would want him, so I got in there so fast. He’s definitely ours. They just need to do some vet checks and things first. They said we can pick him up next week.”
I stared down at the feral-looking cat that had a face I doubted even its mother loved.
There would be no one lining up to give this animal a home. Of that I was sure.
Nobody but X.
Because he saw beauty in things most people didn’t. And I kinda loved that about him.
I passed him back the phone. “He seems like a great cat. I’m not sure Reginald needs saving though. He has a pretty cushy life at the park.”
He put the phone back in his pocket. “You’re probably right. He also has no arms to wear a Christmas sweater, so he probably can’t be in the photo anyway.”
Laughter felt nice on my lips, but it faded away. “Travis would never be on my Christmas card list, whether Reginald is in our photo or not.”
X nodded thoughtfully. “You want me to kill him?”
For a single, horrifying minute, I realized I wanted to say yes.
The realization left me cold. I knew if I said yes, X would do it. It wasn’t just a joke to him, like it would have been with most other guys. If I told X I wanted Travis dead, then he would make it happen.
Then I would be responsible for ending a man’s life, even if I wasn’t the one who pulled the trigger or plunged the knife.
It would still be on me.
Just like Toby’s death was.
