Page 72 of Bad Seed
“Sounds perfect.” She leans over to kiss me. I’m midway planning what all to pack when I return the affection. With a little smile, Sadie resumes cooking. “I should have some time in January.”
My whole body twists under me. “January?” No. That’s too far away. “I thought we’d leave…” Tomorrow might scare her. “Next week.”
“Next week?” She damn near scoffs at the thought. “Just leave? Like that? Without putting in a PTO request with my boss like six months in advance? During the holidays.”
“It’s October,” I point out.
“Yeah. Hunting season is like super-Christmas right now. Then it’s real Christmas. I can’t leave. They’d fire me. Probably out of a cannon.”
Damn it. I forgot about that fucking job. Leaving her to return to her cooking as she talks about an annoying manager or customer at work, I start to tear at my hair. By January this will all be over—in the worst way. I can’t let her stay here, not when any of them could be watching. I need to get her away.
Of course.
“Move in with me.”
The spoon clangs against the side of the pan, spins off, and hits the floor.
“Wha…?” A dumbstruck Sadie pivots to stare at me.
All I can think about is keeping her safe. Here, I can protect her. “There’s a ton of room,” I say.
“Uh…uh…yeah, I suppose there is?”
“You wouldn’t have to deal with that weird roommate who steals flowers.” My brain is rolling for any way to make this work. “And you wouldn’t have to pay rent anymore. You could quit your job to focus on what you really love.”
“Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Wait. You want me to quit my job and move in with you?”
It’s perfect. Without that job, I can whisk her off to Mexico. We can hide out for a month or two, wait for this mob war to blow over, then start a new life together. “Wouldn’t you want to live with me?” I ask, damn near beaming at my genius.
Sadie looks less than impressed. She keeps wringing her hands over the handle of a spatula while making little P sounds with her lips.
My world starts to crack.
“Don’t you want to be with me?”
“It’s…it’s just that… I, that is…”
The kitchen door swings open and fifteen pounds of orange leaps onto the counter. Sadie’s eyes drift off of me and she exclaims, “Is that Astin?”
My cat freezes like he’s been caught. But as she holds out her fingers to him, he bumps his nose into them for a test, then goes for a full free scratch. “Oh my god, he’s so cute. You are just the fluffiest little kitty in the world! I’ve been wanting to meet you for so long.”
And if you lived with me, you could see him every day. Probably at meals when he tries to take a bite off your plate.
“Sadie?” I whisper, needing an answer.
She’s obsessed with Astin, scratching up his cheeks just the way he likes while telling him how regal he is. My dumb cat looks like he’s in paradise, and she looks absolutely terrified.
“Sadie…?” I brush my fingers down her elbow.
“He purrs like a mustang. I love it!”
You need to understand. You’re in danger. If you stay with me, I can protect you. But if you stay with me, you’re also in danger.
She lets go of Astin who starts to sniff around the chopped garlic. Wary eyes turn to me. “Yes?”
I’m not who you think I am.
I’m an eggplant.
