Софи Келли - Hooked On A Feline

chapter 21

One of the nurses found a set of scrubs for me. They were a bit big, but they were clean and I didn’t have to leave in one of those gowns that flapped open in the back. Owen was stretched out on the middle of the backseat of Marcus’s SUV, asleep with one paw over his nose.

“I can’t believe he texted you,” I said.

Marcus shrugged. “He can disappear whenever he feels like it. Texting doesn’t seem like that big of a stretch.”

“Why did you text me in the first place? You always call.”

“I did call,” he said as he unlocked the passenger door and helped me get settled on the seat. “It went to voice mail. I’m guessing Quinn turned off the ringer as well.”

Owen lifted his head, murped hello and came from the backseat to the front, settling himself on my lap. He nuzzled my chin and I stroked his fur.

“You were very brave,” I told him, “and very smart.”

Marcus leaned down and kissed the top of my head. “So were you,” he said.

When we pulled into the driveway, Hercules came around the side of the house as though he’d been listening for the sound of the SUV. I opened the car door and Owen jumped from my lap to the ground. Marcus came and helped me to my feet. I leaned down over his protests and picked up Hercules. He studied my face, green eyes narrowed.

“I’m fine,” I said, kissing his furry head. “You saved us. Thank you for telling Marcus where we were.”

“Mrr,” he said, his nose touching mine.

“I love you, too,” I whispered.

We made our way around the house to the back door with Owen leading the way. Marcus unlocked the door and I had the feeling he would have carried me into the kitchen if I’d let him.

“I’m all right,” I said, reaching up to put my hand to his cheek. “I knew you’d find me.”

He pressed his lips together before he spoke. “I thought he was going to throw you over the side of the gully,” he said, a rough edge to his voice.

“He was. But I had a plan.”

He looked at me for a long moment. Then he started to laugh, wrapping both arms tightly around me. “I love you,” he said.

I felt my throat get tight at the thought that I might never have heard those words again. “I love you, too,” I whispered.

Marcus had to head back to Wisteria Hill and he had no intention of leaving me alone even though I protested that I had Owen and Hercules. Turned out, he’d already called Rebecca. She arrived at the door with one of her poultices for the tub, some poached salmon for the boys and a basket of still warm blueberry muffins.

Marcus kissed me twice, told Rebecca to call if I needed anything and instructed Owen and Hercules to watch me. Then he left.

“Oh, sweet girl, I am so glad you’re all right,” Rebecca said, and I saw the gleam of unshed tears in her eyes. She took my hands in hers and turned them over to examine the scraped-raw skin. I saw her wince. She eyed my forehead. “Does that hurt?” she asked.

I shook my head. “Not very much. They gave me some pills at the hospital.”

She reached up and brushed my hair back off of my face. Something about that simple gesture made me start to tremble.

“Jonas killed Leitha,” I said in a voice that trembled, too. “He killed Mike. Mike.”

“But he didn’t kill you,” she said.

I started to cry and she folded me into her arms and I cried for everyone who was lost and everyone who was still here.

I woke up looking worse than I felt. I discovered Marcus in the kitchen making coffee with two furry helpers with suspiciously fishy breath. All three of them were insistent that I needed to stay home.

I didn’t put up much of an argument. Marcus went out to feed the cats at my insistence. Maggie arrived with a cream for my bruises—Rebecca had been teaching Maggie the things Rebecca herself had learned from her own mother for quite some time now. Owen was overjoyed to see her. She praised both cats for their resourcefulness and bravery.

“I think you’re part cat yourself,” she said, hugging me as though she thought I might break. “You’ve used up at least three or four of your nine lives.”

I couldn’t stop thinking about Lachlan. Marcus had told me that he was with Johnny and Ritchie and Elena Gonzalez. The band had closed ranks around him. Eloise had defied her doctor’s orders about flying and would be arriving in the late afternoon. After supper Marcus and I were going to share the details of the story that weren’t public knowledge with them all, including the truth about Lachlan’s parentage. I was trying not to think about how painful that conversation was going to be, but secrets were why all of this had happened. Secrets were why Mike and Leitha—and Jonas—were dead.

I was sitting in the backyard in the sunshine just before lunch, with my leg propped up on an overturned laundry basket, while Maggie and Owen picked tomatoes, when Harrison and Harry came around the side of the house.

I started to get up but the old man raised a hand. “Don’t even think about moving,” he said.

I smiled up at him. “What are you doing here?” I asked.

“I wanted to see for myself that you’re all right.”

“I’m fine, I promise.”

For a long moment Harrison didn’t say anything. He took in the bandage on my leg, the stitches on my forehead and the various scrapes and bruises that were visible. Then he shook his head. “I’m so damn sorry for getting you involved in all of this,” he said.

I was shaking my head before he had all the words out. “No, no, no. Nothing that happened is your fault. Mike was my friend, too.” I put one hand on my chest. I thought about Jonas dragging me toward the edge of the gully. Those could have been the last moments of my life. They had been the last moments of Jonas’s life. I took a breath. “What I did was my choice. What Jonas did was his.”

One month and three days later, I was backstage at the Stratton Theatre, which was sold out for the Stars and Garters burlesque revival.

“They sound like a rowdy bunch,” Maggie said as we peeked out at the crowd. She grinned. “This is going to be fun.”

True to her promise to Roma, she was taking part in the show. She wore fishnets, high heels and a very short, barely there frilly white dress, and she was carrying a shepherd’s hook.

“Every guy out there is going to lose their mind over you,” I said. “The Little Bo-Peep in my book of Mother Goose stories did not look like this.”

Mary was acting as mistress of ceremonies. She passed us all in black satin, carrying a huge feathered headdress like they’d wear in a show in Vegas. “It’s not too late to be onstage, Kathleen,” she said over her shoulder.

“I already did my part,” I called after her.

Roma peeked out at the crowd, then grabbed my arm. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” she asked. We were about fifteen minutes from the curtain going up.

I laughed. “As my mother likes to say, ‘If you have to dance with a bear, put on your high heels and tango.’ ”

“I take it that means yes?” Roma said.

I hugged her. “Times three!”

There were hoots and good-natured catcalls and waves of applause for each act. It was clear the show was a hit. I headed down to the dressing room to check on what Mary called our showstopper.

I’d taken two steps into the room when Brady grabbed my arm. “My shirt is missing half the buttons,” he said.

“Your shirt is fine,” I said. “Just put it on.”

I clapped my hands. “You have five minutes, everyone.”

“Kathleen, I can’t go out in public in this outfit,” Harry said in a low voice. His shirt was just like the one Brady had been complaining about and like Brady he didn’t have it on.