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I wasn’t aware that a growl had escaped me until her head whipped up, her eyes tiny with her pain as she squinted at me, unsure why I was making that sound.
“He hit you?” I asked.
She dropped one of the bottles into her lap, using both her hands to open the one she wanted, shaking a pill into her hand, then throwing it into her mouth with a sip of water.
“I’m okay,” she said, pressing her hands into her eyes again.
She was anything but okay, but she wasn’t exactly in a place where I should impress upon her just how bad this was that they were in her place waiting for her.
“Can I get you anything else?” I asked. “Cold compress? Those pain strips?”
“Coffee?” she asked, back to rocking.
“I can do that,” I agreed, even if I was dubious about her fancy machine. I made my way back out, figuring out the buttons, then getting some espresso dripping.
I didn’t imagine she’d want cookie syrup when she was being sick, so I opted to just put a little sugar and milk into it instead, then brought it back to her.
She cradled it between her hands, taking short sips here and there, likely not wanting to throw it—and her rescue medicine—up.
Feeling useless, I moved behind her, sitting off the edge of the tub, and reaching out toward her shoulders, gently rubbing at the tension in her neck and shoulders, figuring that couldn’t be helping anything.
Slowly, she stopped rocking, her breathing going a little less frantic.
“How about you go try to get a little sleep?” I asked, fingers going to her scalp, rubbing light circles. “See if that takes it the rest of the way away?”
“I can’t—“
“I’ll stay,” I assured her. “Trust me, baby, no one is getting past me to get to you.”
That seemed to mollify her, and she let me help her up and lead her to her bed, where I pulled the covers up around her in the dark.
“Wait!” she said, shooting up, then wincing hard as the movement seemed to make pain slice into her brain.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Kevin,” she said, eyes going panicked.
“Your cat?” I asked.
“The door was open…”
“I will find Kevin,” I told her. “Just rest. I’ll find him,” I assured her. I didn’t care if I had to bring my fucking crew off their jobs to look for him, I’d find the cat.
“Okay,” she agreed, rolling onto her back and pressing her arm hard against her forehead.
I closed her bedroom door most of the way, then made my way around her apartment, flicking on lights, and looking around for the cat.
He wasn’t on any of his tree stands or beds.
I made my way into her spare room that was set up as an office. It looked like Elizabeth was some sort of art fanatic, judging by the dozens of canvases she had leaning against the walls.
Kevin was nowhere to be found in there either, though.
Concern growing, I moved toward the door, unlocking it, and looking out into the hall. But he was nowhere to be seen.
I found it hard to believe that he would have been able to find his way into the elevator or the stairwell, so I made my way back into the apartment.
I was about to lose hope when I pressed open her bedroom again to check on her, and found a mound of black fur curled up by her feet.