Page 64 of Reaper and Ruin

I turned to X. “Do you think he’s going to be as ugly as the photos made him look?”

X leaned in conspiratorially. “I saw a video. He hissed at a toddler and then fell off a shelf.”

“Oh my God.”

X got a dreamy expression on his face, like he was mentally replaying the video. “It was love at first sight.”

When the woman came back, she was holding a small, beige-ish bundle of rage wrapped in a towel. It hissed and squirmed in her arms, and the woman fought to keep a hold of it. He lunged his teeth toward her hand, and she squeaked. “I’m just going to put him down here, so he has a bit of room…” She let him go then fled to the perceived safety of her desk, half crouched behind it like she was afraid Harold might come after her in retaliation.

He didn’t. He just froze to the spot, glaring at the woman like he might be plotting her demise.

Harold was…a lot. One eye slightly askew, like it had been damaged at some point and now didn’t work properly. A torn ear, half his tail missing, and fur like he’d lost a fight with a lawnmower.

His disgust with the woman waning, he turned his attention in our direction. He blinked at me. Slowly. In the kind of crooked way his dodgy eye allowed for.

Then purred.

I raised an eyebrow.

He stretched out one paw, gently, almost politely, even, toward me.

I’d never had a pet. I’d wanted one for as long as I could remember, but my foster parents had barely kept their human occupants alive. I would have been flogged if I’d dared to bring an animal home. And Toby had been allergic, so once we movedin together, any idea of keeping an animal had slowly faded away.

But now the desire to hold and love one came rushing back. A tiny piece of my ruined childhood mending inside me.

Despite the clear threat to my life, I reached for Harold instinctively. The moment I had him in my arms, he butted his head against my chin and started rumbling like a tractor engine.

X’s jaw dropped. “You little liar,” he said to Harold. “I watched your YouTube compilation. You drew blood.”

The shelter woman beamed. “Wow. He likes you. That’s…unusual.”

X reached out a finger. “Hey, buddy,” he crooned. “You remember me, right? I sent snacks. And a video for you to watch at night before you fell asleep so you’d get to know my voice.” He shot a look at the woman. “You played that for him, right?”

The woman cringed and shrugged a shoulder.

X had already lost interest in her response, and his finger was closing the gap between him and the cat in my arms.

Harold’s eyes narrowed at X’s finger. He hissed. Violently.

X recoiled. “Traitor!”

I burst out laughing as Harold snuggled closer, curling his claws into my sweater like he owned me now.

“He’s made his choice,” I said, rubbing my face on his head, then instantly regretting it because he smelled horrible up close.

“I’m the one who paid your adoption fee!” X cried at the cat.

Harold bared his teeth.

X’s mouth dropped open. “You ungrateful geriatric gremlin!”

Harold snapped his teeth in warning.

X shrieked and backed up so far he bumped into the woman, the two of them cowering behind the desk.

“Take it back!” he yelled, then pointed a finger in Harold’s direction. “Reginald would never betray me like this!”

Harold hissed again from my arms but didn’t try to jump. He just looked deeply, smugly satisfied with himself.