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18

KEANE

After a couple days of nonstop rain, I was so ready to get out of the house and get some fresh air. One of the downsides of working from home was that there was no reason to go places most days. And with all the bad weather, I didn’t.

And now that I didn’t have bodyguards following me everywhere, there was a sense of freedom. My mate had meant well. He hadn’t been trying to be a dick. He loved me, had seen me harmed not once, but twice, and he wanted me safe. I could hardly be mad at him for that.

After a small breakfast of six eggs and oatmeal, I wrote Boaz a note letting him know where I was heading. Eating while pregnant was such a weird thing. There were times when I didn’t even want to think about food, others when I wanted everything I could get my hands on, others where I had a craving that was non-negotiable, and those like today when a half-dozen eggs served with a bowl of steamy oats sounded like the absolute perfect combination.

After getting dressed, I set out for the day. I didn’t have much planned—I was still in the exhaustion stage of pregnancy—but I needed to get out of the house, get some fresh air. And also, we needed tuna. Fine, it was me. I needed tuna.

As cliché as it was, tuna was exactly what my baby was craving. Tuna, tuna, and more tuna. How very feline of me. The human pregnancy food lists all stated to limit tuna while you were pregnant. The human list could suck it, because my cat couldn’t get enough of the stuff.

But my first stop was going to be the public library. There was a time I used to buy all my books. Back when I had a good job, that was. Now I borrowed them, and it worked out great.

I suspected that if I let my mate know I was wanting to start building on my collection, he’d make sure that happened. He was good like that—always looking out for me, always trying to give me what I needed. And now that I was pregnant, it was almost a flaw, because he was so doting I had to be careful. I couldn’t even hint at a craving without it showing up on my plate or in my bowl. I could only imagine the book situation if I asked for a trip to the bookstore.

I took a ride share to the library and went inside. Today was the first day of a two-day painting class I’d been eyeing. I was hardly an artist, but I loved to try new things. The teacher helped us blend our colors and get the base of our painting done. They used big, fancy words, but basically, we did what I called underpainting. We covered the canvas with the background, and we’d be putting our main item on later.

Mine was a truck that I took from their inspiration board, but others had houses or cabins—which I supposed were houses too, but they were in a different section of the board, and a few had animals. Animals seemed far outside my realm of painting skills, so I avoided all of those. A truck I could probably handle. Maybe. I’d find out next week.

After class was finished and my painting was on the drying rack, I headed to the new releases and found a mystery that looked pretty fun. There was someone who could talk to ghosts trying to solve a ghost’s murder, but somehow the ghost didn’t remember how they got killed. The plot was a little sus, but it sounded like fun, so I checked it out and put it in my bag and waited at the front door for the ride share.

I knew Boaz preferred that I had bodyguards with me. He was showing me his confidence and trust in me by letting me go alone and without all the tech tracking me. I didn’t want to break that trust, but also… I wasn’t quite ready to welcome bodyguards back into my life with open arms.

Ride shares felt like a good compromise to me. Driving myself meant that people might recognize my car, the one Boaz insisted on buying. Ride shares were sort of chaotic in their methodology. Up until you ordered your car, you didn’t know what kind of car was coming or when they'd be there. Everything was fairly random, which in my mind made them a lot safer than, let’s say, the bus where there were set times.

Still, there was a chance for something to go wrong, for someone to follow me. I tried not to worry about that, though. It wasn’t like I could stay inside forever.

The car was there when I reached my door, and I jogged to it and climbed in.

Grocery shopping was next, and as odd as it was for me to say, I was looking forward to it.

The elderly fox shifter driver made small talk, asking me if he had the right location. “Yeah, That’s the one. They have a sale on tuna.” And even if they didn’t, I was going to buy as much as I could get in the cart, which guaranteed that my cravings would be over by the time I got home. That seemed to be the way of things with this pregnancy.

He chuckled. “Yeah, it’s their can sale. I saw the flyer. My mate made a list… a long one. Did you know they have over a dozen different kinds of beans in those cans? Why does anybody need that many different kinds?”

“I don’t know—to mix things up?” Did he think I had the answer? Pork and beans was my idea of fancy legume cuisine.

“Well, according to my mate—” and the driver went off on the way his mate made chili and soup and even burgers out of the beans. They air-fried some to make their version of chips, baked brownies with them… you name it. Their mate was into it.

Even though the older man acted like he was complaining, I could hear the pride in his voice. “So maybe you’ll run into him there.”

After my short ride with him, I was really hoping I would.

“Well, if I see anybody filling up their cart with beans, I’ll be sure to say hi.”

I got out of the car, grabbed my cart, and headed inside. I didn’t really need much and did a quick perimeter of the store before heading to the canned goods. But just as I was about to turn toward the tuna, I saw someone I recognized out of the corner of my eye. And when I turned to get a better look, fear filled me.

I couldn’t remember where I’d seen him before, but it wasn’t good.

I reached to the back of my pants, remembering too late I hadn’t brought the gun I’d been trained on—the one I tried to take with me everywhere. But the library had a no-gun policy.

Crap.

Maybe I should’ve brought bodyguards.

The man looked at me, recognition crossing his face, before he pretended to reach for a box of macaroni on the end cap like he hadn’t just seen me. Then, as I turned down the aisle, he raced the other way.

And because I’m a bona fide bad decision maker, what did I do?

I didn’t call my mate. No, that would’ve made sense. I didn’t call his brothers either, because again—that would’ve been smart. I didn’t even ignore the whole thing and just put tuna in my cart. No. I followed the other shifter, who had abandoned his cart.

Why was he scared of me? Why was he leaving?

I kept my distance, pretending to be looking at different things until he walked out the door. I counted to fifteen and followed him, thinking maybe I could get a driver’s license plate number or something.

But I didn’t, because he didn’t get into a car. He walked down the street.

I followed him, trying to stay unnoticed. I thought I’d succeeded… until I turned the corner and found myself in an alleyway. Seconds later, the clacking of boots on the pavement told me people were coming up behind me.

It was like that first night, where I’d been trapped. Only this time, I wasn’t hidden behind a dumpster. I wasn’t there accidentally. I’d been lured.

I was the prey, and they were coming to get me.

I stopped, turned on my feet, made sure my legs were in position to keep my balance. I wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

Only when I finally met their eyes, there was a group of them—and each one had a gun pointed at me.

My fists weren’t going to do shit here.

“Kitty, kitty,” one of them said. “We’re gonna go on a trip. You can do this the easy way, or you can do this the kneecap-less way. Which do you choose?”

As if there was a choice to be had.

Sorry, Boaz. I really am. I should’ve let you keep all the spy gear on my phone. Heck, I should’ve let you put an AirTag on me.

And now? Now I was about to see my last day.

Because these guys… they meant business.

I was fucked.