Page 9 of Feline Good

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Grief called to her like a monster taunting her with its claws hitched deep into her heart. Maya grunted, knocking her black boot into the metal back door as the deadbolt stuck and got hung on the box in the door frame.

Using both hands, she twisted and jerked at the key, back and forth, trying to get the lock to disengage.

“I’ve always hated this stupid, fucking lock!” The frustrated words burst from her lips in equal parts aggravation and sorrow. Maya kicked her boot into the door with a groan sticking in her throat before resting her forehead against the cold metal.

She needed something to take her anger out on, because god forbid she actually face her problems and own up to her own guilt.

Uncle Malak’s favorite phrase flashed through her head like a billboard sign, accompanied by a vision of his tanned, stern face, a look of disapproval stamped on his features. Maya had earned that look quite often.

Now was the only time she feared she deserved it.

Never give up, girl.

Most would assume that girl was an unaffectionate name for someone’s niece. Maya, on the other hand, cherished the nickname that had stuck ever since she’d been little. She hadn’t been related by blood to Uncle Malak, but it was all the same. Maya loved him like a dad, and he’d been as good as any.

It hurt in a brutal way that she’d never hear that little nickname again.

Channeling her grief into anger— at herself, the world, the god or gods who would dare take him from her, she tried one last time to unlatch the deadbolt.

It unlocked with a soft snick, as if all the strength she’d used had been unnecessary and it was just waiting for her to hold her tongue just right.

But now she actually had to push the door open, and that was another challenge she didn’t know if she had the strength for.

Calling up another memory of Uncle Malak during one of their many training sessions, she pushed forward.

“Never give up. You’ll only lose if you lay down and let them win.”

The door clanged shut behind her, taking the slice of morning sunlight with it, leaving her in the darkness.

That was fine with Maya. She’d already been there a while.

Ignoring the tremble in her hands, she hung her keys on the familiar hook immediately to her left in the small foyer. Ahead, she could see the wall of the kitchen and the beginning of a hallway that would lead to the main bar area to the right. On her left, the door to the office called to her. The silence in the building seemed loud, if such a thing was possible.

The keys settled against the wall, listing back and forth on the keyring, almost mocking her.

You did this.

Her bottom lip trembled as she sucked in a sharp breath before stepping forward. Her steps on the hardwood floor echoed around the foyer, and all her resolve broke as she saw the office.

It looked untouched, as if Uncle Malak was still there, in the bar somewhere, and would come around the corner at any second to wrap her in a bear hug and swing her around like the little girl he loved. Ready to forgive her, let the past rest, and welcome her with open arms.

Instead, her gasping, sorrowful breaths sounded thunderous in the room as she studied the messy papers, the pens, even a mug of coffee still sitting on the corner.

It no longer steamed though, long forgotten and left alone.

Kind of like Maya.

The tiniest meow pulled her attention back around, and she turned to find three black cats sitting in the doorway, as if they’d been waiting for her to notice them.

“Oh my god, you’re still here!”

Her exclamation was met with happy mews as she dropped to the ground and sat criss-cross, patting her thighs for them to join her, desperation leaking into her tone as she cooed at them.

There was no hesitation as they came to her, rubbing their furry little bodies along her arms as she reached out to pet all of them. Her tears flowed freely seeing the cats again. She’d grown up with them, ever since they appeared one day after her parents died. At the time, she’d clung to them, desperate for comfort as she mourned her parents.

Maya did the exact same thing now, stroking their soft fur and cooing at them as they fought for space in her lap. Giggling when they smacked at each other or shoved one out of the way, she realized something.