Page 27
The slight bit of amusement in his eyes is frustrating, given the circumstances.
“Well, you don’t have to worry. I’m just feeding him, and I’ll be sending him on his way first thing in the morning.”
“You … you can’t just feed a cat and let it go. They come back! And they tell other cats that you’re a supplier, and then we have a yard full of cats that won’t leave. They’re like … a really shitty cold you can’t kick.”
“Are you suggesting I starve the cat?”
“No. I’m not. I’m just saying …”
“I should kick it?”
“Yes. I mean, no! You should call the humane society.”
“To have him properly euthanized?”
With a huff, I cross my arms and glance away to keep my anger from exploding to the surface. “They’d try to adopt him first. I’m sure he’ll end up in a good home.”
“And if he doesn’t, you’re okay with his death on your shoulders?”
“Why are you giving me a hard time?”
He tips his head just enough for me to catch a glimpse of the snake tattooed across his neck. “I’m sorry. Did you need something, Star Wars?”
Star Wars. I’m never going to live the T-shirt thing down with this guy.
“Yes. I do.” And yet, suddenly I can’t bring myself to mouth the words. I can’t even think to ask him for money right now, and I can feel my cheeks getting hotter by the second, at the prospect of asking.
The worst. The. Worst. Landlord in history. “To let you know I’m leaving … and … well, that’s it.”
“You plan to tell me every time you leave the house?”
“No. I just …. I’d feel a lot better about you staying here, if you could maybe give me a reference, or something. Just someone who can attest that you don’t kill people for a living.”
“My background check didn’t put you at ease?”
“A little, but … my son comes back tomorrow morning, and I just want to make sure I’m not doing something stupid.”
“Jackson.”
“What?”
“My colleague’s name is Jackson Faust.”
As he reels off a number, I tug my cellphone and open the notes app, jotting it down before I forget it. “Okay. I’ll wait until morning to call.”
“What if I kill you before then?”
I frown. “Not funny.”
“My apologies. And I’ll also apologize in advance for subjecting you to Jackson.”
“I’m sure he’s not that bad.”
“I’m sure you’ll change your mind after speaking with him. Now, if you don’t mind, I have to bathe this cat before I kick him.”
“I didn’t say … kick him. He’s cute.” I reach out to pet the kitten, whose little paws wrap around my fingers, pulling it to his teeth. “Ouch!”
“Probably still a little hungry.” Voss snatches my hand, as I draw it back, and examines my fingertip. His palms are warm and calloused and strong enough to crush my fingers. “Might want to wash that. I don’t know where this cat’s been.”
