Startled, it takes a moment of fumbling to be sure I don’t drop my camera. If I do, I’m beyond fucked. The only reason this place wanted me was because of my photos. Without a camera, I’m….
You’re trash. You’re nothing.
I swing my hot gaze to his, fuming. It doesn’t matter that he looks surprised to see me, one leg still outstretched as if he’d frozen in place. I still go tense and still at the thought of him seeking me out.
I lurch upright and grab my bag, clutching it close, dipping my hand inside to find my knife. Startled by my movements, the cats both run away.
No—not running away.
Running toward Sebastian. Even the gray one darts out of the woods, making a beeline for him.
“For the record,” he starts, holding up his hands. “I did not follow you out here.”
I glare at him, both speechless and furious.
“But I am starting to wonder if maybe you’re following me,” he says, shoving his hand into the small side pocket of his backpack. He pulls out something metal and round. “Because I have a standing lunch date with these three sexy beasts.”
I gawk—yeah, gawk—as he pulls the tab on the can and the scent of tuna wafts through the air. The orange and black cat circle nearby, but the gray one goes right up to him and rubs all over the legs of his dark pants, tail winding around his ankle. He squats and rests the can on the ground before opening a second, and then a third. He shoves one toward the mama cat, who tentatively comes closer, but still not quite within reach. The black cat pushes her out of the way.
“Don’t be a dick,” he says, talking directly to the cats. “Abby is eating for a multitude—she is legion—so don’t be greedy,” he admonishes the black one. “I mean, you’re the one who knocked her up, after all.”
Wait. “You named them?” I blurt, even though I should be using the distraction to make my escape.
He glances up, giving me a view of his clear blue eyes. He looks me over, and it’s not like before. This is not an eye-fucking. It’s full of uncertainty and pique. I get the feeling he’s putting me through a test.
I must pass.
He lifts a shoulder in a loose shrug. “Sure. Gave them rightful Devil names. That’s Abbadon,” he points to the orange and white cat, “Hades,” the black cat, “and Lucy—you know, for Lucifer.” He runs his finger over her ear, and I notice the small half-moon. “I managed to trap Lucy last year, get her fixed and tagged. She’d already had a couple of litters and the animal rescue was able to re-home them.” He frowns down at Hades. “But the other two are skittish, I’ve been working to get him close enough to catch. I almost got them used to me before Christmas break, but I had to leave, so now we’re back to square one.”
It’s the most I’ve heard him speak, and although I hear what he’s saying, I’m mostly watching him. His movements, his expression, the way he jerks his head, flicking his hair from his eyes. I keep waiting for something to make him explode, holding the hilt of the knife, just in case. But out here, focused on the cats, scratching under Lucy’s chin, his whole demeanor is deceptively chill.
It doesn’t put me at ease, and I don’t try to hide my sneer. “So, what, you’re like some kind o
f cat savior?”
He gives me a weird look, something in his eyes shuttering. “I don’t know about that. Sometimes I need to get away from shit—take a walk. I came back here one day and found these guys.”
He stands and both Abby and I take a few steps back, keeping a wary eye on him. If he notices, he doesn’t say so, but he does pick up his backpack and look over at me. “Dr. Ross told me to apologize for what happened in class. You’ll learn pretty quick that she’s not the teacher you want to fuck around with. She’s savage.”
“Well, I guess it takes one to know one.”
His jaw tics and his eyes go tight for a moment, like he’s biting something back. “I can assure you that what happened in class today won’t happen again. Consider it a momentary lapse in judgment.”
I tighten my hand around the handle of my knife, still hidden in my bag. “I suspect you have a lot of those, don’t you?”
“I may struggle with impulsivity a bit.” His tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip. “Although some people find that to be one of my more endearing traits.”
“I’d love to meet one of those people.”
“You really would,” he says matter-of-factly. His eyes drop to my bag and he gestures with a nod. “Word to the wise; if you get caught with a fixed blade like that on campus, it’ll be a whole situation.”
I grind out, “I’ll take my chances.”
“Suit yourself, Sugar Voss.” I don’t like the way he smiles when he says it—all sly and dark-eyed, like we’re sharing a secret.
I’m saved from answering when, from across campus, the sound of a bell tolling marks the time. Afternoon classes are about to begin. I grab my boxed lunch and keep an eye on Sebastian as he collects the now-empty cans, tossing them into the dumpster. The cats dart back into the tree line and I keep a wide berth, walking in the grass, never once letting go of my knife. When I round the side of the building, I take off, practically feeling the weight of his stare as he lopes out behind me.
Maybe Sebastian was following me. Maybe he wasn’t. It doesn’t matter.