Eat Crow (Cheap Thrills 6)

Pointing at the animal, Logan raised his eyebrows at me. “See? Move your damn hand away.”

Ignoring him, I continued stroking the placid animal, even going so far as to scratch its belly when it rolled onto its back.

Then something occurred to me. “I’m going to have to go to the store.”

“Yeah,” he agreed distractedly. “I’m looking up what you need to get rid of the smell of ammonia from the attic. Baking soda seems to be a popular one, but there are sprays with enzyme things in them that do the job as well. If not, you’re probably going to have to—”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” I interrupted, frowning at how much work it was going to be on top of what I already had to do. “Okay, I’ll add the sprays and some of those bad smell-absorbing things to the list of stuff I need to get.”

Looking confused, he asked, “What do you need to get at the store?”

“Well, cat stuff. I can’t have a cat without food, a bed, toys, and whatever else they need. Hey, can you look up what cats need online, please? And Doyle’s as grumpy as Pops was, so see if they know what I can get for him. He’s only two and a half, but he acts like he’s ninety.”

“You need to go to the store to get cat shit?” he drawled. “For a feral cat?”

“Stuff,” I corrected, “and he’s hardly feral.”

At that moment, he was purring and rubbing his face on the hoodie as I scratched his stomach.

“Check under his nails, and you’ll find my flesh and blood from where he tried to kill me.”

Rolling my eyes, I made a point of holding a paw and pressing, so the nails came out. Seeing the length of them, though, I winced and let go again.

Probably best not to draw attention to the tiger length talons.

“I need a name for you,” I said, watching him watching me. Were those song lyrics?

“Diablo?” Logan suggested, glaring down at us.

“Bunny?”

“Fuck no. That thing kills those poor animals, you’ll give it blood lust or something. Lucifer?”

“Tinky-wink?”

“Mephistopheles?”

Raising my head, I looked over my shoulder to see him looking at his phone. “What’s that? A flower?”

“Another name for Satan,” he muttered. “Beelzebub?”

“Be serious, will you,” I snapped. “I don’t even know if it’s a him. How do I find that out?”

“I’m being very serious,” he assured me. “Look between its legs. If it has a dick, it’s a boy.”

“Oh, well, I never thought of that,” I said sarcastically but got up onto my knees to look at the area the cat was proudly displaying to the world. “Wow, you’re not bashful, are you? Look at you letting it all sway in the breeze.”

Squinting, I turned my head to the side, then back again. The only one I had as a point of reference was Doyle, and I couldn’t say I’d ever looked closely at his crotch. There were laws against that type of thing, weren’t there?

“Can you look up what a cat penis looks like?”

“Hell no.”

Turning my head to the other side, I made a choice. “I think it’s a boy that’s been neutered. Aw, baby, did somebody do mean things to your poor body?”

The cat meowed and purred even louder, apparently loving the sympathy.

“In that case, I’m going with Prince of Darkness for him,” Logan mumbled. “I’ve got a list of cat shit you need here. You getting a litter tray for it?”