The Takeover (The Miles High Club #2)(64)

My face falls as I process her words. “What?” I look around and catch sight of the mangy cat sitting on the couch. We lock eyes. “Is that a possibility?” I call.





Silence.


“Claire?”





Silence.


“I’m allergic to cats, Claire. I need to sleep with you,” I call. “In your bed.”

Her bedroom door slams.

I scratch my head as I stare at the cat. He stares back. I point at him. “You come near me while I sleep, Muff Cat, I’m putting you outside,” I whisper. “You’ll be bear food.”

I spread my blankets out on the couch and put the pillow down. Damn this. I want to go home, but I want to speak to Claire in the morning more. I climb in and wriggle around as I try to get comfortable.

Fuck, this couch is made of concrete.

Two hours later

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick.

“What the hell?” I whisper as I glare at the clock on the wall. What kind of sick fuck has a clock that ticks this loud? No wonder everyone’s crazy around here.

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick.

I can’t take it anymore . . . I’m at a breaking point.

“That’s it.” I throw the blankets off and sit up in a rush. I stand on the couch and take the clock off the wall. “You’re going in the trash, motherfucker.” I storm out to the kitchen, clock under my arm, and look around in the dark. “I can’t see shit.” I flick on the light and walk over to the back door and open it in a rush.

It’s pitch black and eerily quiet. I peer out. “Where’s the trash can?”





Hmm.


I hear a noise and then a bang, and I frown as I look out into the backyard. “Who’s there?”





Silence.


Shit . . . this is fucking creepy. I close the door and go back into the house. I’m not risking my life for a ticking time bomb—no chance.

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick.





Although . . .


“Shut up, shut up,” I whisper as I shake it. I stare down at the stupid clock as it taunts me. I imagine myself throwing it hard against the wall and it smashing into a thousand pieces.

Tick, tick, tick, tick.

That’s it. I can’t take it anymore. I look around the kitchen for somewhere quiet, somewhere that will shut this thing up, and I see the perfect plan.

Diabolical.

I open the freezer and stuff the clock in there and slam the door. I smile as I dust my hands together. “That’s taken care of you.”

I walk out into the living room and stand at the bottom of the stairs. I wonder what she would do if I just sneaked up there for a little bit of spooning. I smile as I imagine myself slipping into her bed.

I’m missing her.

I come back to earth with a thud, and I roll my eyes. I know that’s not going to happen.

I lie back down on the couch and nestle in as I try to get comfortable.

One hour later

“Meow.”

I scrunch my eyes shut . . . no, make it stop.

Purr . . . purr . . . purr. “Meow.” I try to block it out. “Meow.”

Oh hell, a night in this godforsaken place is worse than being on Survivor.

“Meeeooowww.”

“What?” I whisper angrily as I sit up in a rush. “What the fuck do you want, Muff Cat?”

Purr, purr, purr. The cat jumps on top of me, and I wince. It crawls onto my lap and sits there.

“What?” I snap.

The cat looks up at me.

“There aren’t a thousand other places to sit in this house? You have to fucking sit on me?”

“Meow.”

“Shut the fuck up.” I push it off me and lie back down and turn my back to it.

“Meow.”

I close my eyes tight, and I feel something hitting my face. I open my eyes to see the cat tapping me with its paw. “Are you serious?” I whisper. “Fuck off, Muff Cat.”

“Meow.”

Oh hell, the wizard is probably sleeping pretty at camp. My eyes snap open as I have a realization.





His bed is empty.


Yes, I’ll sneak up there and sleep in his bed. Great idea. I gather my blankets and pillows and make my way upstairs and creep down the hall with the flashlight on my phone.

Must be this room, the only one with the door open.

I shine my torch in, and an empty single bed comes into view. Perfect.

I close the door and climb into bed. It’s comfortable and warm. I find myself instantly relaxing and slowly drifting off to sleep.

I hear a scratch at the door. “Meow.”

I put my pillow over my head. “Shut. Up.”





This is unbearable.


I roll over and inhale deeply. Finally I’m relaxed.

Sleep is a wonderful thing. It’s morning, but I don’t care. I’m too exhausted.

I think I got two hours at the most.

I snuggle back in, and I get a strange feeling that someone’s watching me.

I open one eye. The wizard is standing over me; the look on his face is murderous.

“What the hell are you doing in my bed?” he growls.