Sleet Kitten: Book One of the Sleet Series

The ticket I sent to Kitten was for the seat next to my mama. The same seat Kitten sat in the first time she came to see me play. A seat that I can find in a heartbeat. A seat that remained empty the entire game.

My mama was in her usual spot. I told her I’d be giving that other ticket to Kitten, so she knew who would be joining her. But Kitten didn’t come. And every time I looked over, my mama just cheered harder. Like her cheering might distract me from the fact that my girl didn’t show up to my game.

When I first saw that open seat, I was worried. Then as the game went on, I became annoyed. Now that the game is done, and she never showed, I’m worried again. I don’t want to be one of those people who automatically think of the worst-case scenario. I’m trying to stay positive, telling myself that she’s alright. That she’s not lying in a ditch somewhere. She just didn’t come. 

She also didn’t answer my call this morning, or the text I sent this afternoon. If I were a betting man, I’d say she’s still upset over those photos with Lacy. And – honestly – I don’t blame her. If I saw pictures of her and some guy, and that guy was touching her, and they had a history of getting naked together, I’d get arrested. I’d get arrested because I would lose my ever-loving shit, find the guy, and beat him to near death just for having the audacity to touch what’s mine. And she is. Kitten is mine. But I need her to talk to me, so that I can prove it.

And yes, I’m well aware that I could have avoided this whole mess if I’d told Kitten about Lacy from the get-go. Had I known they met each other in the mall, I would’ve told her everything. I don’t blame Kitten for not telling me about their meeting. It’d be an awkward thing to bring up. And it’d seem like she was digging for details, no matter how casually it was mentioned. Not that I’d care about any of that, but I can see why she didn’t say anything.

 I’m sure she was waiting for me to tell her about Lacy, but I didn’t. And then she sees pictures of us together. And then I’ve been so busy that I haven’t even seen her since the night we shared together. I need to talk to her, in person. And unless I can find her tomorrow afternoon, it’ll have to wait, because we fly out again tomorrow night. Goddamnit.

“Mr. Wilder!”

I’m walking through my lobby, so distracted that I almost passed Henry without saying hello.

“Hi, Henry.” I keep walking, but I hear the slap of shoes quickening behind me. Halting, I turn to see Henry jogging my way.

“Mr. Wilder, I’m glad I caught you.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No. Well, yes. I’m afraid so.”

Henry looks so nervous, I’m worried he might vomit. I place a hand on his shoulder. “What is it?”

“It’s just…  I didn’t put it together… then Miss Lacy was brought down last night.”

“Look, it’s not your fault. She’d kept a key all these years. I didn’t know she had it.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I’m talking about Miss Katelyn.”

A cold sensation works it’s way up my fingertips, towards my heart. “What about Katelyn?”

“I didn’t know Miss Lacy was upstairs. I never would have sent her up if I’d known. I just feel so awful. She looked absolutely devastated.”

My knees want to buckle, and my lungs are working hard not to seize. “Katelyn was here last night?”

“Yes. I’m so sorry.” He’s shaking his head and looks on the verge of tears. “She came in right around seven. I greeted her and sent her up. My shift had just started. I didn’t know you weren’t home. And I certainly didn’t know that Miss Lacy was upstairs.”

“Lacy was already in my condo?”

“Well, I can’t say for sure. But Miss Katelyn came back down a few minutes later. I tried to call after her, but she…” He glances away like he doesn’t want to say the next part. “She was sobbing, sir.”

No. No. No. No.

“I’m sorry, sir. I tried to stop her. I tried to stop her, but she was running.”

No. 

My Kitten. My poor, sweet Kitten.