Page 182 of Wicked Angel
“What do you see outside the door, when you open it?” Rory prompted. One of his cats, a kitten, jumped into his lap and I watched him stroke it.
It was so easy for him, caring for other creatures. Empathizing. Nurturing.
Feeling.
Maybe that was why I’d sometimes resented him so damn much.
“It’s really fucking stupid.”
“Then let’s be stupid for a minute. Indulge me.”
I sighed quietly.
He picked up the kitten and shoved it into my lap. “Hold the kitten, Johnny. It’s good for the nerves.”
I took it. It was so delicate and soft. And probably the cutest thing I’d ever held in my hands, gray stripes with white around its big golden eyes and a tiny tail. It was purring. “Where’d this one come from? Are they multiplying?”
“He’s new. His name is George.”
“That’s a dumbass name for a kitten, just so you know.”
“I named him after my late father-in-law.”
“Oh.”
“Purring heals, smart ass. It can heal you, too.”
“Yeah? Can I get a prescription for that?” I rubbed the kitten with my thumbs while it melted into my lap.
“What do you see outside the door?” Rory pressed, ignoring my smart ass question.
I groaned inwardly. I could hardly believe these stupid words were about to come out of my mouth. “There’s a moat.”
“A moat? Outside the wall?”
“Yup.”
He took a moment, like he was picturing this, or maybe calculating what this next layer of the fortress might mean. “How wide is it? Could you walk across it?”
“No.”
“Is there a bridge?”
“No.”
“Can you see what’s on the other side?”
“I can’t see anything. I just see a moat.”
“Then, could there be a drawbridge?”
“Why would there be a drawbridge?”
“Because maybe you’re not meant to stay in the fortress alone forever.”
I didn’t say anything.
He settled back in his chair. “And because maybe I had it wrong all those years ago. Maybe the next step in the boy’s evolution wasn’t to grow up, but to get curious. Maybe the curiosity precedes the growing up, and one naturally flows from the other.”
