Page 78 of No Need to Run
Quit drooling and let her in.
“Hey,” I reply, stepping back and gesturing for her to come inside.
This is fine.No need to be nervous. Everything is completely?—
A black blur darts across the floor to where she stands.
Oh no.
“Mr. Pickles?—”
But it’s too late.
He skids to a stop by her ankle boots.
I watch, horrified, as he gazes up at her.
I point at him like that’s going to do anything. “Don’t. Move.”
“He’s not,” she says.
“He doesn’t like new people.”
“I’m not new,” Violet says calmly. “I’ve been here before.”
I go still.
Slowly, I turn my head toward her.
“…You’ve what?”
She sets her bag down as if she didn’t just casually drop something insane into the conversation, then waves her hand. “Not important.”
Not important.
My brain immediately disagrees.
Unfortunately, Mr. Pickles chooses that exact second to introduce himself to Violet by standing and moving closer, as if he’s deciding her fate.
I brace myself. “Oh, God,” I murmur. “This is where?—”
He rubs against her leg, that rusty-sounding purr vibrating from him.
I freeze. “No.”
She bends down like she’s done this before and scratches under his chin.
Mr. Pickles leans into it, his purring loud and content. The bastard actually seems happy.
I stare at him, shaking my head. “No. This can’t be.”
“He likes me,” Violet says, her voice calm and certain. “We’re kindred spirits.”
I shake my head, still in shock. “He hates everyone.”
“He doesn’t hate me.” She straightens, a smile on her face. “Guess I won the bet.”
I blink at her. A slow, dazed smile forms. “Yeah, I guess you did.”
