There's Something Wrong With The Cat by C J Powell

Author:C J Powell [Powell, C J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-06-09T00:00:00+00:00

BAD CALL

The night air was still and calm. The street always so eerily quiet so early in the morning. No birds sang. No cars rattled past on the main road. Everything had a purple-orange tint. It could have been another world.

Dan’s fingers were prunes. His skin felt soft and his sinuses were clear. And while his body felt relaxed after his hours spent between pool, sauna, steam room, and gym, his mind had not quieted.

He’d gone over his options a thousand times and had decided he was going to come fully clean to Amy. He would wake her up as soon as he returned and tell her exactly what had happened. Everything, from dog fight to disappearing woman. She would know what to do. She always did.

He felt lighter for the decision.

As he passed Andrew’s house, he considered whether or not he should knock. Instead, he crossed to the other side of the road and passed as quickly as he could. He cast a sideways glance. There was a faint light behind the curtains. He sensed a flicker of movement, a shadow.

Something told him that the place wasn’t empty, that the woman or her man were in there now, watching the road, waiting in the dark. Waiting for him. Were they waiting for Andrew, too? Or did they have him?

He hurried past and crossed the road again.

There was a light on the second floor of Gatsby’s house. The old man was up. Dan pictured him tottering around the house alone.

A sigh escaped him in a breath of mist.

The gate shrieked as he opened it.

“Oil,” he mumbled, voice hoarse with a sudden nervous fatigue that dragged at his limbs. He trudged up the garden path.

The house was silent, still, dark.

Catman and The Flash would be asleep somewhere. Back when they were younger, they would bound up to him as soon as he came through the door after a gig. Now, they were used to him returning at ungodly hours, and were content to wait until the morning to say hi.

He headed straight upstairs and pushed open the bedroom door, shutting it quietly behind him.

He liked a bit of light in the room at night. Being able to see made him feel safe. But Amy insisted on heavy blackout curtains to block out the amber glow of the street. The room was pitch black save a sliver of orange down the middle that divided the room in two.

He closed his eyes and navigated his way along the wall to the bed. Sat down on the edge and stretched. His muscles twitched. He was nervous to wake her, nervous to begin. It was a similar feeling to when he’d asked her to marry him. He was asking her to trust him, to be with him fully in all things, good and bad.

“Amy,” he said, whispering into the dark.

She didn’t stir.

“Amy, I need to talk to you about something.”

Nothing.

She must be tired.

He lay down on the bed and eased himself towards her. Careful not to pull the cover from her.

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