Cat Fight

Chapters 11 & 12

Previously on Cat Fight:

As Joe and Bobby transport the demonic kitten they've named Damien back to the shelter, Bobby's condition deteriorates rapidly with fever and strange symptoms, mirroring the kitten's own labored breathing. At the shelter, Mary confronts both the financial burden of Bobby's injuries and the unsettling presence of the blood-covered kitten, whose evil gaze sends chills down her spine. Meanwhile, at the dance studio, Olga's mounting distress over her husband's infidelity leads to a violent accident during a dance lesson, leaving her bleeding and humiliated as her rival Jen watches with satisfaction.

Chapter 11

Mary dabbed a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol on Bobby’s cheek. He immediately winced; his face pinched in pain.

“The fuck?” he hollered, to Mary’s utter dismay.

“Well, I need to make sure there’s no infection.”

“Joe already did this,” said Bobby, shaking his head. He looked away, avoiding eye contact. “I’ve had enough already.”

Mary nodded. “I get it, Bobby. Believe me, I do, but that’s a lot of scratches and gashes you’ve got there.” She put her hand to his forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Pretty fucking pissed off.”

She laughed. “I’m sure, but do you feel hot, like a temperature is coming on?”

Bobby shook his head. “No.”

Mary looked at the wound. It didn’t look right with all the dried blood and the skin was gray, as if it were dying. Plus, the blisters were already showing-a common sign of cat scratch fever. Two tiny blisters sat on top of the half-inch gash across his cheek.

She looked at his arms where the other scratches were. Multiple gashes across his wrists and that one sizeable chunk of meat missing from his right thumb. Mary wondered if it was still wedged in the glove that’s still in the cage with the kitten. Bobby typically wasn’t the type of person to lose his cool, but considering current circumstances, Mary understood why he was so pissed. The guy looked like he’d been cut up by a serial killer and left to rot. His thumb and cheek were the most concerning. The cheek because it’s that much closer to Bobby’s brain and the thumb… it just looked bad. She could see his bone, all white like ivory, and the tendon every time he moved his thumb. It gave Mary the creeps just looking at it.

Mary knew what she needed to do next. Ask him if he wants to go to the hospital, which was standard protocol and a must follow protocol too. If she doesn’t offer emergency assistance and something happens to Bobby after the fact, both she and Henderson’s Animal Control were liable. She hoped he would refuse the offer.

She stepped to the counter, depositing the bloodied cotton ball into the trash, then opened a drawer to gather the bandages and antibiotic ointment. “Do you want to go to the hospital?” Mary asked, grabbing the bandages and ointment as she turned around. Her head snapped back. Bobby was looking at her all funny. He had this stare in his eyes that didn’t sit well with her, as if he was devouring Mary with his eyes. Equally strange was what he did next. He lapped his tongue across his chin, cheeks, and lips, staring at Mary as if she were his next meal.

Mary’s eyes widened. “Bobby?” she called. “You okay?”

His eyes narrowed as he shook his head and turned away with no response. Mary stepped in front of him. Started applying ointment to his wounds-thumb not included. She’ll need to add it to the bandage before wrapping it up. His eyes were downtrodden. “So, hospital or no?” she asked again. She needed that damn answer. Needed for him to sign a form too, stating that he refused medical attention.

“What?” he hollered, loud too.

Mary was taken aback by his abruptly loud voice. “The hospital, Bobby. Do you want Joe to take you to the hospital?”

He shook his head. “No,” he said. “I’ll be fine.”

She felt a sudden sense of relief and continued to dress his wounds. “Okay. I just need you to sign a form indicating your refusal,” she said, then looked into his eyes. “It’s just a formality. Got to cross the i’s and dot the t’s.” He looked at her like she had ten heads. “What? That’s just a joke.”

Bobby said nothing. He just turned away when Joe walked into the room.

“How’s the big guy doing?” Joe asked.

Mary wrapped a bandage around Bobby’s thumb. “He’ll be fine,” she said, then looked at her brother and noticed he was sweating, his face flushed and pale. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said, his hands on his hips, assessing Bobby’s cheek.

Mary stopped what she was doing to fully assess her brother. “You look like you’re running a fever. Take your temp, please.”

He shook his head. “I’m fine, Mar, don’t worry about it.” He gestured to Bobby. “I’m concerned about this guy, though. That kitten really got you good.”

Bobby said nothing. He looked confused, as if he was giving audience to the thoughts in his head and not paying attention to the outside world.

“After I finish bandaging him up, take him home,” said Mary to Joe. She looked at Bobby. “He needs rest more than anything.”

“I’ll check on you in the morning,” said Joe. “Make sure you’re doing okay.”

Silence from Bobby and Joe and Mary shared a concerned stare. He had that same stare, flat as if he was in a fit of confusion, until he looked up at Joe.

“Where’s the kitten?” he asked.

Joe cocked his brow. “Sleeping. Mary will do a full workup on him tonight. Hopefully tomorrow we’ve got a completely new feline.”

Bobby looked at Mary. “Be careful,” he said. “There’s something wrong with that cat.”

Mary pulled her lips into a smile. “No worries,” she said. “When animals are hostile, we always put them to sleep before the checkup.”

Bobby nodded, then looked up quickly. “What about the others?” He just about jumped off the table.

Mary and Joe both froze. Bobby’s sudden jolt was alarming. It was Joe who answered. “Right there,” he said, gesturing behind Bobby to the cremation chamber. “Unfortunate as it is.”

Bobby was turned to the chamber.

Mary noticed how he lapped his tongue across his mouth again.

Chapter 12

Ten stitches. That’s what it took to sew Olga’s shoulder. Apparently, the gash was deep, too. According to the doctor, he could see her bone. Not that it mattered to Olga, though. Thanks to the doctor for the morphine, she couldn’t feel a thing.

She felt pretty good lying down in the hospital bed, recovering from surgery with her arm in a sling. The doctor said to have minimal movement with the arm until the stitches were removed. The nurse who wheeled her into the post-op room told her he’d let Sasha know she was in recovery.

That was a full half hour ago. He’d yet to show up and, of course, Olga’s mind started to wander. To wander to places filled with paranoia and jealousy. She could still see Jen’s eyes, those emerald greens Olga wanted to claw out of her skull.

Then to the mishap. How the hell did she miss her step? She got all tangled up and tripped over her own feet. It wasn’t even Fred’s big clunkers that got in her way. Her own fucking feet did it. Her own fault. She hadn’t tripped and fallen on the dance floor since grade school and that wasn’t even half as bad as the current circumstance. A few bruises across the thigh and that was it. She was back on the dance floor the next morning, but this, ten stitches across her shoulder and sure as shit, it’ll be stiff for a week.

She’ll have to cancel her weekly lessons. Either that or take the chance that the wound would open again.

She didn’t want to think about it. Not now. All she wanted to do was go home and sleep in the comfort of her own bed. If her damn husband would come to bring her home. Where the fuck is he, anyway?

Olga clenched her fist, her nails digging into her palm.

She was distracted. That’s what it was. Distracted by them, hanging out in the damn kitchen for hours.

What the fuck were they doing in there?

You know what they were doing.

How embarrassing.

Ten stitches, Olga reminded herself. The same number of years she and Sasha had been married. A stitch for every year. You give your life to someone and in the end, all you’ve got is a hole that’ll never fully heal.

Tears pricked in her eyes.

Fuck! she thought. Aren’t these pills supposed to take the pain away?

She wiped her eyes when the door opened and in walked her husband. Sasha was escorted into the room by a nurse Olga had not seen before. She was young, too.

“Hey, there you are,” said Sasha, all giddy like. She wanted to punch him in the face. The nurse looked at Olga. She must’ve caught the fire in Olga’s eyes because she turned away a moment later.

Sasha exchanged pleasantries with the nurse before she slipped out the door, then trained his eyes on Olga.

“You ready to go?” asked Sasha, as he stepped closer to Olga. “How do you feel?”

Olga just looked at him. A stare filled with pure disgust plastered across her face.

Is he fucking the nurse now, too?

Honestly, considering her state of mind, if Sasha was sleeping with the housekeeper, Olga wouldn’t be surprised. Is there a hole on the planet he won’t shove his cock in?

“You okay?” asked Sasha. His demeanor changed. He seemed gentle, caring, although Olga could also see the guilt in his eyes. He touched her jaw, and she turned away. She couldn’t stand his touch. “Baby, is there something else bothering you?”

She gritted her teeth, her jaw clenched so tight she felt like her jaw was going to crack. She wanted to tell him to fuck off. Wanted to tell him to shove that pearly white smile up his ass and take a hike. Let him know that she knows he’s been cheating. Cheating every chance he could get, she was sure. She snapped her head towards him and caught the stare in his eyes.

Why some men felt they had to stick their dicks in every woman was beyond her.

Problem was, it was the way he was looking at her now that she had first fallen in love with. She turned away, thinking of their daughter.

“I just want to go home,” she said.