Jude.
James.
For a second, I’m tempted, very tempted, to push on Lucifer’s name and go straight to the source.
He’s truly the reason for all of this shit, and he’s known for making deals, hence his name.
But what do I have to offer him? I don’t even know what they want!
Deciding James himself is my best way out of this, I press on his name.
The touch pad rings a couple of times, like it’s a phone, then James’s voice comes through.
“Missing me already?” he asks with a touch of laughter in his voice.
“Not in the least!” I nearly shriek, immediately forgetting I need to play nice if I want this to work.
James chuckles as if he doesn’t believe me. “Then why are you calling me? I haven’t been gone five minutes…”
Biting back the urge to tell him to stay gone, I grit out, “I think Mitzy needs to pee.”
“And?” James asks, and I swear I hear him yawning.
Is he purposely trying to piss me off again?
I take a deep breath to calm myself.
If he’s going to believe me, I must stay calm.
“I need you to unlock the door so I can take her out,” I say.
Sounding a little suspicious, James says, “Oh? She knows how to get out if she needs to.”
Dammit. That’s exactly the last thing I want to hear.
I almost groan. “She does?”
“Yes. I would never leave my princess in such a predicament,” James says, clearly offended now. “The back door has a doggy door for her. Why are you really calling, Sophia?”
I guess it’s time to cut all the bullshit and just say it. “Unlock the door, James.”
His answer is firm and immediate. “No.”
“Let me out! Unlock the damn door!” I yell at him.
Again, he says, “No.”
“What if there’s a fire, huh?” I challenge. “What if Fluffers has to pee or poop? We didn’t bring a litter box for her.”
I know, I just know, he’s wearing an annoying smirk because I can hear it in his voice as he says, “Our house is equipped with a state-of-the-art emergency system. If there’s a fire or another disaster, there are systems in place to protect you. Plus, I will immediately be alerted. You have nothing to worry about.”
Damn him. Just… damn him.
“What about Fluffers, huh? You going to leave her to suffer? Does my cat not matter as much as your dog?”
“She matters,” James says then sighs. “I’m sorry about the lack of litter box, it can’t be helped right now. If she has an accident or something, I’ll deal with it and clean it up. On my way home, I’ll stop and pick up a litter box and stuff for her.”
“Just unlock the door and I’ll deal with it right now,” I say, trying my best to keep my desperation out of my voice.
“No,” James says quickly and firmly again.
So quick and firm, I want to fucking scream.
I start to argue, “But—”
He cuts me off, quickly talking over me. “This meeting shouldn’t take too long. I’ll be home before you know it. Try not to miss me too much.”
Then he hangs up on me.
I stare at the touch screen in disbelief.
He really hung up on me, just like that.
And he’s not going to unlock the door.
He’s going to keep me trapped in his house like a cruel prison warden.
My anger rising and getting the best of me, I begin to contemplate paying him back some way.
He seemed so proud of this place when I was getting a feel for the layout. His chest puffing out with that cocky smile on his lips.
Perhaps I should destroy his shit…
Imagining the look on his face when he comes back and finds everything wrecked has me heading for the meat tenderizer again.
After all, he’s destroyed all my things…
My phone.
My freedom.
My sanity.
It’s only fair, isn’t it?
I bend down to grab the tenderizer and something cold and wet bumps against my arm.
I glance to the side in surprise to see Mitzy peering intently at me. When she sees she has my attention, she starts to whine.
“What is it?” I ask.
I don’t know why she’s taken to me. I’ve done very little to encourage it. I’ve been too busy stuck in my own head or dealing with James to give her any real attention. But ever since she jumped into my lap and snuggled up to Fluffers and me, she’s been glued to my side.
Choosing me over him.
She whines again and starts pawing at my arm.
I shouldn’t feel the need to explain myself to a dog, a dog that’s not even mine, but I do.
“He deserves it,” I tell her.
Mitzy doesn’t agree or disagree with me, she just peers at me with those big black eyes of hers, judging me again.
I feel a twinge of guilt, just a twinge, then I shake my head at the silliness of it.
I’m letting a dog get to me like she even understands what I plan on doing.
Gently I shake her off my arm and fully straighten.
Then I start to march toward the kitchen, purposely ignoring her.
I make it three steps before I hear a low growl and something tugs at my legging.
“What the—”
I stop and glance down to see Mitzy snarling with my legging clamped between her teeth.
“Mitzy, stop that!” I command and give my leg a little shake, trying to get her off without hurting her.
Mitzy growls louder and starts to shake her head back and forth, the little pink bow in her hair swaying.
“Mitzy, stop!” I yelp and resist the urge to kick her off, her sudden aggression freaking me out. “He totally deserves it and you know it!”
Mitzy gives one more loud growl then she jumps back and starts barking at me.
I swear she’s telling me off.
And dammit, it’s working.
That twinge of guilt returns, making me question what I’m doing.
Am I not being a little psycho? I think as Mitzy barks at me.
Will messing his house up do me any favors? Or will it give him even more reason to make me miserable?
“What am I supposed to do then, huh?” I ask, on the verge of tears. “Am I supposed to roll over and let him walk all over me? Am I supposed to just accept this?”
As if she understands me, Mitzy’s barking slows then comes to a complete stop.
I find myself waiting for a few seconds, waiting for her, a dog, to give me the answer.
When she only stares at me, I make a sound of disgust at myself.
That’s it, it’s official. I’ve completely lost it.
Defeated, a wave of exhaustion rolls over me, and the tenderizer almost drops from my hand.
Tightening my grip, I swallow back the nearly overwhelming feeling of helplessness and turn away from Mitzy.
When she starts barking and chasing after me again, I stop just long enough to snap at her, “I’m not going to mess anything up. I’m going to bed.”
Mitzy quiets, silently following behind me as I walk to the kitchen. Dropping the tenderizer in the sink, I head upstairs.
She doesn’t make a peep until we reach the upper landing. Barking at me as I head for the guest bedroom.
“What?” I ask. “Am I not allowed to sleep now? Must I stay awake and eagerly await his return?”