The Mad Kitty (The Kitty Chronicles )

by V Vee

  I exhaled deeply as I remembered my mother’s admonishment from the day of my first day of third grade. I’d been eight years by that point and hadn’t had one friend.

  Well, one human friend.

  But I’d had a ton of animal friends. So many, in fact, that whenever I’d gone outside to play the courtyard of our apartment complex would become almost flooded with squirrels, birds, stray cats, stray dogs, and the like. I’d fed them, bathed them, groomed them, played with them, and would sing to them.

  I got teased horribly by the other kids in my neighborhood and the bullies in school had been even worse, but I had my animal friends and my music to help soothe the burn of any humiliation. The animals had been my friends, ready to listen whenever I was having a hard day. And music?

  Music had been my salvation.

  It gave my soul a purpose. Gave air to my lungs. Filled my days with sunshine and my nights with moonlight. It was the blood pumping to my heart. It was my salvation. Especially when my mother had died when I was only eighteen, just two weeks after I’d graduated from high school, from a brain hemorrhage.

  While I hadn’t had many friends, my mother had been a social butterfly, and it was her friends, and past lovers, who’d contributed to her burial and funeral. They’d comforted me and had come together to give me money to keep me afloat for the first six months I’d lived without her. As soon as I’d started making money as a singer, I’d paid them all back.

  And they’d all disappeared. Their generosity given and compensation graciously returned. When it was just me again, I’d thrown myself into music. I’d taken jobs everywhere and anywhere. Singing at nursing homes, hospitals, bar and bat mitzvahs, weddings, graduations, local sports games, and even funerals. It was a matter of me paying my dues, something I’d always known I would have to do, but nothing I regretted.

  It was at one of these small-time gigs that I’d met Andrew. I’d been invited to sing at a bar, and I’d been beside myself with excitement. So excited, in fact, that I hadn’t realized it was an Irish mob bar, and I was being ripped off, until Andrew had stabbed the bar owner’s hand and demanded more money for me. I’d been a little too surprised to do anything more than gasp at the time. My lack of response had impressed the man—as well as my voice—and he’d offered to manage me. I hadn’t asked if he had experience, I’d simply been in awe. I’d said yes, taken his business card, and gave him mine, all before I noticed the gleaming white gold wedding band on his left ring finger, over the tattoo that I’d later learned was something else he’d shared with his wife.

  AM KS

  Andrew had become my manager, his wife had become my “unofficial” stylist, and my career had skyrocketed. And now I was looking at an official recording contract with one of the big studios. I had the feeling the day would come when the gorgeously dangerous man who managed my career—whom I’d heard other people speak of in whispered tones, referring to him as “The Irishman”—would ask me for a favor and I would be honor-bound to say yes. I absolutely couldn’t believe my luck.

  I also couldn’t believe how long it had been since I’d gotten laid.

  Shaking my head, I slipped my feet into my brown sandals, shifted Brian to one side, holding him with one hand, and grabbed my keys and purse from my walnut-colored wood sideboard. Glancing over my shoulder, I made sure there was nothing out of place in my small townhouse. It had taken me almost fifteen years after losing my mother to get here, but I’d finally managed to reach a point where I owned property and a vehicle.

  My living room was a total throwback to my bohemian lifestyle. With an overstuffed, deep crimson sofa, covered by a multicolored blanket, a soft, faux-white fur throw over the back, multicolored pillows of various shapes and sizes lay across the cushions. A wooden chair with a colorful throw and a thick crimson cushion, sat to one side of the sofa. I’d tossed another pillow covered in various flowers of all different colors, on the chair as well. My end tables and my coffee table didn’t match except for the fact that they’d all been painted with bright red for the legs, and white with pink paint splatters on the top. Plants either hung or sat around the room, books were stashed around the room, there was a dreamcatcher hanging on the wall—as there was in every room of my house—and on the opposite wall, where most people would have a television, I had a small makeshift Buddhist altar, where the Buddhas Me-Ler, Nan-Hai, and Ji Gong rested, surrounded by unlit candles, unlit incense, and offerings of tea and incense. On either side of the altar were artistic tapestries from the Indigenous Seminole community.

  The floors in my home were all hardwood and covered in various places with colorful rugs. My walls were covered with art prints, tapestries, and canvases from numerous oppressed and minority peoples. I burned incense and sage on the regular, so my home was usually smoky—okay, I’ll admit it, sometimes I smoked weed too, but it’s a plant so it’s not really “drugs”—and right next to my front door was my shoe caddy. I didn’t allow people to wear their shoes past the entryway, and out of all the things which could have surprised Andrew when he’d come over the first time—and it wouldn’t be the first time someone looked at my home, then at me with my medium brown skin, full lips, curvy, petite frame, and my natural black curves with confusion—it was my rule about removing his shoes which had given him pause. I hadn’t understood it at first, but when he moved to sit on the cushioned bench in the entryway, I’d gotten it.

  Andrew had a large cache of weapons all over his person.

  From the ankle holster on one ankle, the small throwing knife in a sheath on the other ankle, when he’d bent over to remove his shoes, I’d seen the gun in his waistband, and the bottom of his double-shoulder holster. For a moment, again, I’d gasped, but besides the second of hesitation, Andrew had ignored me and been completely casual about things. So I’d followed his lead, and it was only that first time I’d had to tell him to remove his shoes, he’d remembered every time following.

  Closing and locking the front door, I went to slip the temporary collar on Brian’s neck, then headed for my bright blue 2019 Kia Soul. I sat Brian down on the front seat, then headed for the driver’s side. I was headed to the Fr33 SpiriT Alternative Medicine, Chi, Chakra, and Tantric Shop. It was known for its herbal, natural, homeopathic, and psychic treatments of a variety of illnesses.

  Because, while I’d been trying to ignore it, my insides were clenching, swirling, and shaking from panic and anxiety. I’d been extremely excited about my new contract, but now I was simply freaking the fuck out. I wanted to throw up. My hands were shaking, and I knew I was on the verge of screaming and needing to stand beneath cold water to calm down.

  Hopefully there was something in Fr33 SpiriT that could help me. Or else I was going to blow my first, one, and only chance.

  Chapter Four

  Ludwig

  I walked along the boardwalk, taking in the sights of common people, going about their day, many of them without a care in the world. What would they do if they knew they tossed smiles, head nods, and words of greeting to a killer? I tilted up one corner of my lips as I imagined the chaos that would occur. The mothers that would clutch their children to their breasts, the cowardly men who would run and hide for shelter, leaving their women, their children, their loved ones, to fend for themselves. And the brave ones—men and women—who would attempt to confront me, to take me on.

  I snorted out a soft laugh. They would all die, of course. They wouldn’t even see my 9mm, Desert Eagle 1911 C™ before a bullet was tearing a hole through their skull and their brain. Of course, I hadn’t set out to kill anyone, I only killed those I had to—either for money, or to maintain my identity, or my life—but if I had to. I wouldn’t hesitate.

  I shifted my eyes to the right and snorted at the name of the store I was passing.

  Fr33 SpiriT Alternative Medicine, Chi, Chakra, and Tantric Shop. Right.

  I rolled my eyes. Another hippie-dippy store that probably sold bongs, dreamcatchers, scarves, pillows, Buddha statue
s, and glass sex toys that contained marijuana within them. I was just about to continue my walk—I strolled around town, looking so normal that while I didn’t stick out enough, people noticed me on their periphery. So if they were questioned by the police, they would sort of “remember” me, but not to the point where I appeared to stick out and they could pick me out of a lineup.

  It was a strategy Andrew had taught me, and it was something I continued to do, all these years later.

  But before I could take a step, something caught my attention.

  A glimpse of a brown. No, it was so much more than that. It was the light reflecting off a brown shoulder. The gold undertones shining brightly underneath the harsh fluorescent light. I followed the brown shoulder up a long, slender neck, and my breath caught when I saw the unknown woman’s profile. Her small chin, full, protruding lips, slightly wide nose, that looked as if it had a small bump in the center, the eyes that glanced around the store. I continued to check her out, ignoring my original goal. I no longer cared if people noticed me or not. I wanted to see more of the beautiful woman in the alternative medicine store.

  When she turned completely to head to another part of the store, I groaned. She was petite, but curvy. So, so curvy. She had wide hips, large, full breasts, and a small pooch of a stomach. Her hair was natural and surrounded her head like a halo, falling to just below her shoulders. She bit her lower lip and I growled softly. I wanted to be biting that full lip. See if she tasted as good as she looked. I wanted those lips wrapped around my cock. Sucking and draining me dry.

  I wanted that mouth open as she screamed my name, while I pounded my dick deep in her pussy.

  I moved my hand to the front of my jeans and discreetly adjusted myself.

  I had a decision to make. I could either continue on with my walk…

  Or I could go into the store, introduce myself to the mysterious beauty, then take her back home to my hotel room and fuck her blind.

  I snorted again and stepped into the store.

  Like there was a choice.

  I came to a halt when I saw what the unknown woman—soon to be my known slut—was holding in her hands.

  A shiny, black, obsidian dildo.

  Chapter Five

  Katrina

  I’d walked into Fr33 SpiriT with one purpose and one purpose only, to find something to help me deal with my anxiety and panic over my new contract. I was thinking I could find some pills, or even buy a new bong with some marijuana to help soothe me. However, when I’d pulled into the parking lot of the store and opened it, Brian the cat, had jumped out and raced inside. I’d chased after him, calling his name—which I knew he wouldn’t respond to, Brian didn’t technically suit him—and found him sitting in front of the homeopathic sex aides, licking himself. My face had heated, and I’d glanced up at the shop’s owner, an older white woman with long grey hair, who’d simply offered me a small, pleasant smile. I’d nodded back then leaned down to scoop Brian up into my arms. But he wouldn’t remain still and had knocked one of the dildos off the shelf.

  It was a black, obsidian dildo.

  For some reason, I felt as if the dildo was calling to me. I knew it was ridiculous, and if I’d ever told anyone they would think I was even crazier than I already knew I was, and yet, I couldn’t seem to put it back on the shelf. Tucking Brian under one arm, I examined the sex toy and admired its smoothness and heft. My core clenched as I imagined sinking the cool black fake penis deep inside of my pussy.

  God almighty I needed to get laid. Or at least have a decent orgasm.

  Before I knew it, I was stroking the fake penis, licking and biting my lower lip as I pictured myself naked, my nipples hard and puckered, my stomach quivering, my folds wet, as I plunged the dildo in and out of myself. Without warning I groaned, and I looked around to make sure no one had noticed my involuntary sexual response to the toy.

  My gaze was snared by the hot, dark brown gaze of a man. Oh, and what a man he was.

  Big, broad shouldered, dark hair, his lips fixed into a smirk, his jaw square, his muscled biceps, pecs, and corrugated stomach pressing against the black shirt he wore. He looked… dangerously sexy. Even more so than Andrew, and I found myself licking my lips again.

  Get it together, Katrina. You don’t even know him and you’re practically panting like a bitch in heat.

  My subconscious didn’t have the power to stop the hot lust that was soaking my insides with passion and desire. I watched as he strode towards me and began panting. What was it about this guy that had me so tied up in knots? So dazed and heated?

  I wasn’t able to answer that question before Brian wriggled free of my gaze and headed straight for the stranger. My cat—because yes, he was mine until I found out where he belonged—twisted and twined himself around the sexy man’s legs, purring all the while.

  I watched in astonishment as the unknown man picked Brian up, scratching and petting him behind his ears and beneath his chin. Brian looked more than content. He seemed downright blissful.

  I wish he would pet me like that.

  I shook my head and headed over to him.

  “I’m sorry about that. I’m not exactly sure why he went to you. He’s been pretty standoffish with most people,” I apologized to the man.

  “It’s not a problem,” he responded, his voice deep and melodic. I found myself closing my eyes, imagining that voice saying my name in the throes of passion. His chuckle brought me out of my fantasies, and I offered him an apologetic smile. “I think he simply acknowledges a kindred spirit.”

  “A kindred spirit?” I parroted; my gaze fixed on his lips as he spoke. He looked Asian, but not completely Asian. Asian mixed with something. Something strong, something masculine.

  Something dangerous.

  “Yes. You see, I’d seen you from out on the street and I’d wished it were me you were holding so close to your body,” he said with a smirk.

  “Oh,” I muttered, my mouth going dry.

  “Are you going to buy that?” he asked, pointing to the dildo in my hand.

  I let out a squeak and wanted to deny it, but again… it was calling to me. Demanding that I purchase it. So, I simply nodded and turned to head to the register.

  “Good. I can’t wait to try it on you,” the man said.

  I stopped in my tracks and turned to look at him in surprise. He grinned and held out his free hand.

  “Ludwig,” he offered, his eyes widening in surprise as if he were shocked that he’d given me his name.

  “Katrina,” I responded, taking his hand with my own to shake it. The surge of electricity, the spark of connection stopped me in my tracks, and I looked up at him in surprise.

  “Nice to meet you, Katrina,” Ludwig said. “Why don’t you go ahead and buy that, and we can go to my hotel room so I can use it on you properly?”

  I swallowed and nodded. “Or um… you can come back to my place. That way Brian can eat, and we can have some… privacy.”

  Ludwig’s smile widened. “Perfect.”

  I nodded. “Yes, perfect.”

  Chapter Six

  Ludwig

  I watched as Katrina headed up to the cashier in order to pay for her... “new boyfriend”, and kept stroking her cat... Though not necessarily the one whose fur I wanted to have my fingers buried inside of, but that was probably not something I should be thinking of while holding an animal.

  I knew most people were surprised to see my gentleness with animals and babies. Whether they knew what my job was or not, my size intimated to most people that I was a big, muscle-bound idiot, who only derived pleasure from killing others and working out. Which was totally not true. I loved all sorts of things besides my job of killing people and working out.

  I loved animals.

  I loved kids.

  I loved music.

  I loved looking at a beautiful woman.

  As Katrina turned and headed back towards me with a bag with the Fr33 SpiriT logo on it, I added another item to my list.<
br />
  And I was sure I was going to love fucking Katrina.

  She stopped in front of me, biting her lower lip. I reached up and tugged the fleshy bit from between her teeth. Leaning down, I nudged the side of her neck, inhaling deeply.

  “Uh-uh,” I tsked. “Don’t abuse your mouth with your teeth. That’s my job.”

  Katrina inhaled sharply and exhaled shakily. I grinned, placing a gentle kiss to her skin.

  “Let’s go.”

  “Okay.” She nodded holding out her hands for her cat, Brian.

  What a strange name to give an animal.

  I moved to follow her from the store when the clerk spoke.

  “The black obsidian stone has very special powers. It will remove negativity and soothe the savage beast that resides in us all,” she said. I looked at her with a smirk.

  “I don’t think Katrina has a beast inside of her. She doesn’t seem the type,” I replied.

  “Hmmm...” the cashier nodded. “Then perhaps the stone is for you.”

  I laughed at the very idea of using the dildo. I knew there were men who did so, and to each their own, but I was not one.

  “Yeah, sure.” I made my way towards Katrina when the cashier’s words sent a sliver of icy heat stroking down my spine.

  “Don’t brush off the supernatural, Ludwig. You’re going to need to believe in it in order to survive what’s coming.”

  When I turned back to ask her how she knew my name, to see if Katrina had told her, she was gone.

  “Ludwig?” Katrina’s mellifluous voice caressed my skin from the doorway.

  Shaking my head mentally, I stepped out and kissed Katrina’s forehead, something I had never done with any woman other than my mother.

  “Let me walk you to your car. Then I’ll follow you home.”