Her Street Fighter

18.

Chapter Eighteen
Marebela

I noticed the orange cat sitting outside on the black stairs that led down to the back of the restaurant.

She looked so cute, I wanted to pet her.

I went to open the window so she could come in if she wanted.

"What are you doing?" Gunn said grumpily.

He covered my hand so I couldn't open it. He pulled my hand back away from the latch.

"There's the same cat," I said. I looked over at the window to see the cat licking it's fur on its paw.

"Don't let the cat in," he demanded. "I need to go to work."

He let go of my hand and it dropped to my side. He stormed out the door as if it was the worst thing in the world that he had to touch me.

The cat moved closer to the window and she put her paw on it. How was I supposed to leave her out there?

Instead of listening to Gunn, I opened the window and the cat hopped inside. She slowly walked towards me and I thought she was going to attack me again. Instead she rubbed her head against my legs and moved her whole body against them. She did it again on the other side and again.

What was I going to name her? She didn't have a collar or anything.

Pumpkin, sounds cute.

But it wasn't perfect.

I looked outside and saw the daisies that I started growing in the planter. Gunn didn't take care of the plants before and they all died. I decided to get flowers and make it look better.

The orange cat always loved to play with them.

"Daisy!" I exclaimed.

That was also my middle name so it fit perfectly.

The cat looked towards me and let out a meow.

Perfect! Daisy is her name.

She was the cutest thing in the world.

I was trying to figure out how to get Gunn to allow me to work at the restaurant, but why would I waste time trying to change his mind when he was the most stubborn person ever when I could get another job and use that money to pay him back?

Suddenly I heard scratching noises and that was when I got up from the table and over into Gunns room.

Oh no!

Gunn was going to kill me.

The cat ruined his favourite blanket. He told me to never touch it since it was his when he was younger.

She scratched it to shreds. There was no way this can be fixed before he noticed. I doubt it could be fixed at all.

I felt my stomach drop at the thought of what Gunn was going to do when he found out. He would kick me out for sure, but what about the cat when he saw it again.

Would he hurt an animal? No, he was definitely not that cruel.

I wanted to run away and never see his reaction. I wanted to hide the blanket somewhere he could never find it and hope he forgot about it, but I could never.

I would feel too bad. I needed to tell him.

If he kicked me out. I will need to find somewhere else. Maybe that Inn I saw when I got lost that night. I could get a job at that bookstore and make some money to pay for the room.

My life wouldn't be over. At least that was what I hoped.

I would do anything I could before I went back to my stepmother.

By now, I bet my step mother has stopped trying to look for me. She has seen that I was not going to come back and hopefully she has accepted that.

Or what if she hasn't and was still looking for me?

Or worse, she found another women to be her maid?

I didn't want to think about that right now. I took the scratched light green blanket in my hand. It looked stringy and it was already had dirt on it because of how old it was. That made me feel worse. He had kept it for all these years. It had to be important to him and because I didn't listen and let the cat in it was wrecked.

The cat was too cute to refuse.

Suddenly I hear the lock switch unlocked and the doorknob to the apartment start to wiggle open. Gunn was home. I didn't realize it was that late. The cat left out the window and I was officially alone. It was Gunn and I.

My stomach started to hurt and I felt like I was going to throw up all the food I ate today, which wasn't a lot since I was nervous all day. Now the time as come when he will find out.

I panicked and tried to clean up the shreds of the blanket, but I was too late. Gunn had came into the room and took off his shirt to change since it was dirty from cooking all day.

He froze when he saw what I was doing.

His eyes darkened and I his jaw clenched hard. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me hole. I didn't like when he was angry.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he asked. I couldn't tell if he was mad.

My mouth felt like it was glued together, I felt my body burn with worry.

He crouched down to my level to see what I was doing. My hands were hard as sticks and I couldn't move them.

His eyes widened. I finally moved to shield myself. My hands cover my face as I wait for his impact on me.

I felt my arms shake slightly as I wait for him to say something, do something, anything. He doesn't, but I was too scared to see what he was doing. I was too scared to move.

I slowly removed my hands to see him looking at me.

His eyes remained emotionless and it was scarier. I would rather him get angry, this felt a thousand times worse.

He took the ripped fabric in his hands and then the other smaller pieces until they were all in the palm of his hands. He looked so heartbroken I could cry.

"I'm sorry." I trembled. My heart was beating in my chest. "I should've listened to you when you said to not let the cat in, but I didn't know she was going to wreck this."

He finally looked at me. His eyes were hollow and drained, but they never left my face. I felt my eyes glassy and I tried blinking the tears away.

"I feel so bad. I understand if you want me to leave, I will first thing tomorrow. I promise I will be gone before you even wake up," I told him. I took a break to catch my breath since I spoke so fast, trying to get all the words out. "I will try to replace it and I will look everywhere I can to find one that looks the same. You wouldn't even notice."

He hasn't said another word. It was his turn for his lips to be sealed shut.

He stood up with the pieces in his hands and I swear I saw his eyes glisten with tears. That tore a hole through my heart. I felt the tears leave my eyes at the thought that he was crying.

He left the room and I heard the front door close.

What have I done?