Kidnapped By The Prince ✔️

Chapter 17

My feet crunch on the gravel of the driveway, scaring the small animal in my arms. I hug it closer to my chest and bury its face into my neck for protection from the ungodly wind.

"It's okay, Mr. Pancake. You'll be nice and warm soon." I coo to the grey kitten, scratching right behind its ear. Mr. Pancake purrs loudly and rubs against my finger affectionately. His ribcage prods against my palm, begging for something to eat. I sigh as I open the door, the tips of my fingers and nose a bright red.

"I'm home," I announce. The response is silence. I groan in frustration as I grip onto Mr. Pancake and raid the fridge for leftovers.

Leftover Chinese? Probably not, considering the bellyaches I get after eating it.

Steak? Yeah, sure. Be prepared to get murdered by Haiden.

Ooooh, burgers.

"Alright, Mr. Pancake," I set him on the floor. "Behave yourself while I prepare a fricken Gordan Ramsey dish."

I plop the burger patties onto a paper plate and pull a knife from the drawer, chopping them into small pieces.

"What are you doing?" Parker asks drowsily from behind me, nearly making the knife slip from my hands.

"Cutting up burgers." I reply in a duh-tone.

"What the hell is that?!" Parker shrieks, pointing to Mr. Pancake and jumping onto a chair. I raise a brow at his outburst and scoop Mr. Pancake into my arms.

"This is Mr. Pancake and he is my kitty." I smile innocently.

"How did you get a cat?" Parker asks hesitantly.

"He was just an itty-bitty stray kitty, wasn't you, Mr. Pancake?" I explain in a baby voice, nuzzling my nose against Mr. Pancake's.

"You're going to get rabies!" Parker exclaims, reaching for the kitten. I snatch Mr. Pancake from his grip and hug him tightly.

"THIS IS A CAT, NOT A RACCOON!" I shout. Mr. Pancake tries to escape from my arms, but I hold him tighter.

"Hadley June!" Aunt Caroline snaps from the living room.

So that's where she was.

"There is no need to scream in the house!" Aunt Caroline screams.

"Hypocrite!" I call at her.

The sound of blundering footsteps arrives from the living room.

"What did you just call me?" Aunt Caroline breathes, her face laced in anger.

"Hypocrite." I repeat slowly.

She lunges for me, attempting to smack me right across the face. I duck quickly, still holding onto Mr. Pancake. She reaches for him, trying to pry him from my hands.

"Don't you fucking touch my cat," I growl lowly.

"It's not your cat." Aunt Caroline justifies.

"Well, it's nobody else's." I argue.

"That doesn't make it yours."

"If Mr. Pancake wants to be mine, then yes it does."

"I will not allow slimeballs in my house!" Aunt Caroline shouts.

"Good fuckin' thing it's not your house!" I shoot back.

Aunt Caroline purses her lips tightly.

"And if you think that you have any control on me, then you're wrong." I hiss at her.