How to Tame a Cat (ManxMan)

Chapter Twenty-Three: Bad Choices

When he does not immediately reply, I hold the phone away from my ear to make sure neither of us accidentally hung up. However, that does not appear to be the case. Suddenly, there is a loud clatter on the other end that sounds like someone picking it up. How come I didn't hear him put it down? "Pack a bag. The second your sister leaves, I expect you on my doorstep," Dylan says, his voice practically radiating power. I can feel the power even through the phone.

Too bad for him, cats are immune. "He's not even here, Alpha," I scoff, using his favorite nickname in hopes of soothing his little wolfy ego.

A mocking tone and soothing words apparently should not be used in the same sentence. "Cade, I'm serious. If you don't drive straight here, I'll come get you myself," Dylan threatens, very far from soothed.

"Okay, now you're just being an idiot," I snarl. Counting to ten in my head, I try to keep myself from mentally strangling him. When that fails to work, I try hitting my head against the stone entryway. "Ryland won't be back until Monday night. I'll stop by if it makes you feel any better, but I'm not spending the night. I have too much homework to do."

Another long silence follows, but I can hear him breathing, assuring me that he has not disappeared again. "Fine, but don't you realize how dangerous this is?" Dylan asks, trying to convince me. I barely resist the urge to snort.

"It's only dangerous because you keep getting in his way and then I have to get between you two to stop the fight of the century," I argue, before snapping my phone shut. I am about to put it into my back pocket when I remember why I nearly had a heart attack this morning. Deleting the offending ringtone from my phone, I set it back to vibrate before entering the house with the intention of returning to my now-soggy cereal, which I will soon be dumping down the drain.

"That was quite the conversation," my sister says as I try to close the door quietly behind me. Though, since she is awake, I just slam the door closed like I normally would, making her wince.

She is leaning against the entryway wall, keeping me from going into my living room. "What do you want?" I ask, rubbing my face to keep from snapping at her, too. I really hate having to argue with Dylan, especially when the argument remains unresolved. However, that does not mean I am willing to just let it go.

"Nothing," she confesses, turning to give me room to pass. Doing just that, I turn into the kitchen and dump my cereal out. Normally I would at least try to finish it, soggy or not, but my appetite has diminished after that phone call and now I just want to do something that will occupy my mind.

Much to my relief, Heather seems to have caught onto that. "Monopoly or Stratego?" She asks, holding up the two board games when I exit the kitchen.

"Monopoly," I answer immediately. Strategy games in the early morning would be a bad idea, but Monopoly is best at any time of the day. Plus, no one will ever play with me, making me long for an opponent. "I call the cowboy."

- - - - - - -

"Where are you?" Dylan demands through the phone, which is being pressed to my ear by my shoulder.

I take a turn into one of the residential areas of town, one that has more townhouses than actual homes. From what I understand, most of these buildings are owned and rented out for a period of time while the owners are away to allow them to be paid while on vacation. Dylan told me this is quite common this time of year, though he never explained why. This isn't exactly skiing season, after all.

"I'm just taking a quick detour. There's this guy I need to talk to about something and he leaves town in a couple of days," I explain, attention focused on the street numbers as I try to find he number Evan gave me. 1068...1070...