Heart of Cinder

by P. Jameson

  “I will.”

  “How are you feeling? Is there something I can do for you?”

  Janet settled on the edge of the couch. “I’m better, thank you. I was wondering if you had sewing supplies I could barrow. Needle and thread?”

  Mama Kitty stood and began rifling through a cabinet. “Sure. What kind do you need? I’ve got every color of thread in the rainbow. Heavy needles, long ones. Got a sewing machine too, if you’d rather use it.”

  “Don’t know my way around one of those.”

  “Never used one?”

  Janet shook her head. “Never took Home Ec in high school. More interested in biology in college.” She shrugged. “After that, never had the chance.”

  “Hmm. Maybe we can remedy that sometime, if you’re feeling up to it.”

  Janet tried to smile. Mama Kitty was kind.

  She knew there had been some bad blood between her and Marlee. Ratchet was still angry at his mother for what she’d done. But it was clear Mama Kitty was trying to make up for it by making the girls feel at home in the cold warehouse.

  “Black thread. Something thick. Heavy duty. And… whatever sort of needle will work on leather.”

  Mama Kitty switched to rummaging through a set of drawers. “Leather, huh?”

  Janet nodded, hoping she wouldn’t ask for specifics. But the woman’s eyebrows raised expectantly, requiring more.

  “I’m uh… well, I’m going to repair Smokes’s jacket. The one he was wearing when he got shot.”

  “Oh. Hm.” She pulled out a spool of black thread and a variety of needles, setting them on the desk.

  “Is it a bad idea?”

  “Doing something nice for Smokes? No, I don’t think it’s a bad idea exactly.”

  “What does exactly mean?”

  Mama Kitty turned to stare at Janet, her lips pursed as if she was trying to choose her words carefully. “Can we be frank, you and me?”

  Janet blinked at the change that came over Mama Kitty. Happy-go-lucky one moment, concerned the next. “Yes. I prefer it.”

  “Does Smokes truly think the baby is his?”

  Janet swallowed hard, unwilling to answer. She knew what Smokes told the others. He’d said it was necessary, and she trusted him to know. The Alley Cats were still trying to settle after all that had happened with Bastian and losing Felix. There was a new leader, new matings. It was a rocky time, and part of her wondered if they would’ve even let her stay had Smokes not claimed the baby was his.

  She just didn’t know.

  And so she couldn’t tell Mama Kitty the truth.

  “It’s a lie he would believe easily,” she continued. “He always wanted to be father. He never let anyone know it, but if you watched close enough, you could tell. I could tell. It came to him naturally, the way he used to look after the boys. They were only a few years younger, but it was enough that he felt responsible for them.”

  Janet remembered what he’d shared with her that night in her bed. How he’d tried to protect the others from the brutal Fathers, and her heart clenched.

  “What I’m saying is…” Mama Kitty sighed. “He deserves the truth. If this baby isn’t his, tell him. Because—and if you repeat this to anyone, I’ll deny it—he’s got a fragile heart and he guards it more diligently than anyone I’ve ever seen. Don’t…” She looked away, her voice betraying her emotion. “Don’t hurt him.”

  Mama Kitty loved Smokes very much. She loved them all. Even the ones who didn’t deserve it.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure, hon.”

  “Why do you love them so much?”

  Mama Kitty drew in a hard breath and crossed her arms, thinking. “They’re my boys,” she said finally. “I can’t help but love them.”

  “Even when they were bad.”

  “They’re still bad. And they still need love. Sometimes the bad ones need it even more.”

  “Even though they’ve hurt you?”

  She nodded, the side of her lip curling sadly. “I’ve hurt them too.” What she’d done to Marlee. “None of us are as innocent as we wish we were.”

  “True.” Janet looked at her hands where they twisted in her lap. “This baby… this baby is. Innocent. Probably the only innocent thing about me anymore. And I don’t even know if I can love it.”

  Mama Kitty was quiet as Janet’s words sank in. She hadn’t come right out and said it, but the woman was intuitive to know what she meant. That she didn’t know who fathered the child.

  “You don’t love a baby because of who the father is. Trust me on that. Ratchet’s father was the worst of them.”

  “What makes you love one then?”

  “Every journey is different, I expect. But I think the first step is to love yourself.”

  Love yourself.

  If that’s what it took, then her baby was doomed. Because Janet didn’t love anything about herself. Not her body or heart or mind. Not the fact that she was free for the first time in ages. How could she love herself after all the horrible things she’d done. The things she let others do to her. What was there even left to love? She felt like she was riddled with holes. Holes that were rotted into her. Rot that would spread to anyone or anything she got too close to.

  Including the baby.

  Janet swallowed the thick lump in her throat. It wouldn’t help to dwell on these things. It would only make her sick again. She had to keep moving forward. Keep taking steps to get better.

  Maybe you were supposed to confront your demons, but she thought the better way was to ignore them until you were strong enough to stand and face them.

  She rose and gathered the supplies Mama Kitty placed on the desk. “Thank you,” she murmured and headed for the door. She would busy herself working on Smokes’s jacket. And when Dr. Gregory came, she would look at the baby through the ultrasound. She wouldn’t think about how ruined she felt. Not yet.

  Stepping out into the hall, she couldn’t help wandering past the stairs to get a look at Smokes’s door. Maybe she would just stop by and tell him thank you. Or check on his shoulder wound. Make sure he was keeping it properly bandaged.

  Small step in front of small step. She came closer, but it was all the way down at the end and this wasn’t a good idea—

  The door to his room swung open and voices spilled out. Smokes’s and one she didn’t recognize. Janet pressed back against a stack of empty pallets so that she could listen without being seen.

  “… sure, you can call me anytime. Use my cell if you want.”

  From a distance Janet could see the voice belonged to a woman. She faced the doorway and could only be seen from the back. She was tall and slender, wearing heels and a dark pencil skirt that ended just above her knees. A silky looking tank top was tucked into the waist and she slipped her arms into a matching jacket, shrugging it up her shoulders in a way that told Janet she was confident. Her skin was a perfect bronze that matched her curly shoulder length hair. Janet knew she was beautiful before she even turned around.

  “And thanks for the… you know…” Smokes added, brushing his palm over his jaw. His eyes flashed with a secret. A secret he shared with the beautiful mystery woman.

  The thought twisted Janet’s stomach.

  “You’re welcome,” she purred. “If you need anything else, just let me know. I’ll come right over.”

  He nodded, looking relieved.

  The woman turned to go and Janet finally got a look at her face. Yep, she was pretty. Pretty enough that any unmated cat in the warehouse would want her. And maybe even… well, maybe she was even Smokes’s true mate.

  An ache gripped Janet’s throat, threatening to make her eyes water.

  For the first time, she realized how much it would bother her to see him mated like the others. But didn’t he deserve to be happy like they were?

  Janet held her breath as the mystery woman passed and headed for the exit. When Smokes closed his door and the hallway was empty, she finally exhaled, bend
ing at the waist to keep her head from spinning.

  It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t matter. He can be with whoever he wants.

  A noise brought her head up just in time to see a form emerge from the shadows. A tall muscular form that she recognized but had never really spoken to. They called him Weaver, and like all the other Alley Cats, it probably wasn’t his real name.

  He approached Janet slowly, his cold gaze giving nothing away. “Are you well, female?”

  “Oh. Yes, I’m fine. Just uh… a little nauseated.”

  Weaver stared at her, measuring. “Why were you spying on Smokes?”

  “Spying? I wasn’t spying. I was um… on my way to tell him something, and saw that he had company.”

  Weaver’s jaw ticked as he glanced back at Smokes’s door.

  “Why were you spying on him?” Janet asked, and his gaze jerked back to her.

  “None of your business.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” She turned to walk away, but then couldn’t help herself. “Do you know who that woman is?”

  Weaver crossed his arms, nodding slowly. “I do.”

  Janet waited, hoping he’d give her a bone.

  “Toya Crest,” Weaver said, staring down the narrow hallway in the direction she’d gone. “Doctor Toya Crest.”

  The woman leaving Smokes’s room was the doctor he’d told her about. The one that helped Dr. Gregory get supplies.

  The pretty one she’d been jealous of before even seeing her.

  And now, seeing the doctor leaving his room felt like a brick on her chest.

  In through the nose, out through the mouth. Inhale, exhale. Breathe, breathe, breathe.

  Janet patterned her breathing to match her footfalls. Five steps in, five out. Over and over until she reached her room. Disappointment stung her eyes, but nothing felt worse than the wave of nausea the whole encounter conjured.

  Seeing the woman leave Smokes’s room explained so much. He was off limits. That’s why he wasn’t coming around anymore.

  Maybe for a few weeks before he learned the truth about the pregnancy, Janet had meant something to him. Maybe even when he thought she would die from sickness. But now…

  She pushed into her room and slammed the door behind her just in time as a sob pushed from her throat threatening her gag reflex.

  Now the only man she was willing to let close had found someone new to spend his attention on. Someone who had their life together. Someone beautiful and probably very kind and not broken.

  Someone not pregnant with a baby she shouldn’t have in her belly.

  No. No, no, no. She would not cry over this. Not this.

  Didn’t she want free of men? Smokes was just another man. This was the universe giving her what she wanted.

  But in her heart, she knew it wasn’t true. He wasn’t just another man, another monster. He was more.

  He was good.

  Too good for her.

  Chapter Ten

  Logan ended the call and shoved his cell phone into his pocket with shaking hands. To keep up the appearance of being busy, he flipped through a nearby chart and pretended to read.

  A week had passed since he was taken to the Alley Cat headquarters to care for Janet, and now he was back at work.

  Physically, anyway.

  His mind however, was still at the warehouse. Still puzzling over the women who lived there. Most of them timid and fragile by appearance. But there was something about them. Something that made them strong, and he couldn’t name it. Couldn’t even guess at it.

  One got under his skin more than the others.

  Leah.

  She was the leader’s mother, but she was more like a mother to them all, the way she took care of them. She appeared concerned about Janet’s pregnancy, which made Logan feel better about leaving the woman there. Between Leah and Marlee, it seemed Janet had the help she needed.

  For now.

  Even still, something nagged at the doctor. He knew all wasn’t as it seemed with the Alley Cats.

  He knew because once upon a fucked-up time, his mother had dated one of them. Ricardo was his name, but they called him Reaper. He looked the part, always wearing a dark hooded trench coat that hid his eyes and a snarl that scared the shit out of six-year-old Logan.

  The relationship hadn’t lasted long, but it ended with his mother penniless, pregnant, and alone in a shitty apartment. And even if it was just a small part of Logan’s life, it was enough to leave a lasting impact. Partly because of the man who until this morning, laid unconscious in Intensive Care.

  Felix.

  Fucking Felix who had awoken sometime in the middle of the night and snuck out of the hospital. Snuck right past the nurses and security, like some kind of convict. Which meant he had his memory back.

  Felix from Logan’s past.

  They were both six years old at the time, but Felix was meaner and tougher than Logan could ever hope to be. The old scars on his back that Toya read aloud from the chart… Logan had been there for some of them. Right there, while the boy bled and held back his tears in the face of a man scarier than Reaper. A man, Felix called father. Right there, while Logan’s mother hugged him close and promised nothing like that would ever happen to him.

  And it didn’t.

  She’d become pregnant before it could, and somewhere in the world, Logan had a half-sister he didn’t even know. Would never know. Because an Alley Cat named Reaper stole her away, and disappeared.

  But Logan had left that part of his life behind. Far, far behind. He’d moved on. Forgiven. Even forgotten, most days. He wasn’t poor anymore. He wasn’t that scared six-year-old little boy. He was a distinguished doctor who dedicated his life to helping people.

  Logan returned the chart to the shelf and pulled a new one free, ignoring the way Nurse Mona stared at him curiously.

  The click clack of heels against the tile floor brought his face up in time to see Toya coming down the hall. She gave a slight shake of her head but sidled up to the desk as if nothing at all was the matter.

  Logan continued reading his chart. “Dr. Crest.”

  “Dr. Gregory,” she answered.

  “Ready to get started on rounds?”

  “Sure thing,” she said easily.

  They walked away from the nurses’ station and past the elevators before she said the words that made his lungs finally take a full breath.

  “He’s not there. No sign of him.”

  Logan nodded, keeping his relief to himself. Because Felix not returning to the warehouse might mean the females were safer, but it didn’t mean the trouble was over.

  “Why not just tell them he was here?” Toya asked. “Maybe he’s not as bad as you think. You know, the others seem safe enough—”

  Logan rounded on her. “None of them are safe. Don’t be fooled. They were part of an empire that hasn’t fully crumbled.” He had confided in Toya about the mob boss Bastian Marx, and the way most of the city had worked for him, fucked him, or was terrified of him. He shook his head. “As long as there are innocent woman there, we have to be watchful. I won’t let any of them be hurt.”

  She sighed. “You’re right.”

  “I know this is a huge responsibility.”

  She straightened her shoulders, pushing her chin forward. “I wanted to change lives, help people. If keeping quiet about this man does that, then I’ll keep quiet.” She crossed her arms over her chest, fighting a shiver. Logan felt the same sense of foreboding. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t remember where home is and find his way back.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Janet leaned back against the headboard and hugged her knees to her chest. The bed and most of the empty space on her floor was taken up by the women she’d shared a grimy dungeon with for the past twelve years. Marlee and Vegas had squeezed onto the mattress with her. Nyla lounged on the rug while Skye sat cross-legged with her back against the dresser.

  They’d come for answers, and brought food.

  Janet was grateful
that they didn’t start right in with the questions. No, her girls were smarter than that. They understood her more than anyone else could, even if they’d all been broken in their own way. They knew how to ease into the hard stuff with her.

  “Pass the cookies,” Nyla said, holding her hand out, palm up. She was the most recently mated of the Dolls, but she’d also spent extra time in Bastian’s possession. When the other girls were rescued, she’d been left behind. They had worked hard to get her free, and now, she was happily mated to the Firecat called Skittles. But she still had hard days. Janet suspected, by the shadows under her eyes, that this was one of them. “How does she make them taste so good anyway? There’s some kind of magic in them. Must be.”

  “Real butter,” Skye said quietly. “Both brown and white sugar. Extra chocolate chips. She showed me how so I could make them any time I wanted.” Skye was the only other unmated Doll. The only other one still stuck trying to heal and getting nowhere. In many ways, her and Janet were the most alike. They’d been through things the other girls hadn’t. Made choices the others wouldn’t. And they were both stuck on an exhausting merry-go-round of unrequitedness.

  Skye had secretly grown attached to Felix, the clan’s leader. But he was gone now, and she was sadder than ever. She kept busy cleaning the warehouse like a germaphobe and learning how to cook.

  “Mmm,” Nyla moaned as she chewed. “She show you anything else?”

  Skye nodded. “Pot roast. That peach ice cream she made last week. Cinnamon rolls.”

  Vegas’s eyes lit up. “The ones with nuts and butter frosting?” Vegas who was practically raised by Bastian had suffered the most and the longest. But she was also the most powerful of them now. Even more so than the Firecats.

  She was ice.

  An Ice Cat, supernatural like the rest, except when she shifted into her animal, she didn’t burn. In fact, she couldn’t burn. None of the beasts in the warehouse could hurt her, and no human could ever hope to again.

  Sometimes Janet wished she could be like her. Safe. Strong. Resilient.

  “Those are the ones,” Skye confirmed.