Page 2 of Feline Good

Maya spoke as they danced around each other in the small space as only those who have worked together for a while can do. “He’s our mascot, besides he practically came with the bar.” She eyed the cat she’d fondly dubbed Pharaoh before stepping around Theo to take a new drink request. He laughed at her love for the ceramic kitty, but he had belonged to her parents and was near and dear to her heart.

Before they knew it, the end of the night had come, and Maya ignored the groans of the needy customers as she rang the bell, signaling last call. Theo began their closing ritual, wiping down the empty tables, while Maya began gathering abandoned bottles from the rest. Between the two of them, it wasn’t long before they ushered the last customer out the door to his waiting rideshare. They might be drunk idiots, but they were her drunk idiots, and Maya would be damned before she let one of her customers drive home inebriated.

“Theo, I think I’ve got it here, if you’d like to go on home.” Her voice echoed around the empty bar; the rest of the staff had already left for the evening.

At his doubtful look, Maya reassured him with a smile. “Come on, I know you want to spend time with Chris on Valentine’s Day. Why don’t you take a bottle of wine home to make up for the late hours?”

It took a little more cajoling, but Theo finally relented, a tired grin spreading across his pretty face as he sauntered into the pantry for the wine. With a grateful smile and a kiss on the cheek, he disappeared out the back door to head home. Maya sighed as she firmly shut the door, a sure twist of the deadbolt locking her in.

The beautiful silence of the empty bar was Maya’s favorite part of each evening. Jogging up the stairs to her apartment, she unlatched the chain blocking the door off, and unlocked the door to her safe space. Three black cats swarmed her, their precious, sweet meows music to her ears as she made her way through the tiny living room, maneuvered around the loom, down the short hallway, and landed in her bedroom. She needed to charge her phone while she cleaned the bar if she wanted to finish reading the new e-book she’d started. As she inserted tab A into slot B, the green lightning bolt and a chime announced that her phone was getting ready for action. Satisfied with her ingenious time management, she left to finish her nightly tasks.

Returning to the bar with the kitties’ tiny paws padding after her, she spent another thirty minutes tending to the tedious, but necessary task of cleaning every surface. A furry body got in her way several times in the process as her three cats tried to nudge her for attention. She only permitted her fur babies to roam through the building and into the deserted bar after hours. Maya hated keeping them cooped up all day, but with the constant flow of customers coming and going, she didn’t want to risk them escaping into the busy street outside.

Fluffy, the longest haired black cat rubbed up against her legs. When she glanced down and saw his cute little face peering up at her, she couldn’t take it anymore. Faster than he could escape, she reached down and grabbed him up in her arms, planting kisses all over his furry little head. Maya mumbled nonsense as she rocked back and forth while giving her fur baby some lovins.

“Oh, I just love you so much! You’re so freaking adorable. Cutest little fluffy-butt ever. Yes, you are. I love you so much.”

He tensed in her arms a split second before an irritated growl warned her he wasn’t happy.

She pulled away and glared down at him. “Don’t get grumpy with me. You asked for it! Now take it!” After planting one last kiss on the top of his furry head, she let him jump down. He landed on his four paws and trotted off, tail twitching in irritation.

Her heart full, she headed to the kitchen.

Deciding to make good use of the leftovers, she dished them into to-go plates, bagged them up, and snuck out the back door while the cats were distracted. It took her less than a minute to walk to the end of the back alley, leave the packaged food for the homeless, and return. As soon as she turned her back and walked a few feet, the rustle of the plastic bags came like clockwork, and she smiled to herself as she returned to the bar. Maya knew firsthand what it was like to depend on someone else for her next meal, and she tried to leave food out for others in need as often as possible.

After locking the back door, she found Tubbi lounging on one of the tables, sprawled out in front of the TV as if he could actually understand what was playing. A Buffy the Vampire Slayer rerun was on, and Maya watched the blonde babe stab an undead, turning it into dust as she continued her chores. Fluffy glared at her from his vantage point on the last stair; probably waiting for her to crack open a can of tuna. Muffin, however, constantly followed her, meowing to get her attention, hoping for a belly scratch. Smiling at his furry body weaving in and out between her feet, she tried to avoid stepping on the little guy.

After the bar was swept, mopped, and ready for the next business day, she stood for a moment to take in the quiet, even going so far as to crack a beer open for herself, before double-checking the front door lock.

Suddenly, the sound of glass shattering echoed from the back of the bar. Hoping it was the conclusion to one of her cat’s curiosities, she slowly turned. Unfortunately, she spied all three of her cats on alert, ears perked to the sounds echoing down the hallway from the kitchen. Mumbled curses and the loud screech of the old back door opening filtered through to her from the out-of-sight kitchen and down the short hallway. Fear shot down her spine, and chills spread across her skin in dread. Her cats reacted first, all three of them hissing as their fur bunched up, before they scattered.

See if I feed you extra treats again, you traitors!

Maya followed suit, sliding behind the bar and hiding, heart in her throat. Memories from long ago threatened to overwhelm her, memories of a rainy, dark evening. Remembering the mistakes made, she slid her hands frantically over her pockets before cursing to herself, searching for her phone. Of course, tonight of all nights I had to leave it charging upstairs. Perfect.

From the herd of footsteps sounding down the hallway, more than one intruder made their way towards her, and she soon heard a gruff voice dispersing muffled orders. Forcing herself to keep calm, Maya reached under the bar and grabbed the bat she kept for emergencies, wishing it was a gun instead. Keeping her footsteps light, she darted over to the walk-in pantry beside the cash register, quietly pushing the door open and tucking herself away between an inset of shelves. She just needed time to think.

Maya froze. She didn’t know if it was the bottle of Jack to her left, the extra pint glasses to her right, or the deja vu of hiding between the same shelves fifteen years later… but it dawned on her why her parents hadn’t called the cops all those years ago; the first time the bar had been broken into.

This was now her fucking bar. Her entire family, for generations, had owned this place, pouring decades of blood, sweat, and tears into it. She’d be damned if some assholes were gonna get the best of her; especially not with the training Uncle Malak had drilled into her.

A voice broke her out of her reverie, and she gritted her teeth. One of the attackers spoke, his deep voice heavily accented, and a lot closer than she thought possible. They moved quickly. Efficiently, too, if the distinct orders to start searching were anything to go by.

“Come out, little mouse, we know you’re in here.” Voice full of snide derision, his steps grew closer to her hiding spot, the sounds muffled through the door. At his tone, her hands curled around the cool metal of the bat as she prepared to defend herself and her fucking bar.

Maya wasn’t dumb though, even with years of training from her uncle, she knew calling the cops was still the smartest thing… if only she hadn’t been too cheap to update the bar phone from an old landline with a stretch cord. As it was, they were moving too fast for her to risk stopping and dialing the police.

A knocking sound filtered in through the pantry, but not on the door leading into her hiding place. No, the bastard was playing with her, baiting her, tapping his knuckles against the polished wood of her bar as if he had all the time in the world.

Maya swallowed her hesitation with a healthy dose of rage, and drew up her courage, steeling her spine on a deep inhale. Taking care to remain silent, she left her hiding space, stalking up to the crack between the frame and the swing door. Waiting...waiting… until, yes, the light creeping in was eclipsed by a man’s shadow. She shoved her shoulder into the door, the motion jarring her as the guy stumbled from the force of the old wood hitting him. A curse exploded from him as she followed through, kicking the back of his knee and sending him crashing to the floor. Without sparing the man another thought, she cranked the bat back beside her head and swung it to the side, hitting a home run as the bastard fell forward with a thud. She grimaced at the ugly sound of the aluminum bat colliding with his head before she saw his weapon. Thankfully, it wasn’t a gun, but a… a fucking short sword? And a strangely curved one at that, like a short C shape stuck on a hilt. Whatever. She grabbed it, figuring it would make a better weapon than her blunt, now dented, bat.

Stepping around the unconscious man, she started forward, planning to make a mad dash for the stairs. Instead, another man, this one even taller than the first, turned the corner of the hallway, backing her up behind the bar.

“Don’t try to run. We have some questions for you. Now, be a good little girl, and come with us.” He ambled towards her with leisurely steps, barely sparing a glance for his partner she’d knocked out. Sheer stubbornness, pride and willpower fueled her as she stood to face the intruder head on, refusing to go down without a fight. Maya was tiny compared to the giant, her measly five-foot-two-inch vantage point giving her a nice view of the underside of his chin. Knowing the size difference would be a challenge, even with her training, she calculated how to lull the intruder into a false sense of complacency.

Playing the submissive captive while yet another giant filed in behind him, she dropped her shoulders, and with her head hanging forward, she let the weapon go limp in her hand. Just as he reached for her, she tightened her grip on the handle of the short sword and swung it up, gritting her teeth as, with a small cry, she sliced deep into his arm like a hot knife through butter.

He yelled out, clamping his opposite hand to the injury, and she turned away from them, using the upturned crate as a launching pad to slide across the bar and land on the opposite side. The third man, tall, blonde, and scary, wielded a matching short sword as he prowled forward, body tensed and ready to lunge at any second, looking every bit the predator stalking its prey. Fortunately, bar stools and low tables separated them.