Page 41 of Feline Good

He just laughed and rolled out of the bed. “Like what? Reface the beer labels?”

Maya growled at his sarcasm, his little nip at her compulsive straightening. “Take down the Valentine's Day decorations.”

They groaned, and with a laugh, she traipsed over to her dresser to select a fresh pair of leggings and a shirt. Cute clothes could come later. For now, it was time to clean.

Chapter Ten

Maya wore the biggest, sappiest grin on her face. She probably resembled a puppy dog as she walked down to the bar. The guys had come down ahead of her, pulling out the storage boxes so they could begin de-hearting the bar area. The thought had crossed her mind to join them, but fuck, she was sore. They should carry all the boxes for her, since they’d fucked her so hard. It was nice though, a lovely, constant reminder that she had been had. And damned well, too.

Just the thought of the things they’d done together sent a shiver down her spine. The memory of the filthy yet delicious things she’d experienced at the hands of those three was enough for her stomach to clench. Maya didn’t know what it was about them, but the security she had with them seemed special. Maybe finally, after so long, laying everything out on the table gave her a new sense of comfort, of control.

Is that why I’m such a crazy control freak? Have I been trying to wrest back a control that I given up to Alex all along?

Maya grimaced and leaned down to move some boxes out of the way so she could place the step-stool and reach the decorations… and promptly shoved all the boxes too hard to the left, knocking a whole stack of empty crates over. Amongst the noise, she rose up and called out, “It’s all good,” to warn the guys away.

Wide-eyed, she stared at the mess of crates littering the bar floor. Glancing down, she flipped her hands over to stare at her palms, then back again.

Maybe the crates were lighter than she remembered? No. That wasn’t right. She scooted a step stool out of her way with her foot, and accidently kicked it into the wall across the aisle from her, the colliding wood louder than she wanted it to be. Gaping, she tiptoed across the room, as if afraid to make any more noise than she already had. Sure enough, when she picked up the stool, the thing seemed light as a feather. Frowning, Maya carefully sat it down before tiptoeing to the back door, past the kitchen. As she stepped into the alley, the cool afternoon breeze brushed tendrils of her hair around, and she smiled at the peacefulness, even as she looked for her next experiment.

She spied the cinder block next to the brick wall on her left, and Maya cracked the door just a smidge before stalking over to it. Grimacing, she leaned down and deftly picked up the cinder block. With one hand. Barely straining her muscles.

“Huh. How about that.” Maya stared, shocked at the ease with which she held the damned thing. Normally, the cinder block would have required both hands underneath, propping the block against her stomach as she penguin-walked to the back door to hold it open on hot nights.

It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine.

She would bring it up with the guys later.

As she returned to the bar area, she eyed the basement door, wondering what was taking them so long. Maybe they’d decided to search for the amulet amongst the cobwebs in the basement.

To calm her mind down from the mess it usually was, she pushed her strange strength out of her mind. Of course— her thoughts turned to the guys— could she truly handle what they were proposing?

For three years, she had been scrambling. It might not have seemed that way on her exterior, but Maya knew deep down, she’d been struggling. Living with the guilt of losing your last semblance of family while on rocky terms was not an easy thing.

Maya hadn’t been living; she had been surviving.

Not that she couldn’t make it alone, as she had proven these past few years. But Maya had always wanted someone to share her life with. She feared that was why she latched onto Alex so fiercely and ignored the signs.

Doubt crept in. Was she repeating past mistakes?

At this moment, with giddiness bubbling up in her veins like freshly poured champagne, Maya thought about it all. Living. Could she actually enjoy life now that she had someone to share it with? Three someone’s?

Was it crazy? Yes. But not unheard of. This was the twenty-first century, after all.

Maya paused— analyzing her thoughts like she was so used to doing. It was something she had learned from being with Alex. Was what she felt true, or was it something she fabricated to cope?

This whole situation, should she ever say it out loud, would pair nicely with a straitjacket. But as she studied the feelings inside like a cell under a microscope, she recognized them as genuine.

“Call me crazy but…” this feels right, she finished the thought in her head.

For now, Maya was content to ride the wave of euphoria still carrying her. She didn’t believe she was making a mistake. Amir, August, and Asher weren’t anything like Alex. She felt stupid for even entertaining the thought.

Better stupid than dead, though. And Maya knew that’s where she would be if she hadn’t finally recognized Alex for what he was; a controlling, abusive, asshole.

Now, she could finally sit back, relax, and for once, enjoy her evening. And she had plenty of reasons to do so.

“Now if we could just find the amulet, defeat Sekhmet and her goons, and…”

Asher interrupted her, a smile in his voice. “Are you talking to yourself again, crazy girl?”