Page 15 of Protecting Zoey

8

ZOEY

I’ve woken up to another life. Bags and boxes cover the floor, and garment bags have been hung in the closet. Others are draped over the bed. While I waited for what I thought would be a few items of clothing for me to wear, a nice woman by the name of Madge came to my room with a tray of food and a robe for me to put on so that the men could deliver the boxes.

She said the robe was for the men’s safety. I’m not sure what she meant by that. If she was referring to what happened earlier between Bentley and one of the security guards, then I think a cage would have been better for the delivery peoples’ safety. But they didn’t have to worry because I held Bentley in my arms as they filled the room with enough clothes to open my own store. A girl could definitely get used to this sort of treatment.

No matter how many times I remind myself that all of this is temporary and not to get accustomed to any of it, I can’t help but feel excited. No one has ever treated me the way Leone is.

Xanny would die if she saw all this. We’re not the same size, so she wouldn’t be able to wear any of the clothes. She’s tall and thin where I’m short and curvy, but we do wear the same size shoes. If she were here, she’d steal the heels and tell me it’s for my own safety. I smile, hearing her in my head. She wouldn’t be wrong. I’m terrible in heels. Most days I’m lucky that I don’t trip over my own two feet.

Another knock sounds at the door. My stomach flutters with excitement when I think it might be Leone. When the knock sounds again, I know it’s not him. He would have walked right in after he knocked, not waiting for me to tell him to come in.

“Come in,” I say, picking Bentley up from the bed. I’m still nervous from earlier, even though I know what happened wasn’t Bentley’s fault. It’s better if I keep him close for now.

“We brought some things for Lucifer,” one of the guys says as he enters the room. He’s holding a litter box and a few bags. The other guy's arms are just as full. Leone had a few things brought in last night to hold Bentley over. But it looks as though Bentley is getting spoiled today too.

“His name is Bentley,” I inform them, not appreciating the nickname they’ve given my little fur angel. I kiss the top of his furry head to prove how cuddly and loveable he is.

“Right,” the man responds, setting everything down on the floor by the door. The other man does the same. “How about you make sure the cat stays in your room? We wouldn’t want something to happen to him.”

I gasp. “It was an accident. He got scared. This place is new to him.” I hold Bentley tighter to my chest.

“Like I said. I’d make sure he stays put. Might end up with a bullet in him.” With that, both men turn and leave. I set Bentley down on the bed and run over to lock the door. Anger unlike any I’ve ever felt before courses through my body.

“They think because we’re little they can pick on us. They’re a bunch of bullies.” I start ripping through the bags to find something to wear.

I snag the first pair of jean shorts I come across, sliding them on before I find a light pink blouse. I almost choke when I see the price tag on it. I rip it off and flip through a few boxes of shoes until I find some white sneakers that have cute little jewels on the sides of them. I can’t even enjoy them because I’m too mad.

It’s one thing to push me around, but it’s another to go for a defenseless, scared cat. Bentley has been my rock through everything. I’ve spent so much time by myself. Xanny was always scared someone might report us and that Child Services would pay a visit and find out she wasn’t my guardian. I’d only been fifteen when she’d taken me from my parents. So Xanny knew they would have taken me and either returned me to my parents or put me into the system.

It’s only been over the last few months we didn’t have to worry about that anymore. I’ve aged out, past the time anyone would even bother to care about what happens to me, not that Child Services ever really did. But for two years, Bentley was not only my best friend but my only one. There is no way in hell that I’m going to stand for anyone threatening him. I might not be able to save my sister, but I won’t stand by and let someone hurt my sweet baby. They’ll have to deal with me first.

I grab all the cat stuff and quickly set it up in the bathroom. “Benny, look what Leone got you,” I call from the bathroom as I set the fluffy cat bed down. I’ve never felt material so soft before. Okay, those other guys might be jerks, but Leone got Bentley all of these wonderful things that I could never afford.

Bentley pokes his head into the massive bathroom. It’s easily half the size of our trailer. If this is a guest bathroom, I can’t fathom what the master bathroom might look like.

“Come.” I pat the bed. He trots over toward it and gives it an inspection before he gets on it and turns in a few circles before finally plopping down. “See, it’s nice. You’re going to stay here while I’m gone. Take a little nap, and I’ll be back before you know it.”

I grab the container of treats and give him a handful before I leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I feel a bit safer leaving him there. I glance around the room to find something that I can use. My eyes land on the fireplace that has a fire poker in the stand next to it. I walk over and pull it out. It’s a bit heavier than I thought it would be, but it will do.

When I step out of my bedroom, I’m not really sure where I’m going or what I’m planning to do. But then I spot him. The man who threatened Bentley is standing at the end of the hallway talking to the other man that had been with him. They both turn their heads to look my way.

Can I really threaten someone? They did it to Bentley and well, me too. I’d bet anything they wouldn’t have said that to Leone. That’s because bullies pick on people they don’t think will fight back or that are smaller than them.

“Make sure you shut that door,” he calls down the hallway.

I grip the fire poker tighter in my hand.

“What’s she got?” I hear the other one say. I start to march down the hallway toward them. I lift the poker and rest it on my shoulder like a batter heading to the plate.

“Listen here, you jerk faces! If you come in my room or anywhere near my cat, I’ll—I’ll…” I stumble to find the right words. “I’ll make you regret the day you were ever born!”

They both take a couple steps back from me, putting their hands up. “You hear me?” I hiss at them, making sure I get my point across.

“We hear you,” the one who hadn’t even made the threat says. I glare at the other one, making sure he knows I mean business.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean any harm.” Funny how he’s suddenly singing a different tune.


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