Chapter 15
“Go fish.”
Mitch heard the statement as if it had traveled through a long pipe to get to him. A bit muffled and echoing, he tried to make sense of the words. Aromas drew his attention. Cooked chicken. Broth. And people. Kitt. Cain.
There should be someone else. Where?
A small whiff of air answered his question. Calix’s unmistakable scent carried over to him.
His eyelids were simply too heavy to open, so he lay there, taking in the situation through means other than sight.
They’re using you as a f*****g table.
His inner cat’s annoyed voice filled his head. He replayed the statement. A f*****g table? As in…?
Get that rattled brain out of the gutter, pervert, his cat hissed at him.
Mitch struggled to make sense of things. Fuzziness remained, clouding his perception.
“Do y
