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A Bad Idea 122

Cat lay in bed confused, unsure of the hour.

Why’s it so hot in here? she wondered. But why does it also feel so… oh.

She opened her eyes and saw George standing there in the dark, drunk, illuminated only by the flames jumping off his one shoulder.

“D’you want pancakes?” Cat mumbled, stretching.


“I’ll take ‘Things You Don’t Expect Your Kidnapper to Say’ for 500.” Good old Cat. She always knew what not to say. Then she said it anyway.

“I’m serious,” George said. “You gotta go.”

“That wasn’t our deal.”

“Our deal was…” George stopped mid-sentence, wondering why it was always so hard to talk to Cat (he literally never once came up with the answer, ‘because I kidnapped her’). He took out half the money he’d promised her — a big wad of it — and threw it on the bed. “Go.”

Cat looked at the money. “That’s only half.”

“I shouldn’t have done what I did.” George scratched his head, like it was so damn hard to come up with the words he was saying. “I need to be honest with my wife, tell her when things are wrong.”

Cat smiled, picking up the cash. “That was just what I wanted you to say.” She got out of bed and walked to the door.

George was shellshocked. “What?”

“I’m leaving,” Cat said. “There was a plan behind all of this, you know. I wanted you to come to the realization that you needed to be more honest with your wife.”

“Wow,” George said, nodding his head. “Really?”

In truth, Cat was totally bullshitting him. But she liked how wise and condescending this made her sound, so she said, “Yes.”

With that, she walked out of the door and out of the house. Took a breath of fresh air, and drove off in George’s now-stolen car.

What was he going to do, call the cops on the person he kidnapped?

Cat laughed.

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