I Unintentionally Became Her Kitten

Chapter 15: Making Bread

Alisha got up some time later, and I followed, yawning and stretching as I still felt tired, but also like I wouldn’t be able to sleep much anymore.

“I’m gonna shower, Kitty,” she told me as I started to trail behind her.

“Mm,” I acknowledged. The fact that she might want privacy didn’t sink in for a few more seconds when I mumbled, “make coffee,” and started toward the stairs.

She smiled amused by something  and I hesitated.

“Just don’t hurt yourself, okay?” she requested.

“Ok,” I answered and began down the steps to the downstairs.

The house was still silent. There were birds chirping outside but they were significantly more muffled than I would expect.

It took a little more waking up to put coffee grounds in the machine and then the water and turn it on.

My stomach felt a little cranky and I thought some food might help settle it. Coffee-smell began to swirl around the kitchen as the machine buzzed and grumbled its way through the morning routine.

The fridge was full of new food. Fruit and vegetables, some bundles in brown paper I suspected were cuts of meat or fish, a fresh carton of both almond and dairy milk, cheeses, bacon (the expensive kind), butter, eggs, and a new loaf of bread. Everything I could want to make some breakfast for us. Alisha had so far been the only one to cook but maybe now I could return the favor for once. Although, I didn't know how to cook much, but I could cut up some fruit maybe.

She had knives somewhere, I knew, but they weren't on the counter and after checking the first couple drawers determined they weren't in with the utensils either.

I heard the front door, with its gentle suction sound, and stood up, alert.

Alisha was still upstairs, I was sure, and who would stop in this early?

I crept over to the wall, pressing flush against it.

The feeling of soft fabric pressing directly against my butt reminded me I wasn’t even dressed properly.

Of all the times to be lazy; I got too comfy with Alisha this morning and now I was going to get murdered with no panties and no bra.

If only I knew where the knives were I might have a fighting chance.

The waiting was made worse by the silence. It wasn't that someone wasn't moving somewhere out there, the house just didn't make much sound so I had no idea if or when someone might round the corner into the kitchen and see me.

I couldn't even call Alisha for help. No– I should warn Alisha since they were probably here for her.

But I didn't have my phone.

My indecision froze me for a long moment. If I left the kitchen I'd almost definitely get seen but Alisha didn't know about the danger at all so she wouldn't know to hide or anything 

I had to warn her.

I took a deep breath and steeled my nerves. I might be about to get stabbed but I wouldn't let Alisha get stabbed without a fight.

My best bet was speed, and grabbing Alisha and then getting out to the balcony and dropping down from the second story. It would probably hurt but it was better than death.

One more breath, and I dashed out of hiding into the hallway just to find myself skidding in an attempt to stop but still slammed into Tye full force as he was simply standing there, staring off into space.

There was an audible oof from both of us and he stumbled back, trying to catch his balance as I flopped backwards onto the ground.

“Miss?” He asked dazedly. “Are you all right?”

I panted and stared at him.

“I thought you were a murderer,” I managed.

He offered me a hand up, which I took, letting him pull me to my feet. I readjusted my clothes, worried about any malfunctions.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn't know you were down here.”

I was a little bruised, admittedly. Running into someone, even not full force, tended to be painful.

Alisha came down the steps then, a robe on and her hair pulled up in a towel.

“Is everything alright?” She asked. “I heard ruckus.”

“I'm fine,” I offered immediately. “I just thought there was an intruder.”

Alisha blinked and looked between Tye and I. “So you attempted to body slam him? Kitten, brute force is not your strong point.”

“I–I know.” I felt flushed and hot and way too embarrassed. “I'm gonna get dressed,” I said and retreated up the stairs.

Tye turned to address Alisha. “I should have knocked,” he said as I went. “That was my fault.”

Alisha nodded. “I didn't tell her you'd be here,” she replied. “I should be more open with her about…” her words faded as I got up to the second floor.

My face was still hot as I unsteadily grabbed some clothes from the closet and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

I still hadn't cleaned myself up since yesterday and I was now wary of smelling bad and hoped that hadn't been a thing that Tye had noticed. I had no idea how strongly I smelled but when I bent over to pick up my dirty clothes off the floor I could certainly smell myself.

The embarrassment did not fade easily. I showered quickly, got dressed and then slowly crept back down the stairs, hearing Alisha’s voice somewhere and wanting her reassurance.

She was in the  kitchen, with Tye and another man I recognized as one of her drivers, but as I came closer, I heard her address him as ‘Matteo.’

I stayed out of the way, observing the group from the doorway.

“We're also auditing Sergei today since he's been disorderly,” Alisha explained. “Normally I'd take you, Tye, but I want you to stay with Kitten today.”

“Yes,” was Tye’s automatic response.

Matteo nodded along. He was more imposing and I was rather grateful Alisha assigned Tye to me instead of him. Tye was lean and serious but Matteo was bulky and almost battle-hardened looking with a scowl on his face that wasn’t unlike Alisha’s, but his didn’t fade when he looked at me. He was also several inches taller than anyone else in the room. It was no wonder Alisha sent him to breathe down Sergei's neck the other day, I couldn’t think of someone who would intimidate someone more. How Alisha looked at him in the exact same manner she did everybody else, I did not know. I didn’t really want to associate with him at all, even if he had been neutral toward me so far.

Alisha picked up her purse, organizing a couple items within and then turned to the door, she approached me and pulled me into a half-hug. “Have a good day, Kitten,” she said softly. “I’ll be back later than I expected but feel free to use the kitchen or anything.”

I nodded. “Be safe,” I told her. I couldn’t help but feel uncertain watching her leave with a man twice her size to go deal with people who’d probably enjoy seeing her dead. But there was also nothing I could do about it.

“I’ll be fine,” she told me and gave my hair one last ruffle before continuing on. I stepped out of Matteo’s way as he passed. He gave me a nod of farewell and the two of them disappeared through the door to the garage.

I hesitated to move further from the doorway, still uncomfortable with Alisha disappearing like that, some part of me fretting that I might not see her again.

“She’s going to be okay,” Tye said.

“I… know,” I agreed. If she was as experienced as she acted, she knew what she was doing.

I turned, addressing Tye for the second time that day. “I’m so sorry I ran into you. I really thought you were an intruder and I wanted to warn Alisha but I can’t really fight so I figured running was the best option but you were just standing there…” I ended my rambling, realizing I had done it a bit too late.

“It’s okay. I’m fine. Though, if I had been an intruder and you hadn’t run directly into me, you would’ve just led me straight to her.”

That was true. I’d been thinking an intruder would find her regardless but Alisha probably had hiding spots around the house. That was a thing drug lords did, right? I imagined Alisha would have something similar.

I went quiet, having nothing to say to defend myself. It really had been rather stupid of me.

“It was brave,” Tye said. “I’m sure you knew the risks of revealing yourself.”

I nodded. “But Alisha was more important…”

He continued his patient gaze until I shook my head and turned to the coffee machine. The dark liquid had brewed already and it looked like Alisha had taken a cup.

“Would you like some coffee?” I offered.

He shook his head, going back to looking stoic.

I poured myself a mug and then added some milk to it. I inhaled deeply, letting the smell wash over me. I would never miss not having a simple cup of coffee in my hands.

I went to the table, half expecting Tye to follow but he hung back and stayed in the kitchen, leaning against the counter.

I drank my coffee and after a moment took out my phone to scroll through the settings. Alisha and I had entered a half dozen contacts into it, including her general cell phone for general use, her personal phone to use in case of emergencies, Tye’s number, Stella’s number and one more for Sara, who apparently watched the cameras but I had never seen nor met her.

The settings were still all defaults, which I was more or less content with but part of the fun of having my own phone would be customizing it.

I changed the lock screen to a picture of a cat and the home screen to a picture of another cat, set the ringtone to be a meow and the notification sound to be a purr.

I couldn't help but smile amusedly. It was stupid but it was also luxuriantly dumb. The majority of the time the sound would be turned off anyway and having cats as a phone background wasn't exactly strange.

I sipped my coffee, feeling at peace. Alisha knew how to make me happy. I needed to figure out a way to repay her so I should try to learn how to do something which meant I should try out baking.

The sunlight continued to strengthen as I finished the coffee, once again feeling the caffeine sinking in slowly until my blood was awake.

Baking, I remembered, and set my mug in the kitchen sink. I went back up the stairs, catching a glimpse of Tye staring out the front door, simply watching the way the tree leaves shifted in the breeze.

I grabbed that book and began to page through, looking for something not too challenging but not too plain either. My pick ended up being something called Pain d’epi with cranberry, feta and sage stuffing. It was a basic French bread that was rolled into a tube with the cranberries, feta and sage, then cut into one inch sections with just a tiny bit of the bottom attached so it could be arranged to look like a wheat stalk. It looked fancy but the dough was simple and I could take my time arranging it as I'd have far more than the suggested time to spend on it.

I went back downstairs with my baking book, set it up on the counter and helped myself to the bit of remaining coffee and began the process of learning how to make bread.

The dough was simple enough. Flour, water, yeast, salt and a bit of oil. The difficulty came in kneading it. I wiped down the counter and spread some flour out before trying to do the push and fold technique illustrated, but it was very strenuous on my scrawny arms. I felt the muscle working way harder than I expected to do half the necessary amount. I took a break halfway through and drank some water, looking at the mess I’d made. I’d have to clean later but I didn’t really know where any of the cleaning materials were.

My heart rate started to pick up, in part from the extra cup of coffee and physical exertion, but also because there was guilt starting to crawl back into my chest over getting Alisha’s house so dirty.

Then I took a deep breath. It wasn’t a big deal to do some cleaning. If I needed help finding equipment, I was certain Tye would know where things were. If not… Alisha would understand. She hadn’t cast me out when I was absolutely disgusting from the streets. I didn’t think she would cast me out for some flour on the counters and floor.

Feeling more relaxed I turned back to the dough, and went at it again, folding and pushing down with my weight, turning it ninety degrees, then folding and pushing again. Over and over until it became more smooth and less tacky. It was time for the first rise.

I found a large mixing bowl, spread a little oil along the bottom and sides and dropped the dough in, covering it with a damp tea towel I found in a drawer and which was most definitely clean.

Done for now. I could breathe a little easier and get the counters cleaned up.

I found a brush and dustpan hanging in the pantry, a space I hadn’t really explored much if at all so far. It was very narrow, through a doorframe about two-thirds the normal width. This was also where Alisha had flour and sugar and salt, but the shelves were only half-full. There were some crackers and different kinds of dried fruit and nuts and even some pasta and rice, but compared to pantries or kitchen cabinets I’d been in before, it was empty.

The dustpan was hung on a hook toward the floor, away from the food. I took it and swept up the flour off the floor before pulling the trash can out from under the sink and sweeping the stuff off the counter into it. Even that little bit of work made the kitchen feel much cleaner. A brief wipedown with a damp paper towel and everything felt like new.

I remembered cleaning being harder than that. Since her counters were near-flawless slabs of stonework, things tended to lift far easier off of them than worn plastic and vinyl. There also was no need to worry about using too much water as the seams and junctions were carefully put together. Liquid didn’t seep down into them so no mold or insects would be able to fester in the crevices.

It was very nice to have a kitchen that was well-built.

I turned back to the baking book to look at the filling ingredients. There was feta cheese in the fridge and cranberries in the pantry but sage and a small amount of ricotta was missing. I would also use the entire container of feta cheese and that might be frustrating for Alisha later on…

But I’d already made the dough so it would be a waste to change recipes now. It would’ve been a good idea to take inventory before starting the recipe.

Could I order a delivery? No, I didn’t know the address here, let alone if Alisha would tolerate a random stranger approaching her front door. I hadn’t yet worked out all of the implicit rules of this household.

On top of that, I had no money. I didn’t even have access to my bank account, not that it had any money either. 

I could just make it without sage, I supposed, but that might mean it would taste bad.

It wasn’t until I heard Tye shuffling in the other room that I remembered he was there primarily for security, but also to make sure I had access to things like the grocery store.

I swallowed down another sense of nervousness and restless anxiety and approached where I heard him.

He was sitting on the steps, back slouched to look down at his phone as his head leaned against the banister. He looked up at the sound of me.

“Is everything alright?” he asked.

“Uh– I-I,” my words stumbled for a few seconds before I simply stopped and started over. “I need to go to the store,” I explained. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

He stood, making me take a step back as he was still taller than me and on top of that was a couple steps up the stairs so he flat-out towered over me.

“I’ll take you,” he said calmly and stepped down, helping my nerves ease again. “I would actually appreciate stretching my legs.”

“Thank you,” I said. I unintentionally found myself dipping my head to him in some strange form of respect somewhere between a nod and a bow.

“Anytime,” he said. “I’ll get the car if you need to get ready at all.”

I didn’t understand what he meant but went up to the bedroom to quickly neaten my hair up and stopped when I saw myself in the mirror.

I had flour all down my front in dusty smudges and a few handprints. That was what he meant. I changed into some fresh clothes.