Happy Friday, lovelies! I decided to start a new storyline! I thought I'd add a sassy cat in this one because that's always fun! lol Enjoy this week's prompt!



Writing Prompt ~ Run! (Provided by Doreen) Scene #1

“You know what, don’t look at me that way.” She cocked a brow. “You’re so damn judgmental.”
Brooke grabbed another mini powdered doughnut, chomping with emphasis as she stared at her annoying cat, Willow. She was a beautiful black and white tuxedo cat, but with so much sassiness, she thought she ruled the house. Which wasn’t too far off when Brooke really thought about it.
She wanted to be fed? Meowed and meowed until Brooke stopped whatever she was doing—sleep included—to stop the incessant noise.
She insisted on being petted? Nudged her furry face into her hands until Brooke gave her soft, little rubs under her neck. Her favorite spot.
Snack time? Yep. More meowing until she got her way.
Willow ruled the house, and Brooke honestly wouldn’t change a thing. Because when she needed comfort, Willow was there. When she needed company, Willow to the rescue. When she needed to vent about her tyrant boss—asshole with grabby hands—Willow always gave the best disgusting looks like she couldn’t believe the nerve the jackass had.
She could always count on Willow to be there for her. Reliable and steady.
Something she couldn’t say about anyone else in her life. How sad.
Hell, she could even rely on Willow to judge her as she ate another doughnut—number five to be exact. She was supposed to be on a diet. Something she tried every other month and always failed. No matter how many times Willow glared at her with her beady, green eyes, she always grabbed one more handful of whatever snack she caved in and bought.
What could she say? She loved food. Food loved her.
Meow.
Brooke rolled her eyes, and snatched her hand away from the bag of doughnuts. “Fine. I’ll stop. Quit with your hollering.”
Meow.
Then her tail flowed back and forth as she turned around and walked away. Of course with her head held high as if she were showing off her crown.
Brooke eyed the bag, then huffed with annoyance and walked away herself. She should’ve never bought the bag in the first place because she could devour a bag in one day all on her own. But it had been so tempting when she stopped at the store last night after work for milk, bread, and eggs. And after shoving her boss away from another latest attempt of getting in her pants, she had wanted to drown her sorrows in something. Since she didn’t drink—all alcohol just tasted nasty to her—she chose junk food as her poor-pity-me comfort food.
Honestly, she should just go to human resources about his behavior. But she couldn’t afford to lose her job, and he had overtly threatened firing her on numerous occasions.
The bastard.
She needed more of a backbone. She needed to stand up for herself.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow would be the day she’d go to human resources and file an official complaint against him.
Today she planned to eat a few more doughnuts—hey, she couldn’t let it go to waste—and enjoy her hooky day. She had called in sick, needing a day to herself. To get her emotions back in place—and to avoid her boss for at least one day.
Life was just exhausting lately.
Heading to her room to change into shorts, she saw Willow sitting on the bed, eyeing her with her judgy eyes still.
Waving her shorts in front of her, she laughed. “See. Going for a run, just like I said I would. Stop getting on my case about it.”
Willow circled once on the bed, then laid down completely, stretching out her body in a languid move.
“You just have to rub it in. When I’m done running, I’m going to curl up under the blankets and take a nap, too. So there.”
She changed, put on her running shoes, ruffled Willow’s head, who pushed into her hand looking for more, then walked out of the room with a happy smile.
She could always count on Willow to brighten her mood, even with her sassy attitude and demanding ways.
Locking the door on her way out, she jogged in place on her porch, trying to get herself in the mood. She wasn’t a huge fan of running, but she also didn’t like going to the gym. Too many people. Too many eyes on her. No, thanks.
“You got this, Brooke. You can do it.”
Yeah, she talked to herself too much. She should really stop that.
“Run!”
But today wouldn’t be the day she did. With her pep talk done, she jaunted off the porch and headed toward her same route she always did. A quick run around the block. A simple circle. It took her about fifteen minutes to do the whole thing, and she was always sweating and breathing heavily at the end. But, it always made her feel more energized. Running sucked in the moment, but it was always worth it in the end.
She cleared her head of all negative thoughts as she ran. Just focused on putting one foot in front of the other. By the time she turned the last corner and headed back toward her house, she was nearly out of breath and dripping with sweat. As usual.
As she neared her driveway, she slowed down, eyeing the unknown vehicle parked and the man standing by it.
He was dressed in a gray suit, his tie loose around his neck. Classic black hair, a bit longer in the front. A day’s growth bread, maybe a few days, filled his cheeks, although she could see the sharp jawline. One she’d describe as kissable. Not that she daydreamed about guys’ kissable jawlines.
What an odd thought.
He wore sunglasses that shielded his eyes, which bothered her for some reason. She wanted to see his eyes. Because by the fierce frown on his face, this wouldn’t be a happy visit.
She stopped in front of him, breathing heavily, suddenly embarrassed by her appearance. Sweat dripping down her face. Glistened chest. Probably didn’t smell too pleasant either.
“Can I help you?”
“You don’t appear sick.”
Odd thing to say.
“I’m sorry?”
The man removed his glasses, his green eyes piercing her with a look that made her want to drop to her knees in pain. Cat-like eyes that held a world of judgement, just like Willow.
“You called out of work today. You don’t appear sick.”
Wow. Her boss was—Ugh! She couldn’t even find the right word for that asshole. But enough was enough. She refused to let the jackass get his way constantly. Control her life and think he was untouchable.
Her eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”
His hand went to his jacket where he pulled it away from his chest—super muscular if she had to guess—and flashed a badge clipped to his pants and a gun close by it.
“Detective Rory Walker. Your boss was found murdered this morning. Where were you between the hours of midnight and three am?”
Her jaw dropped, and her entire body nearly dropped to the ground. But she managed to hold herself together and stay upright. She could feel her heart pounding, but this time not from the run she just endured.
“Home.”
“Can anyone verify that?”
Her asshole boss…dead.
She couldn’t believe it.
“Ms. Duncan? I asked you a question.”
Ugh. From one asshole to the next. All men were the same. And this man seemed very suspicious of her. Like she had killed her boss. How ridiculous. She barely escaped his clutches last night in his office.
“Yes. I was home all night with Willow.”
Oops. Wrong thing to say. Willow was her cat. Not exactly the best witness to verify her alibi. But it was true. She was at home all night with Willow.
“I’ll need to speak to her.”
But it had been a helluva day yesterday and today obviously wasn’t going to go much better. Small laughter slipped out before she could stop herself.
“Sure. Follow me. She’s inside the house.”
Then she walked away toward her front door, knowing exactly the kind of greeting Willow would give Detective Walker. Hisses and claws galore. The same kind of greeting she gave to everyone. She wasn’t a huge people person, especially with men.
(COPYRIGHT © 2020 AMANDA SIEGRIST)