Happy Sunday, lovelies! Sorry for the delay in this week's flash! I hope you had a fabulous weekend! I’m pretty excited for tomorrow. It’s my birthday, and I can’t wait! Enjoy this week’s flash!



Writing Prompt ~ On second thought. (Provided by Lisa) Scene #7

Brooke curled under the blanket, petting Willow immediately as she jumped up on the couch and took a spot right on her lap above the blanket. She had decided to sit down on the couch for a small moment, just to collect her thoughts. Now she’d be here a while because she hated shoving off Willow. She’d rather sit here for an hour than push Willow off her lap. Plus, when she petted Willow, she purred, and the melodic sound always put Brooke at ease, especially when she was stressed.

And the day she had, stress didn’t even begin to describe how she felt.

Since the moment the detective left hours ago, her mind had been circling with thought after thought.

Disgusting memories of her boss. How she wasn’t really sad he was dead. Which made her feel like a terrible person, even though her boss had been a true nightmare and not worthy of her guilt.

Of course, enticing thoughts of Detective Walker and how depressing it was he didn’t get the chance to kiss her.

Her hand paused petting Willow. All her fault she didn’t get to taste his decadent lips. Stopping didn’t sway Willow. She nudged her hand, indicating she wanted more rubs along the stretch of her back. She loved little rubs under her neck, on top of her head, and down her back, but she wasn’t a fan of her belly. Brooke made sure to stay clear of that area.

She rubbed vigorously under her chin, laughing. “You silly kitty. You should apologize for ruining the moment. I bet he was a fantastic kisser.”

Willow didn’t respond other than to nudge her hand again to keep going, her purr loud and soothing.

“Yeah, on second thought…” Brooke shook her head. “No good would come from kissing that man. I’m not even sure I liked him. He could be a bit abrasive and in-your-face, you know.”

Another gentle prod to her hand was the only answer she got, which she took to mean Willow agreed with her.

She continued to sit there on her couch, petting Willow, her mind going in a million different directions, knowing at some point she’d have to get up and make supper. She just didn’t have the energy. After everything that happened today, she honestly didn’t have the energy for much. Not even going into work tomorrow.

How terrible would it be if she called in sick again? Would they think she had something to do with her boss’s murder?

She sat up straight, which jolted Willow out of her lap.

Did they already think she had something to do with it? She called out today—unwittingly not knowing her boss had been found murdered. They could think she did it on purpose, to avoid the situation.

Leaning slowly against the couch, she tried to dispel the silly notion. But couldn’t. She knew the detective had even thought of her as a potential suspect. Why wouldn’t her co-workers think the same thing? She had left last night upset. Although she had tried to hold her emotions in, she was positive people got the drift she didn’t leave happy.

Then she called out of work.

Oh, dear.

Not good at all.

She stood up, grabbing her phone from the coffee table. And continued to stand there, unsure of how to proceed. Who did she call? And what would she say?

I didn’t kill him. I swear.

That just sounded dumb. And slightly guilty, like she was trying too hard to hide the truth.

This was ridiculous. She was acting ridiculous. No one thought she killed her boss. He was a jackass to everyone. There were so many possible suspects.

With that thought—not exactly firmly planted in her mind—she decided now was a good time to make supper. She slid the phone into her pocket. Although, she didn’t think she’d have an appetite for much, so a light salad sounded nice.

Brooke took her time grabbing the ingredients: romaine lettuce, cut up carrots, a boiled egg sliced up, a toss of sunflower seeds, all topped with caesar dressing. Yum! Her mouth salivated as her bowl practically overflowed with everything.

Her fork was nearly to her mouth for the first wonderful bite when her doorbell went off.

“I hope it’s not that detective again.”

Yet, as she walked toward the front door, she knew she just uttered a lie. A part of hoped it was him. She wanted that kiss still, no matter how much she shouldn’t.

When she looked through the peephole, she didn’t see anyone. Opening the door, her brows pleated as she looked around the porch and her front yard. No vehicle sat parked in her driveway. No person—or animal, not that she thought an animal would push the doorbell—was anywhere in sight.

Odd.

Closing the door, she turned around and jumped.

Willow sat in the middle of the hallway, staring up at her.

Meow.

Brooke looked down the hallway that led to the kitchen, the hairs suddenly standing up on her arms.

Then she looked at Willow, who had stood up.

Meow.

“You’re right. It’s weird the doorbell went off and no one’s out there. What should we do?”

Willow walked up and rubbed against her leg. The same leg that held her phone.

It probably wasn’t the smartest idea, but she had the strangest feeling something was about to happen. And not in a good way. Heading upstairs, the fastest she had ever done, she went straight for her room, shutting the door as soon as Willow came inside as well. Which just further confirmed her suspicions something was wrong. Well, okay, maybe she was overreacting a little bit because Willow followed her around the house most of the time. Such a pushy cat, never respecting boundaries.

But she always liked to be safer than sorry. Something her dad had loved to say to her as a child growing up.

Pulling out her phone, she found Detective Walker’s number. Because, yeah, she totally saved his number the minute he left. So pathetic.

Then she hit dial.

♥♥♥

If you’d like to start the story at the beginning, you can find the other scenes here:

Scene 1 | Scene 2 | Scene 3 | Scene 4 | Scene 5 | Scene 6