“I refuse to do anythingforyou unless it’s in my work agreement,” she snips.
“Uh-huh.” I kiss again. “Just one more.”
Scowling, she takes a shaking second bite and swallows.
Then I take the rest, hold her gaze, and finish it.
Spoiler alert: webothsurvive.
Chapter Twenty
?
I don’t think…Iwantto kill him anymore.
Azalea
Me:Due to unexpected circumstances, I can no longer assist you in your schemes. Thank you for all your efforts up until now. I wish you the best of luck.
I stare at the text to Junction, finger hovering over send. I shouldn’t send it. I know, logically, that I shouldn’t, but my brain isn’t providing me with logic right now. It’s insisting oncorrect. Andcorrectsomehow means making myself a target to people willing to kill someone else instead of betraying them outright.
I should destroy this phone, tell Malcolm the truth, and hope he’s more powerful than them. Or maybe I shouldn’t destroy it. Maybe I should give it to him? I don’t think he’d care, considering he already mentioned knowing that I’m trying to kill him yesterday.
Unless that was just a figure of speech I don’t understand.
Which makes the most sense.
Considering that people don’t usually fall in love with someone actively and genuinely attempting to murder them.
Biting my lip, I twirl a damp piece of hair around my finger and glance at my personal phone. Malcolm isn’t…exactly a normal person though, is he?
Realizing what I’m doing, I cease twirling at once and stare at my hand.
Odd. Strange. Out of character.
Something is quite wrong with me.
Ever since I watched Malcolm step off his balcony, something weird shifted inside my body. I’m feeling…stuff. I think. I’m not really sure I can name the sensations flooding my blood stream.
I do not know what to do about them.
But, at the least, Idoknow not to send this message to Junction. Even if that decision makes my chest burn and something in my brain ruffles at the idea of my behavior being incorrect.
Flexing my fingers, I reach for my smartphone. Per usual, Malcolm’sgood morningtext sits unopened on account of it having been sent at an unreasonably early hour. Which is the stupidest thing ever considering we spent much of the night playing throughKaleidoscope Dawn. Figures a monster wouldn’t need sleep.
Jutting my lip, I stare at the message.
Crow:Good morning, little dove. Miss you.
It’s fluffy nonsense, of course. It’s barely been ten hours since we parted ways, and most of them we should have spent sleeping. There’s no way he couldmiss mealready.
Tucking my legs up on my bed, I coddle myself and stare at the insipid words.
What in the world am I feeling? What in the world is this hum? It ignited at Fantasy Haven when I learned that I might have a chance to finally win against the monster in one of our games. But it’s something else now. Something more than curiosity.
When I saw he hadn’t plummeted to his death, I was relieved for more than one reason. Sure, his survival meant I wouldn’t bea prime suspect, but that wasn’t all of it. I was genuinely shaken to my core over the possibility that he was just…
Gone.
