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I can hear his furious huff of breath, but his resounding silence says that I’m making a good point—one for which he has no reasonable argument.
“As long as she believes I return her feelings for me, then I’m not in danger.” Kai scoffs, but I continue talking. “I can use this to get close to her. If I can get her to lower her guard, then we could find out where she’s staying, or she might divulge her plans. We’re not getting anywhere by sitting and waiting for her to come to us. She knows you’re watching, waiting for her.” I sigh. “This game of cat and mouse could go on forever. I’m done with it. I’m finally ready to start living my life—with you, Hawk, and Wilder—and I’m sick of her standing in my way.”
There’s a moment’s silence before Kai says, “The three of us, huh?” His voice is softer than before, and I swear I can hear the smile in it.
“Yes,” I state assertively. “The three of you. I know you have your demons, but if Wilder’s don’t scare me, then yours definitely don’t. You blew up my world when you strolled into my apartment that day. It felt like everything was falling apart at the time. Only now do I understand that it was actually falling into place. I was always meant to end up with Hawk and Wilder, but I also need you. This whole thing between the four of us doesn’t work without you. I need you to keep me sane when they are driving me nuts; Wilder needs someone to keep him in line, and Hawk needs someone to wallop him over the head when he’s being an insufferable asshole.
“All of us need you, Kai. We needeach other.This only works if we’re all in agreement. I’m done sitting on the sidelines of my own life. As soon as Mel is out of the picture, we’re doing this—all of us.”
“Mmm. Who am I to argue with that, Blackbird?”
Smiling to myself, I say, “So we’re in agreement?”
“Fine.” He sighs reluctantly. “Nevertheless, we’re still heading to that part of town, so we’re nearby. Wilder’s already got the app open with your tracker on it. We’ll be watching it closely. You have ten minutes. Then if we don’t hear from you, we’re coming in.”
“Deal,” I agree readily, not wanting a repeat kidnapping. Once was more than enough, thank you very much.
“Don’t push too hard, or you might spook her,” he continues. “For whatever reason, she thinks you’re in love with her, but you haven’t realized it yet. You need to convince her that she’s right.”
Nervous jitters flutter futilely in my stomach, fear stealing the confidence I displayed earlier as I wonder how the hell I’m going to pull this off. How am I supposed to make a psychopath I despise believe I’m in love with her? Shock bought me some leeway the last time I came face to face with Mel, though it’s not going to gain me any favors with her now.
“I’ve got it,” I tell Kai, forcing self-assurance into my voice.
When he responds, “I know you do,” he does so with such conviction that it more than makes up for my own uncertainty; his words give me the much-needed boost of confidence I need right now.
We hang up as the cab pulls up outside a small, hole-in-the-wall bar that looks like it’s seen better days. Handing the driver a wad of bills, I reinsert the Bluetooth earpiece before getting out, my heart hammering against my chest and my palms slick with sweat.
You can do this,I chant to myself, holding tight to Kai’s faith in me.
“Can you hear me?” I ask quietly, attempting to move my lips as little as possible in case Mel is watching.
“We’re here,” Kai reassures. “We’ll be at the bar in eight minutes.”
Feeling a little better at knowing I’m not technically alone, I push open the door and step into the bar.
I’m greeted by the strong smell of spilled beer, hard liquor, and manly sweat. Glancing around the poorly lit interior, I’m undeniably in some sort of dive bar that looks like it relies on its regular patrons to keep the doors open.
Being early in the evening, the bar is relatively empty. A couple of older men with their heads hanging in their drinks, uncaring of who might have just walked in, are sitting on stools spaced out along the high counter.
Even the bartender barely spares me a passing glance before dismissing me, returning to wiping down a counter that looks like all the elbow grease in the world won’t remove the filth and stains stuck to it.
Before I can take in any more, familiar tawny hair obscures my vision as Mel pounces on me. “You came!” she squeals. “I wasn’t sure if you’d get my message.”
All I can do is blink, forcing my arms into motion to return her embrace while I try to correlate this Mel with the one I met in the bunker that day. She’s acting like the best friend I’ve known for the last four years and not the creepy-ass bitch who's been stalking my ass.
I’m getting whiplash from all the back and forth. Seriously, pick a personality and stick with it. Never knowing if I will be confronted with best-friend-Mel or crazy-stalker-Mel is going to drivemecrazy.
Of the two, I actually think I prefer crazy-stalker-Mel. This best friend version brings up all sorts of nostalgia and makes me realize I’vemissedher. How fucked up is that? To miss my stalker? I’m seriously going to need therapy after all of this is over.
The problem is that Mel isn’t just my stalker. She was my confidant and my friend, so when she decided to kill Richard and pursue me, I didn’t just lose my boyfriend; I lost my best friend too.
Tears swim in my eyes, threatening to overflow. I ignore the fact that the woman in front of me murdered Richard, has been threatening the guys, and could easily turn on me, and allow myself to hug Mel—my roommate and best friend. My arms tighten around her in a fierce hug that I pour all my grief and heartache into.
When she pulls back, I can see that it’s still Mel in front of me. Not the stalker I met in that bunker. At least until she plants her lips on mine. That’sdefinitelynot something best-friend-Mel would have done. Her tongue probes at my lips until I reluctantly part them, trying to block out the reality of what’s happening as I return her kiss.
Every sweep of her tongue along mine feels like an invasion by an alien body—intrusive and unwanted. Her kiss is a claim, a test, a declaration. Although it’s impossible because they’re so embedded in my skin, it feels as though she’s trying to remove every trace of Hawk, Wilder, and Kai and replace their marks with hers.
I never knew kissing someone could feel so wrong. I’ve had kisses where I felt nothing, ones purely driven by carnal desire, and then there are the rare, life-changing ones that bury so deep inside you they leave a permanent mark. The type that you can never wash off. The kind of kiss that forever changes you.
