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Yep. Cain was in his bedroom, going through his field journals. I’m pretty sure there was cursing and hair pulling.
I huff at his theatrics and roll my eyes.
Viv
He already knows which one he’s giving me. He’s known since he agreed to the bet.
Nox
Oh, really? Care to wager a bet on which one he chooses? Loser takes the winner out for dinner.
Viv
Deal!
Nox
Ladies first.
I smirk down at the phone confidently.
Viv
He’s going to give me his first one. The one with information about the Moretti family and his first few serial killer cases.
Nox
No way. I seriously doubt it. I think it’ll be in the middle of his career, maybe one from his third year in the FBI. It’ll probably have the Denver cannibal case.
Viv
We shall see. I want sushi when I win.
Nox
Mighty confident.
So what are you and Sandy up to tonight?
Viv
I’m studying. She’s doing the same over at the Delta house. They’re doing an all-nighter or something.
Throwing the phone on my bed, I decide to give my eyes a break and take a shower before I tuck back into my books. Dorm showers leave a lot to be desired, especially after being used to the spa shower in my bathroom back home, but it’s worth the freedom I get here.
I take the extra time to wash my hair, since it’s been a couple days, before I dry off and slip into a pair of lilac pajamas. These oneshave a spaghetti strap top and shorts, of course. I cannot sleep in pants. It’s like a unique brand of torture that I just will never be able to stomach.
With my hair wrapped up in my towel, I make my way back to my room with my shower caddy in hand. A figure steps away from the door and I damn near shank the guy because, I mean, come on. Jumping out to scare a girl after her shower is, like, scary movie 101.
Thankfully, I don’t have easy access to any weapons, so Nox’s kidney lives to see another day without one of my knives stabbed into it.
I glare at him as I lean around him to unlock my door. He pushes in behind me, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well?” he demands when I don’t say anything.
Enzo taught me that when you remain quiet, the person trying to interrogate you is likely to give up more information than they planned to. So I stay silent, just giving him a questioning look, and it works like a charm.
“I’ve called you, like, fifteen times and sent a dozen texts. You didn’t answer. You’ve got an entire fucking mafia family after you and you can’t take the time to answer your phone?” He grits his teeth.
Putting my stuff away, I wander over to my bed and pick my phone back up to see that yes, he has been calling and texting. I glance over my shoulder at him with a small frown. “I’m sorry. I was just taking a shower.
