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Mal
You’re proving harder to hunt than I expected.
My pulse skips and I grin, flirtatious heat flooding my face. Hell, maybe it’s just the alcohol.
Maybe both.
I knock back the last of my vodka, my tongue swiping the last few drops from my lips before I set the glass down and bring up the phone.
Me
I’m far away from your clutches.
His response is instant.
Mal
You’re NEVER out of my clutches.
Feeling reckless from the booze and the adrenaline of the night, I type out another message.
Me
I’m out getting some air. Looking for a phone charger. How about you?
Okay, what thefuckis this. Our “arrangement” or “blackmail situationship” or whatever this insanity is between Mal and I is supposed to be just…well, I guess we’ve never exactly defined it, aside from “I do whatever he wants or he ruins my life”. But late-night flirting over text seems out of bounds.
Mal
And where exactly ARE you out, looking for a phone charger?
I freeze. Likehellam I telling him where I am. Not because I’m worried about the psycho coming to find me in another country…though I wouldn’t put it past him…but because the three of us are probably freaking out a lot of people back home, being that Kenzo and Annika’s wedding istomorrow, and the bride has fled the country in a stolen Bugatti.
Me
Just out. God, you’re so needy.
I grin impishly as I send it.
Fuck me. Iamflirting with him.
Mal’s response is swift, and sends a chill down my spine.
Mal
You should be careful. It’s nighttime. You’re alone. You never know what kind of monsters are lurking in the dark.
My fingers tighten around the phone, my pulse spiking and a prickling sensation creeping up the back of my neck. I tell myself it’s nothing, just Mal messing with me.
Then my phone buzzes again.
Mal
Your safe word will be “neon”.
The words hit like a punch, my stomach flipping as I jerk my head up, scanning the shadows of the room. My heart is pounding now.
I mean what thefuck.
