Page 115 of Hybrid Heroics

“Insanity is subjective in this case,” my Kitten jeered. “Sometimes I just need a little murder to quiet the chaos.”

“Sloane thinks she needs a little more murder?” Nate mused, grinning at his grandfather.

Franklin threw his hands up. “I think they’re all crazy, but I keep my mouth shut. That’s not my circus, son. It’s yours.”

Friday, June 26th

Early Morning

The text messages from Jack started coming through at 5:37AM. I wanted to roll my eyes at the gif he sent of some guy dancing at a rave with glow sticks.

Jack: Party at The Place. We’re drinking, bitch.

Jack: Grim told Palmer the time and address.

Something about you always being late…

(laughing emoji)

Me: Grim is four days early

to everything. (eye roll emoji)

I’m never late.

I get there exactly when

I’m supposed to be there.

Me: Which is whenever

the fuck I want.

Jack: Don’t shoot the messenger…

Jack: But Bay said something about

Briggs not taking that whole,

“Sloane closed our bonds,” thing very well.

Jack: Maybe talk to him?

Me: We’ve talked.

There were some fun threats

tossed around. If he has more

to say, then he’ll come to me.

I don’t want to push him.

Jack: My, my. How you’ve grown.

Jack: *Best impression of Dorthy’s grandma.

I snorted and dropped my phone on the bed. He was right. I knew Briggs was more bothered than the rest of my guys about the bond-stasis event. I wasn’t sure what else to call it.