Did you kill one of them? If you hid the body I can provide an alibi but I need 20 mins notice.
No. I burned my hand. Kit fixed it.
And this is an emergency why?
He narrated it. He told me every time he was going to touch me. He told me to breathe.
Callie, I almost passed out. Not from the pain.
I discovered I react to an Alpha’s voice like it’s narcotic. When he gives instructions? My brain turns off. It’s... I think I have a problem.
Babe.
BABE.
Babe!! That’s not a problem, that’s a KINK. You have a praise/safety kink. Oh my god. Does he know??
I looked over the top of my phone. Kit was tuning the drum, his brow furrowed in concentration.
"Quarter turn," he murmured to the room. "Tight and snappy."
He knew. He absolutely knew.
I told him not to stop talking.
RIP Zia. Cause of death: Manchester baritone and basic medical care. I’ll write your eulogy.
My phone pinged with a notification from the band’s internal app, the shared "Whiteboard" Rowan used to manage logistics and protocols.
Update by: R. Quill
Time: 02:15 AM
Subject:Protocol Addendum
Note:Kit Wilde assigned as primary Post-Impact Caretaker.
Parameter:Narrated Touch Protocol approved when invited. Voice modulation effective for subject regulation.
I stared at the screen.
Rowan wasn't even in the room. How did she know? Was she monitoring the bus audio? Or did Kit text her while I was drinking water?
I looked at Kit.
He caught my eye. He winked.
"Drink your water, love," he said. "We're miles from anywhere."
I drank the water.
I was absolutely in trouble.
FOURTEEN
Alfie
The scent hitting me was a lightning strike of neon citrus and ozone that made my mouth water and my knees nearly buckle. Zia had turned the corner towards the green room so fast she was a blur, her hoodie pulled up, her hand clutching her stomach.
