“Both,” I reply, downing the liquid fire.
Roo’s grin is wicked. “Let me get my lipstick.”
She disappears into the bathroom, leaving a scent of citrus perfume behind. I reach for the first black dress I can find in my closet that has a less than respectable hemline.
My phone pings as I drop my shirt onto the floor. The sound leads me back into the living room, where I left my empty shot glass and device on the coffee table. I sink onto the arm of the couch and open the app.
Locke:
Where are you going?
I roll my eyes.
Eris:
Out.
Locke:
With Romily Sokolov?
I glare at the camera and try to recall a time that I’ve mentioned her name to them. Or a time that I’ve used anything but her nickname when talking out loud.
It shouldn’t surprise me. They are stalking me after all…
Eris:
Yes.
The pause between messages is long enough for me to change clothes and pull my hair into an artfully messy knot atop my head. But I keep peeking at my phone like the addict I am.
Locke:
Are you safe?
I snort under my breath.
Eris:
Are you?
Locke:
We’re always safe.
We’re not the ones being hunted.
My fingers tighten around the phone. I type fast, my ire fueling me.
Eris:
No.
You’re the ones being watched by an ex who thinks they still have a claim on you. Which you… I don’t know.
You’re not hunting me, but you have been stalking me.
And now I’m done playing hide and seek.
