“…Then kill me.”
Bo tilted his head, considering.
“Like I said, if he wanted you dead, girly, he would have done it by now, and he certainly wouldn’t be doing it this way.”
“That’s still not comforting,” I remarked dryly.
“Well, it should be, because knowing what I know, then Lord Oblivion wouldn’t waste his time with this ruse, no, he would just turn up in your bedroom one night and slit your throat.”
I shuddered violently.
“Jeez, Bo, could you be any more graphic? Because if I wasn’t already freaked out about the whole ‘playing along’ part of your plan, I’m feeling real damn cozy about it now…fuck!”
“Just keeping it real,” he shrugged.
“But this does mean he wants something from you, the trick is to get our ass’s out of there before we find out what it is, as it isn’t going to be anything good, that’s for sure.”
I let my head rest against the cool tiles, resentment curling tight in my chest. All this attention wasn’t about me, not really. It was about what he wanted. I couldn’t stop myself from wondering if the flirting had been nothing more than a calculated move on his part. And what I hated most was my own response to it, the way I’d let myself be pulled in, emotionally as much as physically, only to feel foolish now for ever thinking it could be anything else.
“So,” I said eventually, my voice thin.
“I just… go with it?”
Bo nodded.
“For now.”
“For now,” I echoed, the words tasting bitter.
“I get into his car. I smile. I pretend this is all very normal corporate nonsense and not some elaborate setup where I end up in a dungeon with my organs catalogued.”
“That’s a bit dramatic,” Bo said.
“You literally just told me he could find me anywhere on Earth and that we don’t actually know what he wants with me.”
“Fair, but it won’t be your organs,” he conceded, clearly attempting to rein me in as my thoughts went completely off the rails, every horror movie I’d ever watched replaying itself in vivid, unhelpful detail.
“What if he’s just playing his own game… what if he’s just being… strategic? Keeping me calm until he decides what to do with me?”
“If he wanted you panicked, he’d already have you chained to something uncomfortable,” Bo said with a shrug, like his words meant nothing to my internal panic.
“Wow, and there you go again, being all comforting and shit,” I said with a roll of my eyes. Something he promptly ignored. Instead, Bo tilted his head, studying me in a way that suggested he’d been piecing things together for a while.
“So, how did he seem in the meeting?” he asked lightly, and I hesitated.
The question landed heavier than it should have. Not because I didn’t have an answer, but because I wasn’t sure I was ready to open that demonic can of worms.
“Did he treat you like a problem?” Bo added.
“Or perhaps, he treated you like something else?”
I frowned at that, unsure if it was something I wanted to share, let alone unravel. But then I also knew it might be something Bo needed to know, or could at least shed some light on.
“Well, he was… flirting. A little. I think,” I said carefully, and Bo barked out a laugh. Not an amused laugh. Not light. The kind of laugh that made my stomach drop and feel instantly foolish.
“Oh, girly,” he said, shaking his head.
“No.”
