CASSIAN
I stared at the text. My thumb hovered over the keyboard. I started to type: Really? I deleted it.
I started again: Where are you?
Deleted.
I locked the phone and shoved it into my pocket. He was drunk. He was making terrible decisions. He was a child playing with a blowtorch, hoping I'd smell the smoke and come running. He wanted my attention? Well, he'd just earned a lifetime's worth of it in a single second.
"I need to leave," I said, standing up so abruptly my chair scraped harshly against the floor.
Cyan whined, draping himself over the back of the sofa. "Really? Now? We were just getting to the fun part of the evening, Cassie!"
I didn't answer. I didn't have to. I had that look on my face—the one that had made guards in the facility back away without being told. Cyan saw it and wisely shut his mouth.
