“Fine, I guess things could be worse.” Noah finally accepts defeat.
I walk to the kitchen and open the fridge. I take out a new bottle of wine and move it to the counter. I pick up the bottle opener and proceed to open the bottle when my phone buzzes with a message. I hate the sound of notifications on my phone, so I’ve had it on silent ever since I got it. I check the message with one hand, setting the phone on the counter to read it as I toss the cork into the trash alongside the empty bottle from earlier.
Unknown: Hey, little criminal.
“Fuck!” I say out loud without thinking, and Noah rushes to the kitchen.
“What happened?” I hide the phone behind me. If he learns about this, I’ll have to deal with him panicking all over again.This is fine.It’s probably a coincidence. Someone else is messaging me. This can’t be the biker I kidnapped.Can it be?
“I scared myself with the sound of the bottle opening,” I say, smiling as I hand him the newly opened wine bottle. “Go back tothe living room; I’ll be right behind you. I’m going to make some popcorn.”
Noah doesn’t question me; he takes the bottle and turns his back to me as he walks to the living room. I open a cabinet, take out a microwavable popcorn package, and put it in the microwave. I press the timer and start button, then pick up my phone again. I type the reply.
Unknown: Hey, little criminal.
Me: Biker boy?
The little dots indicating that he’s typing appear, and my phone buzzes with a new answer.
Unknown: Oh, I see you didn’t forget about me.
Asshole.As if I’ve been kidnapping so many people lately that it would be easy to forget the blue-haired god I had tied up in my room earlier. I start typing but decide leaving him on read is better, so I erase my reply. Right on cue, the sound from the microwave draws my attention back to the popcorn. I open another cabinet and take out a big bowl. I empty the contents of the brown paper bag full of popcorn into it and add some salt. My phone buzzes again.
Unknown: Come on, little criminal. You don’t think you can ignore me, do you?
That’s exactly what I think. I turn my phone off and leave it on the counter. I take the bowl and head to the living room, where Noah has now gone fully back to his book. I set the bowl on the coffee table and pick up my book and wine glass.Maybe the night wasn’t such a disaster after all.
Kai
AFTER A TWENTY-MINUTEdrive, I am sitting in the parked car waiting for Leo to return with tacos.
“Who are you texting?” Leo questions as he arrives at the car with a bag of tacos. He wasn’t joking when he said we were getting food. This man lives for his tacos. I am sure if a blonde bombshell appeared with a bag of freshly made tacos in front of him at the same time, he would pick the food instead of the girl. If it were a hot guy instead, he might think twice, but the tacos would still win.
“No one,” I respond with a smirk as I type my next text to Rachel. Leo opens the bag of tacos and hands me my portion. He unwraps one of his own and takes a big bite before he turns to me. He speaks while he chews like the Neanderthal he is.
“Please tell me you didn’t find her number already,” Leo presses as he chews another bite of his food.
“I did not find her number,” I say with a confident smile. “Ryan found it for me.”
“Let me get this straight. You called your cop friend to find the woman who kidnapped you so you could text her?” Leo takes another bite of his food, and I open mine on the car's dashboard, reaching for the beer bottle I secured between my thighs while typing. I take a sip, and Leo looks at me, waiting for an answer.
“I didn’t call him,” I argue. “I texted him.” Leo shakes his head in disappointment.
“And how exactly did you explain the situation to him?” Leo questions again.
“I told him not to ask questions and that I was just going to thank her for something.” Leo starts coughing, choking on his food when he hears my response. I pass him his beer, and he chugs most of its contents, trying to wash the food down.
“What?” he shouts.
“Relax, Leo. I didn’t have time to play with the girl because you rescued me before the fun could begin. I had to say hello and thank her for kidnapping me and all that.” I pout at him like a child who’s had his toy ripped away before he could enjoy it.
“Dude, you posted a fucking video claiming to be kidnapped, shared it with me along with your location, and turned your damn phone off,” he shouts again, this time louder. “What did you expect me to do?”
“Well, I got bored. I was there alone for hours. You really didn’t need to come, though,” I admit. “I had it handled.”
“You had your kidnapping handled,” Leo repeats. “I think we need to find you a therapist.”
“Sure, why not? Make sure she’s hot,” I wink at him.