Page 118 of Corrupted Heart

My pulse jackrabbits as I stare at the message. Something twists uncomfortably in my chest, too. But I shove that feeling aside as horrible, toxic images of Kratos and her slither through my head.

Fuck you.

I click on the link. Instantly, a chat opens.

BlackHearted1

I’m looking for tonight. You?

I swallow. My heart clenches.

No.

BrokenBee

Yes

BlackHearted1

Good. Then we can proceed.

I chew on my lip uneasily, remembering the first conversation I had with Kratos here. How dark, direct, and to the point he was. This person sounds similar, but there’s something completely clinical in his response that throws me a little.

BrokenBee

I’m married

I wrinkle my nose the second I hit send. Why did I tell him that? Probably guilt. Feeling that emotion only annoys me more.

Kratos doesn’t deserve my guilt. Not when he’s out cavalierly fucking other women. Not when he’s responding to me saying don’t wait up with “ok” and not checking in with a single text or call since then.

He’s probably busy with some girl.

Angrily, the tequila burning in my system, I glare back at my phone screen.

BlackHearted1

I don’t really give a fuck if you are. Open, or angry

It takes a second before what he’s asked clicks: am I married with an open relationship? Or am I married and pissed at my husband?

BrokenBee

Angry. And available

BlackHearted1

Your profile is fairly vague. What specifically are you looking for

I stare at the screen, pushing down the dull, twisting ache in my chest.

BlackHearted1

If you have to think about it that long, perhaps we’re done here

BrokenBee

I don’t have to think about it

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