Page 233 of Bona Fide

Marty: You're catching on.

Me: I tipped him with a middle finger, think that was enough?

Marty: Cute. I'm sure he appreciated that.

Me: Seemed to. If you're going to have him hovering over me all the time then he better get used to it.

Marty: We've been through this. It's only because I couldn't be there.

Marty: I trust him with my life. So I trust him with yours. He’ll die before he lets anything happen to you.

Me: NOTHING IS GOING TO HAPPEN TO ME!

Marty: I don’t know that. And I'm not taking that chance.

Me: He didn't check my room. Someone could be in here right now.

Marty: Tsarina...quit being a brat.

Me: *emoji with tongue sticking out*

Marty: Get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow.

Me: What?!!

I dial him up—well, attempt to, the liquor is starting to wear off, but the numbers still look too small.

“Didn’t I just say get some sleep,” Marty chides me off a sigh on the first ring.

“I’m sorry, I’m still a little fucked up. Did you say you were going to see me tomorrow?”

“I did.”

“Um...like you’re coming home?”

“I guess so since that’s where you are.” I squeal like a little girl who just got the latest iPhone. “Really?!”

“Remember my mission I told you about?”

The two Russians.

“Yeah…”

“It’s taken care of,” he deadpans. I shoot up from my mattress, regretting the decision as soon as the fluids in my head hit the front of my skull.

“Geezus…” My palm finds my forehead, and I try to rub back some of the dizziness.

“I know, listen, I won’t talk much about it. I’m fine, no scrapes or bruises. It’s done, Tsarina.”

“No, I meant I got up too fast.” Marty scoffs. “And, it’s okay, as long as you’re not hurt. I can’t wait to see you.”

“Likewise. Now, get some sleep.”

“Tell the Hulk to leave.”

“No.”

“Marty…”

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