Page 100 of Property of Necro
Cell lifts a hand to silence me. What feels like a million years later, when it’s maybe fifteen seconds, she wiggles in her chair and raises the roof. “Oh yeah,” she croons. “Looks like naughty boy Kade is already a longtime subscriber to a certain someone’s Red Room.”
“Necro’s?” I ask, sounding far too hopeful to my own ears.
“Yep. The very one.”
A few clicks later, one of Cell’s screens fills with a familiar green screen and bloodied smiley face emoji with the promise to return soon. That was fast.
“Looks like there’s another live stream planned in about an hour,” she explains.
My heart gives a nervous wallop.
“Oh. So soon?”
“Yeah. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Yes. I… Yes?” Do I want to catch a glimpse of Necro? Absolutely. Am I prepared for that? Probably not. I figured we’d gain access and eventually I’d gather the courage to watch him in action, even though I’m not the biggest fan of watching him kill. But if that’s the only way, then so be it.
If things weren’t already awkward enough, Kali decides now is the best time to make a grand entrance. Slipping into the alcove with us, she takes one look at me sitting on Cell’s desk, at the screens, and the meddling bitch smiles from ear to ear.
Kali grips the crystal hanging around her neck. “So, this is why you’ve been sad, huh?”
Ugh.
I don’t wanna do this now. Or ever, for that matter.
“Why are you here?” I groan. “Don’t you have a man at home?” She has an insanely hot man at home who worships the ground she walks on. One who has never and would never send her away. One who’d burn the world to the ground to protect and love her for always. Now that I think about it. Gross. They’re just… gross.
Okay. That’s a bit harsh.
They’re not gross. I’m projecting. See. Progress. I’m self-aware.
“Actually, my husband is out cleaning up one of your men’s messes,” Kali explains.
One of my what?
My face scrunches in confusion. “I don’t understand.”
“Coffin.”
“Oh.”
Kali tilts her head to the side and gives a friendly grin, trying to coax me into a false sense of security. “Now, do you want to talk?”
No. I don’t. But it sounds like she’s more aware than she’s let on.
“How much do you know?” I rub my hands up and down my thighs to give them something to do.
“More than I let on.”
I snort. “Obviously… How did you find out?”
“When my sister leaves to do a job for Dark, and we haven’t heard from her for months, apart from random emails from a man named Necro, I get suspicious. Darkassured me you were okay. That was after he confessed that he gave you to these men under the pretense that you were working a job. Which, of course, ended up being a lie. Then there was something about owing them a debt.”
“He whored me out,” I explain.
“Which is not okay,” she growls in full mama bear mode. “Once I found out, he’d been trying like hell to get you back.”
It’s nice to know someone paid enough attention to give a crap.
