ROSA: Kian the captor?
ROSA: Kian!! Seriously!
ROSA: Kian??????
BEE: You and Kian???? How did THAT happen?
ROSA: He Stockholm-syndromed you, didn’t he?
ROSA: Send a winking emoji. I’ll come save you.
BEE: REPLY!!!!!!!!!!
ROSA: We. Need. Answers! *face with steam from nose emoji*
The texts pause to turn into calls that I missed.
BEE: Iris!
BEE: Pick. Up. Your. Phone. Now.
ROSA: That’s it. I’m coming to your place.
BEE: I’ll meet you there.
Almost an hour later, there were a few more missed calls before they called.
ROSA: Why are neither of you home?
ROSA: Where the hell are you two?
BEE: This isn’t funny, Iris.
ROSA: I knew he’d kidnap you.
ROSA: Don’t fall for the kidnapper, Iris.
BEE: At least, let us know you’re safe.
ROSA: You have till morning, then I’m starting to tear the city apart.
ROSA: Bring her back, Kian. Or I swear I will plaster posters of you on every street with the tag kidnapper. In caps. With the ugliest picture of you that I can find.
“Crap,” I curse, reading the last message.
“What?” murmurs Kian, his breath ruffling my hair. “What crime did your friend downgrade me to now?”
“None.” I chuckle. “She has ruled on your punishment though.”
“Should I be worried?”
“See for yourself.” I pass him the phone.
He quietly reads the messages, scrolling to the end. “I guess technically I did kidnap you.”
“Is it kidnapping if I’m a willing captive?”
“Then I’m safe.” Returning my phone, he says, “Let them know you’re fine. Your family too.”
