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“Can you believe that? She gave me her card.” I picked it up from the kitchen counter. Of course I’d brought it home with me. Still hadn’t ruled out ripping it up into little pieces and then setting it on fire, but right now, I stared at the card, the black numbers swimming in front of my eyes.

What did Echowant? Was this all part of some master plan to throw me off my game, which would then throw off my squad? I wouldn’t put it past her. She’d been a schemer when we’d met.

Echo had been the one to plan each of our rendezvous and think about all the contingencies so we didn’t get caught, and we hadn’t. Echo’s mind worked in mysterious ways, and that was one of the things that had really grabbed me at the beginning. Plus, her body. Let’s be real, I was superficial to the core and hot won out over smart more times than I was willing to admit.

Echo was hot and smart and mean. Deadly, vicious combination.

I turned the card over and over in my hands before setting it down, pouring myself a glass of wine, and having a think.

So far, Echo had been the one with the upper hand. I didn’t know what her plans or motives were, but I definitely needed to start fighting fire with fire.

It was time to make what was definitely a bad decision.

Eight

Ididn’t consult anyof my friends about the text message I wrote, but I should have. I typed and retyped it at least ten times and made sure it struck the right tone.

“I can’t hit send. You hit send.” Meatball was in my lap, and I used his paw to hit send on the message. That way, I could say that it wasn’ttechnicallyme. Plausible deniability was my friend.

“What a naughty kitty,” I said to him as he blinked and licked my hand.

Now we waited for a response. My heart drummed hard as I waited to see the little bubbles that meant she was sending a return message.

It didn’t take long for those bubbles to pop up, and then there it was.

Hey Kiri, you thinking about me?

I gnawed at my bottom lip, deciding how I wanted to play this.

Maybe. You shouldn’t have given me your number.

Meatball meowed and pawed at the phone and I moved it out of his reach.

“No, your part is over,” I said to him. “It’s my turn now.”

If I hadn’t given you my number, we wouldn’t be talking right now, would we?