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“Malachi?” I blink, realizing I’ve frozen on the spot and my parents are staring at me like I have two heads. I mean, I do.
I hunt for candles, set them up on the coffee table, set out bowls of chips and various dips, and make sure the bottle of wine is in some ice. See? I can be romantic when I’m not on a warpath of revenge. Thanks to Google and reading too many forums, I’ve taken notes on this shit.
I’ve even hacked the security cameras of the coffee shop she goes to on the way to work.
I think I like this guy, but I hate Base—he’s like an insane little puppy who won’t fucking stop. Images of me kicking him off a cliff keep springing to mind, and I might need to do just that.
“This is Tobes. He’s a little evil.” He glares at him. “Don’t test my patience.” “And a little touchy,” Base adds. “He doesn’t like me very much because I’ve made both his daughter and his son come.”
“Tobes. Help me,” Base says into the phone pressed to his ear. “The siblings are fucking in the backseat, and I’m certain the mute just spoke.”

