“Unless you’re into the chloroform play after all.” I glared at him. “Leave it to you to make jokes about kidnapping someone.” “It wasn’t a joke.” He helped up his hand to signal Anton, who was parked twenty feet down the block. “No, psycho. I’m not into ‘chloroform play.’” He smiled. “Okay, it was a joke, but I rather like it when you get all riled up.” I slapped his arm as Anton pulled to the curb in front of us. “There is something really wrong with you.” “I know.”
