Around 9 PM, his phone buzzed. A text from Kian.
Kian: Come to this location by 7 AM.
Xal: Sure. Anything I need to bring?
Xal: How should I dress?
Kian: Aren't you old enough to figure that out? Do whatever. Make sure you keep me safe.
He stared at the screen, rechecked the number if he had texted the right person, because this was not the personality he was expecting. He thought Kian was a kind person, a little bit dorky, and understanding.
Forcing deep breaths, he decided to see this through. It took everything in him not to smash the phone to the ground.
The fucking attitude!
He'd dealt with spoiled, entitled brats before. But this one had a way of slipping under his skin like no other. His thumb hovered over the keyboard, locking his jaw, fingers twitching, holding back from typing what he actually wanted to respond with.
Unfortunately, he needed this job. Nostrils flaring, he typed:
Xal: Got it. So this is it for tomorrow?
Kian: No… one more place to go. After that, you drop me back. That's it.
Xal: Sounds good.
Kian: Oka.
Kian: Okay.
"Fucker." He threw the phone onto the bed, the screen face down.
The agenda didn't sound life-threatening yet, but he'd stay on alert. 7 AM is early. Turning off the lights, he shifted on the bed, dragging the pillow under his head, eyes still open to the dark. Xehelya's face flickered across his mind, that smile she had when she teased him. His fists hit against his thighs, heat rising in his chest.
He wanted to find Khem.
Wanted to end it.
Slowly, the sleep crept in, restless and jagged.