Page 65 of Relapse

“No.” She points aggressively at my chest. “You do not get to suddenly develop control issues because some creepy mob crypt keeper might maybe possibly know I’m back.”

“You don’t understand how this works.”

“And you don’t understand personal boundaries apparently.”

She tries stepping around me again.

I catch her around the waist before she makes it two feet.

“Dagger—”

Then I’m lifting her clean off the floor.

Blair lets out a sharp yelp immediately as I throw her over my shoulder.

“Oh my god!” She smacks the middle of my back. “Absolutely not. Put me down right now, you emotionally damaged caveman!”

Noir watches the entire thing silently from the kitchen island, completely unhelpful.

Traitor.

I carry her straight toward the couch while she keeps protesting the entire way.

“This is kidnapping!”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“I’m literally over your shoulder!”

“You’ll survive.”

“I hate both of you.”

“No you don’t.”

“That feels presumptuous for someone currently abducting me in sweatpants!”

I drop her onto the couch cushions a second later.

Blair immediately glares up at me while fixing the oversized hoodie riding halfway up her thighs now.

Her split pink and purple hair’s completely disheveled again from being hauled around like luggage, freckles flushed from anger while she crosses her arms aggressively.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re staying.”

She opens her mouth immediately.

Then pauses.

Looks toward the apartment door.

Toward Noir calmly scrolling through messages in the kitchen.

Back toward me standing directly in front of the couch.

And I literally watch the exact moment she realizes fighting both of us physically is probably a losing battle right now.