Chapter 13

 

Sammi

12:29 PM SATURDAY

 

By the time I finish retelling the memory, I’m cradling my head in my hands, ass firmly planted on the lush grass of the monastery.

This is even worse than I thought.

Fucking married? To Lock?

No way. Couldn’t be.

What the hell did I do last night?

What the hell might have I done?

It’s definitely been more than our ten allotted minutes now, but at the moment I’m finding it hard to care.

Honestly, the way things are going, being forcibly removed from a monastery might be the high point of this trip.

Becky and Liam disperse, clearly sensing that I need a minute here.

Misty May’s not quite so perceptive at the moment, though.

Somehow, despite all the implications of my latest flash black, Mysti seems to think she’s the one who really screwed up.

She’s running around like a chicken with her head cut off, completely hysterical.

“I’m fucking cursed?” she asks no one in particular. “Cursed! What kind of curse? Sweet baby Jesus, is my hair gonna fall out?”

I don’t even have the energy to laugh.

“Well, this is unacceptable! I’m gonna talk to someone. I’ll have it removed, that’s it! I’ll just apologize, and they’ll uncurse me!”

She doesn’t wait for a response, which is great, because I have none to offer.

She just storms off towards the nearest group of monks, legs quickly eating up the distance.

Percy finds a spot and sits beside me, supportive but quiet.

Fuck, I love her.

It gives me time to think.

Okay, so this is bad. Very bad.

Though it might not yet be irreparable.

I may or may not currently be married to an Australian with a bad attitude.

And a magical tongue.

I’ve definitely cheated on Eggs. Multiple times.

I try to ignore the heat that flares up inside me at those specific memories.

Fucking Lock.

My only hope at this point is that we didn’t go through with the wedding. I mean, we were drunk out of our minds. Maybe we forgot?

Either way, I have to know.

It takes a great effort to lift my head, looking around as I do.

Becky and Liam are half-hidden behind a reclining Buddha statue, making out.

As if we have time for that.

“Liam, Becky!”

They turn toward me.

“Can you remember where we went gambling last night? Think!”

They both shake their heads, about what I was expecting.

“Now that you mention it, though,” Liam says slowly, “I guess that would explain where all that Thai baht came from.”

Great. Mystery solved, we can all go home now.

I know what I need to do. Really, at the moment there’s only one thing I can do.

Still, I hesitate a minute before pulling out my phone.

Fuck.

I take my time scrolling through the contacts. Truthfully, I’m hoping another plan will occur to me before I reach his name.

No such luck.

Screw it. I take a deep breath and press call.

“Hello there, darl,” he says, voice dripping with charm.

I’m not prepared for my own reaction, for the heat that surges through me at the sound of his voice.

Now that I’ve remembered being with him, I don’t think I’ll soon forget.

I shake my head, trying to clear the images forming there.

“Lock, I need to know where we went gambling last night.”

Short and to the point.

“Well, that’s not a very nice greeting,” he says. “I was expecting an apology.”

“Apology?”

“Yeah, for throwing me out naked. Ring any bells?”

I ignore the memory of him naked.

“Just tell me.” I say.

“Well, that’s no fun, is it? First, you tell me something.”

I groan. “What?”

“Remember anything good?”

I can hear him smiling through the phone.

It brings to mind an image of him on his knees, smiling up at me.

My heart thumps hard in my chest.

“I’m hanging up, Lock.”

“Alright, alright, wait. See, the thing is, Sammi, I can’t tell you.”

“What do you mean you can’t?”

I feel the heat in my stomach putter out, smothered by the anger building there.

He pauses too long, like an award show host who’s about to announce the winner.

“What’s with the suspense, Lock?” I ask, frustrated beyond belief.

“Look, darl, it’s proper dangerous. That’s all I’m gonna say. Even if I wanted to tell you where, I wouldn’t.”

“What’s dangerous? Fuck, Lock, could you be any more dramatic?”

“You can’t go back there,” he spits out, actually sounding serious for a change. “We, ah…we collectively fucked about there pretty thoroughly last night. If you’ve backtracked all the way to the gambling point of the night, you’ve likely realized by now—any place where our little party ended up last night, we’re not exactly welcome again. Ring any bells?”

I eye the Head Monk, currently standing at the top of a long set of stairs, gazing down at me like he’s ready to toss my ass off the mountain at any given moment.

“One or two,” I admit.

“Then you should understand that the gambling den is off limits—for you, Liam, and especially for Percy. It’s not safe.”

“Lock, I’m going to figure this out one way or another. If something isn’t safe, maybe you should just come the fuck out with it.”

Hopefully that’ll drive some sense into him.

“All I’m gonna tell you, love, is you do not fuck with the Bangkok mafia. Understand?”

Bangkok mafia.

What fresh hell is this?

“No. I do not understand.” I say, honestly.

“You understand enough. Just drop it, okay?”

“Fine. I will.”

I won’t.

“Good,” he says, back to dripping with charm. “Now, will you tell me what you remember?”

I ignore his question completely.

“Did we get married last night?” I ask instead.

His laugh makes my blood boil.

“So you do remember something!”

“Just tell me.”

Again with the long drawn out pause.

“No,” he says. “I don’t think I’ll tell you. You’re a smart cookie, Sammi. I think I’ll just let you figure this one out on your own.”

“Asshole.”

I end the call.

“No luck?” Percy asks from beside me.

“Not much.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll think of something.”

I look around for Becky and Liam, waving them over before reciting the gist of the call.

Once they’re there, I launch into it.

When I get to the part about the Bangkok mafia, the girls both look concerned. I can hardly blame them.

Liam, on the other hand, breaks out into a huge grin.

“What is it?” I ask him.

“Bangkok mafia,” he laughs. “I’m a professional gambler. If you wanna gamble with the mafia, I know exactly where to go.”

“Finally some good news,” I say, hope rekindling in my chest. “Well, let’s go then!”

A normal person might shy away from a visit to the mafia.

Not my gang.

Percy stands, helping me to my feet.

“Alright,” she says, “now we’re talkin’. Let’s grab Misty and get the hell out of here!”

I spot her immediately, across the ground and practically surrounded by monks.

When we reach her, she’s sobbing so hard her mascara is smeared across her cheeks.

“Everything okay?” Percy asks.

“These dickheads won’t uncurse me!”

There are few things people won’t do to appease a truly angry woman. But apparently, Mysti May’s feminine wiles haven’t worked on these angry monks…who are looking angrier by the minute, I’m afraid.

“We’ll deal with it later,” I tell her. “We’ve gotta go.”

I quickly fill her in, telling her everything we’ve learned.

She actually perks up a little when I mention the mafia.

“Okay. So, where to then?” she asks.

“Don’t worry,” Liam says, grinning like a shark. “I’ve got this part.”

As one, we head back towards the road. If anything, even more determined to figure this mess out.