Sixty-Nine

Gia

“Breathe, honey,” Kian consoled me, rubbing small circles on my back.

Never mind being killed by hunters. The inscription on my headstone would read “Choked to death on a sour cherry gin sling.” It burned my throat like a motherfucker.

“What’s wrong?” Cyrus asked, sounding alarmed. “Did she swallow one of those damned cherry stones?” he whirled around and glared at the bartender. “It’s supposed to be a cocktail, not a fruit fucking salad!” he roared. “Pit the fucking stones before I pit out your fucking heart.” He turned to me, his face flooded with concern. “Are you all right, shug?”

I swatted the air dismissively. “It’s okay . . . it’s fine . . . I’m all right. It just went down the wrong way.”

Kian handed me a napkin to wipe my eyes and the cocktail juice from my chin. Cyrus’s frown remained in place. I was trembling from head to toe, scared shitless that hunters wanted to kill me. Clearly, I was a long way from being fine.

“This isn’t a conversation I want to be having around