No Strings Attached | ✔

IX. Calling It Quits

        I get back home after my kiss-and-make-up with Jonah, falling onto my couch and exhaling heavily into the pillow. As nice as Jonah's lips are or how good-looking his face is, I can't just continue this pretending bullshit and let him spoil me rotten with his good seduction skills. I need to do my job. But that's too hard! I've only known Blondie for three days, four including this one, and I'm already slipping up! Really, getting information out of someone shouldn't be this hard. I'm in the mafia, for Christ's sake! I'm definitely not known for taking the slow-burn approach, so I have not one fucking idea as to why I'm letting Jonah down slowly.

        I sit up on the couch, an irritated scowl on my face. I can just go back to robbing banks, but . . . God. I might die if I try to quit this mafia gig. I rub my face and pull my phone out from my pocket, standing from my seat and pacing around. I call Necksnapper, repeating so until he finally picks up.

        Before he can give me an annoyed, "What?" I blurt, "I can't get any information outta him! I wanna drop out."

        "You can't and you won't." Necksnapper says rather quickly. I guess he was anticipating this. "You've already secured a bond with that man, so you need to be the one to end it. He wouldn't be so keen on falling for another member so quick. Besides, we're short on men."

        My nose wrinkles at "falling for". Me and Jonah are mutual hook-ups. Jesus, is Necksnapper imagining a gay porno between me and Clayton or what? "Me and him had a deal there would be no strings attached. Sex is only my way to get to him."

        "Make sure to keep it that way." Then Necksnapper hangs up.

        I sit back down on the couch, placing my phone screen-down on the coffee table in front of me. You know what? I'm just going to watch Netflix and pass out. Fuck this.