“Fuck!”
The shout woke Sebastian with a flailing start. His arm reached automatically down the side of the mattress, to the knife he kept beneath it.
It wasn’t there.
Alarmed and disoriented and still half-asleep, Sebastian scanned the room. This wasn’t his bed, his flat—
—and then he remembered the hotel, and last night.
Jay sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed, wearing the loose t-shirt and boxers he’d gone to sleep in. His attention was entirely on the phone in his hands; he tapped furiously at the screen, muttering a long string of invective.
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