7. Kiki

Chapter 7

Kiki

I stare at the cave ceiling counting stalactites like they're sheep. One, two, three… Nope, not working. My mind is racing like a cheetah on Red Bull.

Envious, I glance around at my fellow dorm mates. They’re all snoozing away while I'm over here reliving the day's events on a never-ending loop.

Running from a dangerous drug cartel out to end me? Check.

Arrival at underground Sasquatch Central? Check.

Screaming like a lunatic at one of my hosts who was only being sweet and offering me a floral bouquet? Ugh, double check.

I suck.

I flip onto my side, punching my pillow into submission. It's no use. Sleep insists on playing hard to get tonight.

So, here's the million-dollar question: Do I stick it out for the full thirty days, or do I tap out early? I mean, Frank said we could leave whenever we wanted, right? But then what? It's not like I've got a cozy apartment and a thriving social life to rush back to.

I let out a long, labored sigh. The truth is, this place isn't half bad. The accommodations are surprisingly comfortable, the food's delicious, and hey, no one's trying to kill me. That's a plus.

Besides, where else am I gonna go? Back to another roach motel, watching telenovelas and eating ramen while I wait for the Vega Cartel to catch up or the Marshals to relocate me once more?

I roll over again. I might as well give it up. I’m not going to be able to sleep

Maybe I can tour this place on my own. Is that okay? I wonder. Enfys said we’re not confined to the room and that we’re safe. Still, that commotion earlier outside our door... Some of the Sasquatches clearly don’t want us here.

What if they’re out there?

And what if they are? That little devil on my shoulder asks.

Enfys assured us that no Sasquatch would ever hurt us. And I’ve faced much worse. Once, the gown I wore to the Met Gala was almost identical to Sarah Jessica Parker’s. Now, that was a nightmare .

I toss off the covers and sit up, my bare feet hitting the warm stone floor. I’m aware it’s my curiosity that landed me here in the first place. My curiosity’s to blame for being in the wrong place at the wrong time and witnessing a mass execution by the head of one of the most dangerous, most ruthless cartels in history. And here I am.

Still, I need to see what’s out there for myself. You never learn, do you Kiki?

I tiptoe to the bathroom first, easing the door shut behind me. The lights flicker on automatically, and I'm once again dazzled by the sheer luxury of this place. I mean, heated floors? In a cave? Shut the front door.

I reach up to scratch my head under the wig. Ahh, relief. I don't normally sleep in a wig, and maybe it's a bit crazy to keep up my Maria disguise here since apparently we’ll all be getting a memory erase before we leave, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

I straighten the wig and pop on my non-Rx glasses before I gingerly ease out of the dorm, careful not to wake the others.

The corridor is quiet, empty, and a sliver of excitement snakes down my spine. Who’d have thought I’d ever be lurking around an underground cave city inhabited by big furry beasts? Not, me, that’s for sure.

I'm not gonna lie, it's a bit of a thrill, exploring this strange new world. Like I'm Alice, and I've just tumbled down the most bizarre rabbit hole imaginable.

“Alright, Grotto, let's see what you've got,” I whisper aloud as I pad down the hall, my heart doing a little tap dance in my chest.

I wander corridors and poke my nose into a few darkened rooms. It’s very quiet. I wonder how big this place is and how deep this city goes.

I duck into a large, cavernous room that looks like it might be a restaurant or something, then into another that might be some sort of store room.

I don’t bother opening any of the closed doors. The last thing I want is to startle one of the large beasts out of a dead sleep. Even I’m not that brave.

Rounding a corner, I spot an eerie glow emanating from a doorway a few yards to my left. Oh, hell, I can’t resist an eerie glow, so I head over to explore.

When I enter, I stop short, my jaw practically hitting the floor. In front of me is the most eye-catching sight. The room is small in comparison to some of the other spaces I poked my head into tonight, and it’s dominated by a steaming pool of water. The walls are lined with some sort of plant or mushroom or something—thousands upon thousands of them—and they’re all glowing , casting the space in an ethereal blueish-green light. It’s mesmerizing.

But that's not what has me gaping like a fish. No, that honor goes to the hulking figure lounging in the pool, head tipped back, eyes closed in apparent bliss.

For a split second, my brain short-circuits. Because I’m staring at one fine male specimen. Broad chest, strapping muscular shoulders...Then he shifts, and reality comes crashing back like a cold shower. That’s not a man. Nope. That there is a Sasquatch. A very large, very furry Sasquatch.

But as I stand there, gawking like a teenager at a Jonas Brothers concert, the figure in the pool turns and...It's him. The Sasquatch from earlier. The one in whose face I let loose a gut wrenching scream. Yeah, him.

Oh, shit. Ohhhh, shit.

What do I do? I stand frozen debating whether to stay and apologize or book it back to the safety of the dorm room when his eyes flutter open and lock with mine.

Time stands still. My breath catches in my throat. It's like one of those moments in the movies, where the world fades away and it's just the two main characters, lost in each other's eyes.

Except, you know, instead of some dashing, chiseled-jawed heartthrob, I'm caught in a staring contest with a mythical creature who probably thinks I'm one banshee wail away from a padded cell.

He blinks, and I swear I can see the confusion and hurt from our earlier encounter flickering in those soulful, surprisingly human-like eyes.