Iris groaned, rolling her eyes. “I told you, I don’t want to kill you, why are you so fucking fixated on that?” Honestly.

There song changed to the next track on the album - not as energetic, more of a ballad. Iris could have stopped for a moment, get just the right tune playing, but that’d mean letting go of Delilah. And honestly, she was happy where she was.

“So,” she said, starting to sway a little. “What does the CIA want with me, anyway?”