Why not?
I hastily type back.
“Everything okay?” My best friend frowns, thumbs twiddling in her lap. A habit of hers when she’s trying her best not to interfere.
“Yeah. Just the telco telling me I’m almost out of credit already.”
“Oh.”
The phone chirps again. Twice.
She lifts an eyebrow. Yeah—even I know a Telco wouldn’t send you multiple messages.
Her and I have history. She’ll turn you against me.
I raise an eyebrow as I read the text.
Shouldn’t be an issue if you’ve got nothing to hide.
I silence the phone and set it aside. “Tell me more about this president,” I ask her. “What’s he like?”
The screen lights up in my periphery, notification banners sliding over top of each other in rapid succession.
“Chaos?” Her brow shoots up.
I suppress the pleasurable shiver of his name spoken aloud. “Yeah.”
Marianna frowns. “How did you know that’s his name if you know nothing about them?”
Shit.“They came into the cafe last week.” Thank fuck for believable lies. “I heard Theresa say it.” Again, not entirely an untruth.I’m so going to hell.
“He’s complicated,” she sighs, avoiding my eye. “Bit of a fucked up family history.”
“Sounds familiar,” I jest as another flurry of notifications bombards the phone.
She smiles. “Similar, but not the same. At all.”
“Why?”
The phone illuminates again.
“His father used to be the president of the club.”
My heart hammers in my chest.“I killed my father, and I’ll kill yours too if you want me to.”
“But he became an informant for the DEA. Turned against his brothers, so they turned against him.”
“Sounds intense.”
“The murder investigation dragged on most of the senior year.”
My blood chills.He was a teenager when he did it.I force the words past a thick throat. “Must have been a rough year for him.”
“I guess.” She slides her focus to the device at my side. “What the hell is going on?”
“Nothing.” I shove it between my leg and the side of the seat. “You said they don’t terrorize the community. Whatdothey do?”
“Why all the questions, babe?” Marianna tilts her head, eyes narrowing.