Ford looks around as if searching for something in the cab. “Huh. That’s weird.” He pauses, bending down to look under the seat. “Do you see any repercussions, Hawke?”
“No. No, I do not see any repercussions, Ford. Do you see any repercussions, Jagger?” Hawke asks.
“Only our father’s for hanging our trust funds over our heads and not liking how we responded by building a name for ourselves,” I answer. “Now, will that be all? Or…?” My question hangs in the air for a solid five seconds until the call goes dead. The entire cab breathes out a long sigh. We might talk a big game, but the truth is, none of us want to be on our father’sradar. We only want to be left alone. And for some reason we don’t fathom, Titas can’t let this shit go.
“How do you think he knew?” Hawke asks.
I check my rearview mirror, confirming what I already knew. No one’s following us. I have my truck checked for tracking devices at least once a week. Which means one thing. “I think Gus has a mole.”
Hawke sighs. “You and me both, brother.”
The drive is only about twenty minutes until I’m home. It’s late. I’m exhausted. But after lying in bed for three hours, I finally give in and head to the gym.
Maybe a good workout will curb my racing thoughts.
It doesn’t do shit. I’m too pent up from my conversation about Violet with my brothers and Roman in the car earlier.
Scrubbing my hand over my sweaty face, I finally give in, head back to my room, and unplug my phone from its charger on my nightstand. I’ve had Violet’s contact information since the day I reached out to the school about her living arrangement, though I doubt she knows it.
Maybe it’s because it’s still dark outside. Maybe it’s because of my conversation with my brothers. Maybe it’s because I can’t stop thinking about how good she felt when she came on my hand. I pull up her contact information and send her a text.
Me
You up, Little Thief?
Her response is almost instant.
Little Thief
Who is this?
I sit on the edge of the bed and type my reply.
Me
Do others call you Little Thief?
Little Thief
How did you get my number?
Always so suspicious. I guess I don’t blame her. Considering what I’ve learned about her home life, she’s probably not used to this kind of attention unless it’s negative.
Me
I have my ways.
Little Thief
It was Ford, wasn’t it?
My low laugh surprises me as I reread her message. She’s so quick to toss out accusations. And even though I know Ford has her number, she can blame the school for this one. Well, the school and my connections, but I think I’ll keep that to myself.
Me
Not going to reveal my sources.
Little Thief
