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Matt snorted again. “She is not a reporter. She’s barely even a blogger. She’s—”
She slid into the booth at that very second, and froze, hearing Matt’s voice.
She took me in, took in Matt.
I didn’t think she saw Kash yet.
She started to bolt.
She got as far as the edge of the booth before Kash was there, and he was glowering down at her. She’d worn a white silk shirt, her hair was plaited in two braids. She almost had a schoolmarm look going on, with her glasses, her red lipstick, and the black skirt she had donned for this meeting.
She froze again, head up, mouth hanging open, before she cursed under her breath. “Oh, no.”
“Slide in.” Kash’s command was not an option.
She gulped before she did what he said.
Matt started, because I knew he would. “Oh, fuck indeed. Camille Story, aka Quinn’s bitch, aka Hoda’s puppet master, who probably gave her name up to Kash’s grandfather.” He leaned forward, hissing, “You got her killed. Take ownership of that.”
Her eyes got bigger and bigger, the more he talked. She also got smaller and smaller in the booth, until she was almost shrunk half under the table. “I am not. What?” She pushed back up. “The only person I gave Hoda’s name to was Quinn. What she did with it, that’s on her. Not me.”
“Right. You’re so innocent.”
“I’m not saying I’m innocent, but what do you expect? Your family tried to ruin me. You tried to ruin Hoda. I know you ruined Quinn—”
I burst forward. “Quinn is guilty! She tried to have me killed. You’re on the wrong side here if you think you’re some vigilante blogger.”
She startled, pushing her glasses back up.
She looked at Kash, who was scowling at her. Then at Matt, who was also scowling, but he had more of a glare, and he raised his eyebrow at her.
“Are you serious?”
Matt snorted. “You’re unbelievable. All that evidence. Calhoun’s men killed your friend! Don’t you care?”
“I feel bad about Hoda, but this is war. And in times of war, there are casualties—”
“Would you like to be one?”
The question came from Kash, and it was said quietly, but damn, chills down my back.
Camille was feeling the same, because I caught the shiver before she swallowed once again. “Are you threatening me?”
“No,” said Matt.
“Yes,” said Kash.
“Dude! She probably has a recorder on her.”
Kash looked down, picked up her purse, and dumped it out on the table.
“Oh my God! That’s personal property. You can’t do that.”
Kash was starting to look through her things. “Report me.”
She sat back, her eyebrows pinched together and her whole mouth pursed. “I’m not okay with this, with any of this. You are going through my things. You are threatening my well-being. You are holding me here against my will…”
And I was done hearing her complaints.
