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“He’s right,” Hunter tells Zay. “If we want her to help us, we’re gonna have to be upfront.”
Zay drags his hand across his mouth, glancing at me and then at Hunter. “You want to tell her everything?”
“Well, not everything, since it’ll take all damn night,” Hunter says, “but we can tell her a little bit about what we do and let her sleep on that. Then, tomorrow, she can let us know if she wants to help us, and we can give her our whole background.”
Their whole background?
I can’t help thinking about how Katy made it seem like they were a mystery, and now they’re saying they’re going to tell me everything about them?
I wonder if it’s true?
Zay deliberates for a moment before nodding. “Fine, tell her. But only after we make a pact that what we say between the four of us, stays between the four of us. And if anyone breaks the pact, then they’re out. Kicked out of the group. Finished—”
“Okay, we get the picture,” Hunter cuts him off. “Jesus, Zay.”
“I’m just trying to protect us,” he stresses. “That’s all.”
Protect them from what, though?
“I know,” Hunter says, his voice softening. “And making a pact is fine. You just don’t need to be so intense about it.” He looks at me. “Are you okay with making that pact?”
I nod without a drop of hesitation, since I have no one to tell and nothing to lose really. “Of course.”
The edges of his lips tip up into a relieved smile then he looks at Jax. “Are good with that?”
Jax shrugs. “I have no problem with it.”
Hunter bobs his head up and down then looks at me. “Honestly, you already know some of it already.”
“You mean, like how you can track people’s numbers and stuff?” I ask, scooting forward in the seat.
His lips quirk. “That’s only a little bit of what we do. We can do a lot more things.”
“What sorts of things?” I ask while folding my arms on the back of the seat.
“Oh, we can do a lot of things,” Hunter says with a drop of playfulness in his tone.
Zay elbows him in the side. “Stick to the topic.”
Hunter blasts him with a dirty look, but his expression softens when he returns his focus to me. “While we can track people’s numbers—which FYI, we still need to work on yours more—our specialty is more PI type of stuff.”
“PI … As in a private investigator?” I ask with intrigue.
He nods, strands of his hair falling into his eyes. “Pretty much.”
“Wow … That’s awesome, but weird,” I say. “I mean, you guys are eighteen. How did you even get into this sort of stuff?”
“That’s a question to ask tomorrow,” Hunter explains. “For right now, all we need you to do is go back to your house and think about if you want to help us figure out why in the hell your family is off the grid.”
“Unless you already know,” Zay says, his gaze boring into me.
I carry his gaze. “I really don’t. I didn’t even know that until you guys told me.” What I do want to know, though, is how much they were able to find out about me. They said they found a few articles about my parents, but do they know about my possible involvement in their deaths, or how I can’t remember much about my past? While I’m not going to bring up the first, I can tell them the latter.
“I should probably tell you guys that I have some memory loss,” I admit. “I can’t really remember much about my past leading up to when I had to move in with my aunt and uncle.”
“Really?” Zay asks, and I nod. “Why?”
I swallow the lump wedged in my throat then shrug. “I’ve never been officially diagnosed, but I did see a therapist once, and he suggested it was from the trauma of my … my parents’ deaths.” I stare down at my lap, unable to look any of them in the eyes.
