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Zay slants against the doorway. “Sounds like fun, but you need to figure out who it is first.”
“Oh, I will,” Hunter assures him as my phone lets out a series of beeps.
Hunter sinks into silence then as he gets all intense, clicking buttons and muttering underneath his breath. Zay stares at me, something I’m starting to notice he does, and I’m not certain why. And he does it so openly, as if he doesn’t give a crap if I’m aware he’s doing it.
After a few seconds of simply looking at me, he pushes away from the doorway and crosses the room, holding the plate out to Hunter. Without looking up from the screen, Hunter grabs a sandwich and takes a huge bite. Then, in a surprising move, Zay puts the plate out for me to take one.
I reach for one, but he moves the plate out of the way. “Not that one. Take the middle one.” He puts the plate back in front of me.
“Why? Is that the one you poisoned?” I joke as I pick up the middle one.
He gives me a hardy har har look. “No, smartass, that’s the one that didn’t get butter all the way to the corners. You know, the less greasy one that you were raving about in the kitchen.”
“Oh … Thanks then.” It was kind of nice of him to make sure I got that one.
At least, that’s what I think until he shrugs and says, “No one else wants to eat it. We like greasy.” He sinks down onto the coffee table that’s in front of us.
“Well, you’re all missing out, ’cause this way is the best.” I take a big bite and lick up some cheese that drips onto the side of my hand.
Zay is watching me with an indecipherable, but I’m guessing it’s more than likely due to my unladylike eating etiquette. But the whole term ladylike is stupid, in my opinion. Like, just because I have a vagina, I can’t lick yummy cheese off my hand? Yeah, screw that.
Finally, Zay drags his gaze off me. “I heard a rumor today that one of the families might be sending trouble our way,” he tells Hunter.
“Story of our damn lives,” Hunter mutters, half-listening.
I freeze mid-bite. “Families?”
Zay leans back on one hand while taking a bite of his sandwich. “Yeah, families. Has no one explained this to you yet? I thought someone would’ve gossiped about it by now.”
“No one’s really talked to me except for you guys, and Harlow.” I pick a chunk of sandwich off and pop it into my mouth. “And she mentioned it today but said she didn’t want to talk about it while we were in school and someone could overhear us. She seemed kind of twitchy about it.”
“She should be,” Zay tells me. “The families aren’t something anyone should be gossiping about in the hallways. Even Low.”
“Why do you say it like that? Like she’s … I don’t know … exempt from certain rules or something.”
Hunter, who up until this point has been pushing buttons like a mad man, freezes.
Zay looks at him then, and Hunter lifts his gaze to him. They exchange a look.
“We’re going to have to tell her sometime,” Zay says like they actually had a conversation. “She’s with us now, which means she’s at risk if she doesn’t know.”
Reluctance masks his expression. “I know but … I like that she’s unaware of the messed-up shit that we come from.”
Zay’s gaze turns cold. “You need to check yourself.”
Hunter glares at him. “Fuck you.”
I feel beyond uncomfortable and, to be honest, confused. Why is Hunter getting so mad at him? And what does he by,he needs to check himself?
“Zay’s right; she needs to know.” Jax enters the room with a sandwich in his hand and a plate of mac and cheese in the other. “She won’t be safe if we don’t tell her eventually.” He looks at me then, and his expression softens. “I’m sorry if I’m scaring you.”
“You’re not,” I tell him. “And I think we already established that I don’t scare easily.”
His lips remain in a thin line. “If something is going to scare you, this’ll be it. And to be honest, I’d prefer if you could just stay out of it. But Zay’s right; you do need to know. It’s important if you’re going to stay safe while you’re here.”
“You said this wasn’t mobster stuff.” I eye him over. “But again, with the way that you’re acting, it sounds awful mobster-ish.”
“That’s because it is,” Zay states. “Jax just likes to pretend it’s not.”
