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He exhaled harshly, making his chest brush against mine. “Don’t test me.”
Then he was gone, stalking away from me, back to his dad.
With a sigh, I followed them.
7
KNOX
The club restaurant was quiet, and my dad had arranged for us to be seated in one of the booths in the far corner of the space, so at least no one would see Elena. On the pretence of acting gentlemanly, I let her slide into the booth first before seating myself next to her, trapping her in place.
She was fucking up to something. I didn’t know what it was, but what she didn’t know was that I’d seen the scruffy, bearded guy that was walking away from her. No idea who he was, and I didn’t think my dad had even noticed him, but there was something really shifty about him.
“As I mentioned earlier, we haven’t had a chance to speak properly yet,” my dad was saying to Elena when I tuned back into the conversation. “How are you settling in?”
“Well, thank you,” she said, putting on her toothachingly sweet polite voice that set my teeth on edge.
How much did we know about this girl? I knew whatever agency her mum had been hired through would have run a basic background check on them both, checking for any criminal records and so on, as per legal requirements, but had my dad bothered with anything deeper?
He must’ve done. This was JoJo. The baby of our family and the light of my parents’ lives. They wouldn’t entrust her care to someone they hadn’t vetted thoroughly.
But even as I told myself this, I had a feeling in my gut that I couldn’t ignore. There was something about Elena fucking Greenwood. Something I was going to get to the bottom of.
Maybe it was time to get my friends involved.
While my dad was occupied with explaining every fucking dish on the menu to Elena, I pulled out my phone, balancing it on my thigh and angling it so that if Elena looked down, she wouldn’t see the screen. I sent off a quick text to Tristan, asking him to keep an eye out for anything suspicious, and then I texted Roman. I knew he had a cousin down on the south coast who was some kind of hacker or computer genius or some shit. Someone who could be useful in digging up any dirt on Elena Greenwood.
Me:
Hey, Ro. Am I right in thinking your cousin is a hacker?
He didn’t take long to respond, which was good because my dad was one of those people who hated anyone using their phones at the table—unless he was the one doing it.
Roman:
Yeah, Weston. Not a hacker or so he says, but he might as well be. Why? What are you up to?
Me:
I might need some info on someone
Roman:
I’ll ask him. If he can help it’ll cost you
Me:
You know money’s not an issue
Roman:
OK I’ll send your number to him and he’ll contact you if he can help. If so I want all the details
Me:
Appreciate it. Too much to explain over text, but it involves the new girl
Roman:
