He exhales through his nose again, gaze sharpening. “Told you. We’re friends.”
I log everything. The way he doesn’t blink. The lack of nervous tells. The irritation in his voice. Not fear, not guilt. Just annoyance, like this conversation is wasting his time.
I narrow my eyes, searching his face.
He doesn’t look away.
Shit.
Maybe I got this wrong.
Still, I don’t move.
“You know who I am?”
He blinks. “Her neighbor or something?”
“I’m her brother.”
Something shifts in his face. Just a flicker. He leans back, just slightly.
“Didn’t know she had a brother,” he says, and this time, his voice has something new in it.
Caution.
“She does,” I say. “And he doesn’t like strange men sitting in unmarked cars outside the house she sleeps in.”
He huffs out a humorless laugh. “Okay. You’re protective. I get it. But you’re coming in hot over nothing. I told you. I’m just waiting for her.”
“Without plates?”
He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, man. They got stolen. I reported it. Didn’t think I’d get grilled over it.”
“And no temp tags? No paperwork in the window?”
“I wasn’t planning on being parked here long.”
We stare at each other.
Then I take a step back, not letting up. “Call her.”
He blinks. “What?”
“You say you’re friends. Prove it. Call her.”
“I don’t have to prove anything to you,” he says.
“You don’t,” I agree. “But when the cops show up and you’ve got no plates, creeping in the neighbourhood? You’ll wish you had.”
His jaw tightens.
“I don’t like being pushed,” he mutters, not looking at me.
“And I don’t like creeps near my sister.”
“I’m not calling her,” he says finally. “Not out here. I don’t want to drag her into this.”
“You already have.”
