I take another sip of the coffee. “I messaged someone after he left.”
“Who?”
None of your motherfucking business.
“A friend.”
Thatcher doesn’t press, and I’m both shocked and relieved. “Go ahead.”
I dig through my tote until I find Bastian’s phone, pulling it out and quickly unlocking it to check when I DMd him.
“Nice phone,” Thatcher says.
“Thanks,” I mumble, glancing up at him through my lashes. As soon as our eyes connect, he drops his gaze and scratches down something in his notebook.
Sweat prickles at the nape of my neck as I scroll to Friday night’s DMs.
@lee.haven
You were right.
About everything.
“Nine twenty,” I murmur. “So Kai left before that.”
“How long before that?”
I shrug. How long does it usually take to wreck a place? Ten minutes? Fifteen?
“A quarter hour, maybe.”
“Why didn’t you go with him?” His eyes are on me again, and I wish they weren’t. I quickly shove the phone back into my tote.
Being in this guy’s periphery makes me feel like a mass murderer, even though I’m not the one in a holding cell right now.
“I didn’t want to.”
“Because of the fight you two had?”
“He told you about that?” I push the words through a tight throat.
Thatcher says nothing. Because he doesn’t fucking have to, because Kai is a fucking rat. And here I am, trying to defend the fucking snitch.
“Yeah, we had a fight,” I say, crossing my arms tight over my chest. “He was being a pussy about speaking to his mom, and I told him to grow up.”
“He doesn’t like speaking to his mom?”
I snort, then force my face into a neutral expression and shrug. “You’d have to ask him.”
“And then he got violent?”
Violent? I frown hard, shaking my head. “No. What?—”
He’s fucking baiting me. I take a deep breath, releasing it slowly through my nose. Again.
And Thatcher doesn’t blink once.
“He was upset, that’s all. Told me to stay out of his business. And then he left to go drinking with his buddy.”
