“And you think I’dwantto see that?” I said, talking slowly.
His eyebrows furrowed, and he faced me fully. “Yes,” he said slowly.
“You’re an idiot,” Kyan mumbled, flipping the page of the menu.
“Wait, what?” Sinclair scowled and turned to me. “You didn’t like that?”
I blinked and turned away from him.
“Briar.” Elias cleared his throat. “Once we’re done here, we can go get your things from the apartment.”
Panic stopped my breathing. I clawed for a reason to dissuade him.
“No way would they keep anything without payment,” I said, dancing around the truth.
“You’re right.” He frowned. “We should have thought to collect them when you . . .” He paused, thinking. “Anyway, they should have put your things in storage for a certain amount of time. Kyan, can you look into that?—”
“My . . . friend, put everything in my car for me.” The truth was,everythingwas in my car because I’d been living in it, so there was nothing to pack inside that apartment. It’d been a long time since I’d lived there.
“Friend?” Sinclair leaned forward.
“That’s fine. We can get your car towed to the house.”
“Who is this friend?”
I liked how the rest of us were on the same page, ignoring Sinclair.
I didn’t answer Elias immediately because if they got to my car, it could open me up to their curiosity. I would definitely spill that I’d been living out of my car for the last few months before I went to them.
It was a risk I had to take.
“My car was impounded by Alpha Recovery Towing.”
I could already feel their confusion in the furrowing of their brows, and through Kyan’s side of the bond, it flashed briefly to me.
The server approached, holding a notepad.
“Are we ready to order?” he asked, cheerful.
“Yes,” I emphasized, glad for the distraction.
Chapter 44
The tow truck reversed with my little car and began to lower the back end with a low hum. I watched, anxiously peeking at them and then back to the car. All three surrounded me, so I tried to keep my reactions under control.
Since we’d returned from dinner, they’d been especially quiet. I managed to get my way and have them all stay in their bedrooms; none of them bothered me, and it was a damned relief to sneak into the bathroom to smoke last night without worrying that Sinclair was going to find me out.
This morning, my P.O. came to do my routine check-in, which had gone smoothly. I especially loved how she ignored Sinclair’s very obvious presence, trying to be intimidating.
The tow driver hopped out, unlatched my car, and placed his chains into the back compartment. He swiped his palms on the pants of his uniform.
“All done, remember to leave a review,” he chirped, not reading the anxiety pluming out of me and leeching into the guys.
He hopped back into his truck and drove off.
It took me a few tries, but I managed to spit out what I wanted to say.
“Can I have some privacy?”
