“Insurance money,” Roman interjects.“People in The Drift do shit like that all the time.Life insurance.Home insurance.Doesn’t matter.When you’ve paid into a pot long enough without getting anything in return, and you’re desperate for cash, it’s only a matter of time before the idea pops into your head.With every shitty day, it starts to look sweeter and sweeter.”
“Yeah, but our days aren’t shitty,” Jagger points out.
“Not that people know of, anyway,” I add dryly.
Hawke scrubs his hand through his hair, suggesting, “What if they wanted us home?It was late.They could’ve expected us to be winding down.”
“Or they knew we were out,” I offer.
“We weren’t supposed to be,” Jagger reminds me.“If Hawke hadn’t sent the text…”
My pulse ratchets.“Wait.”
Judge frowns.“What am I missing?”
“We were at The Body Shop because June and Vi were there,” I explain.
“And why were they there?”Judge prods.
Jagger stands from his perch on the arm of the couch, pulls out his phone, and dials a number.It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who he’s calling.While I was talking with June outside her apartment, Jagger checked the place and made sure everything was locked up.It doesn’t hurt that he installed an insane security system a couple of weeks ago.It was his first order of business after Violet’s dad showed up at her door drunk off his ass.I’m grateful for it, too.Not that I thought she’d be in any danger before.But now?Now, I’m not so sure.The possibility fucks with my head.
“Hey, Little Thief,” he rumbles into his cell.Silence.“Yeah.Yeah, we’re okay.Listen.”He scrapes his hand from the top of his head down to his chin before dropping his head back toward the ceiling.“Why did you decide to go to The Body Shop tonight?”He pauses.“I know you already told me.I just want to confirm.”Silence.His chest heaves on a sigh.“That’s what I thought.Thanks, Vi.”Silence.“Yeah.Yeah, you, too.I’ll talk to you tomorrow.Stay safe.”
The call disconnects, and his hand falls to his side.“Lex invited them to hang out during her shift.”
Well, shit.Not exactly a nail in the coffin, but it doesn’t paint Lexie in the best light, either.Would she play her friends like this?Manipulate them, and more importantly,us, in the process if her brother asked?
Coming to the same twisted conclusion, Hawke growls, “She wouldn’t.”
“You don’t know that,” Jagger starts.
“Yes, I fucking do.”Hawke pushes to his feet.“I’ve been watching that girl’s every move for months.She would never use her friends as bait to get us away from the house.”
“She might if she was in danger,” Roman suggests.
Hawke’s head shakes back and forth.“No.Bullshit.Not even then.I know it?—”
“Right now, we don’t know anything,” Jagger protests.“She could’ve been manipulated or?—”
“She wouldn’t do that,” Hawke growls.
“What about the cameras?”I interject.June’s place isn’t the only one with a decked-out security system.How hadn’t we thought of it before?“We don’t need to speculate if we can find proof it was Morgan.”
Something sparks in Hawke’s gaze, and he collapses back in the chair, stealing his laptop from Roman’s bag.He must’ve asked Rome to grab it for him while we were at the house.
Smart.
As Hawke opens the laptop, tension builds in the room.None of us moves, afraid we’ll break our brother’s concentration.But if we find proof.If we find actual footage of the trespasser lighting a fire, it’ll be…it’ll be everything.
I sit on the edge of the couch, my knee bouncing in rhythm with the steady tap-tap of the keyboard.
We have him.Fuck, we have him.Sonofabitch messed with the wrong family if he honestly thought he could get away with torching our home.Hawke’s fingers click against the keyboard.The sound is like an anthem, and I take a deep breath, grateful we’re finally going to win one for once.After all the shit we’ve been dealing with, we’ve earned it.
The tapping ceases, and Hawke leans closer to the screen.A divot forms between his brows.“What the…?”
“Who is it?”I ask.
He shakes his head, his fingers tapping double-time.
