Page 71 of The Stalker Snafu

Julian nodded, and Rafe winced.

“Shit,” both twins muttered, sharing a weighted glance.

“Well, that doesn’t sound good,” I muttered, sitting back down. “Who is he?”

“No one good,” Adrian answered grimly, and I stared when no one offered anything more.

“That’s it?” I asked. “How bad can he be if he was at a swanky party like that?”

“Depends on how you define ‘bad,’” Rafe answered. He leaned back and crossed his arms. His eyes leveled with mine, and it felt like a dare. “Would you say drug dealers are generally bad guys?”

My eyes widened in alarm, and I grabbed the armrests. “He’s a drug dealer?”

“Calm down.” Julian straightened his glasses. “He’s more of a… supplier.”

“He’s in the cartel,” Adrian tacked on helpfully, earning an elbow in the side from his brother as Julian cursed.

My lips parted as Rafe sent his carbon copy a sharp look. “Don’t tell her that shit.”

I blinked, still not computing what Adrian had said. “He’s in the what?”

“The cartel,” Adrian repeated a little slower before turning to his twin. “I’m sorry, but she’s in it now, Rafe.”

“That doesn’t mean you need to go off book. We can’t trust her,” his brother snapped back.

I swallowed, recalling the older man from the party. He’d seemed friendly enough—not like a murderous drug supplier who belonged to a criminal empire. Then again, if there was one thing I’d learned from my crime shows, it was that it was never the person you most suspected.

The same could be applied to Noah.

My lips twisted into a grimace. “But it doesn’t make any sense. Why would Noah be talking to someone in a… a cartel?”

I felt silly just saying the word, and for such a big room it sure felt like it was getting smaller as Julian began to pace.

“What matters right now is Santiago Florez knows you go to Westcroft, that you’re dating Noah, and he has your name,” he said, unusually calm for speaking on a subject that felt like it belonged in a college textbook. Was he still talking about a cartel? Nobody else seemed appropriately alarmed by that. “If his people see Noah on the List and panic, they could go after you to make sure he doesn’t talk. And trust me, it wouldn’t be hard for them to find your dorm.”

The little hairs on my arms stuck up at the mental images that produced, but my mind struggled to keep up.

Why did no one else seem alarmed by this?

“You think a—a cartel” —I stumbled over the word again, still not believing it as a nervous chuckle escaped— “would come after me because of Noah? That’s crazy!”

Julian’s smile was rueful. “It’s not as crazy as you think.”

My chuckling died down at that, and I cleared my throat to hide how uncomfortable I was. “Does this have anything to do with the secret phone call you and Noah had?”

“It doesn’t feel like much of a secret anymore,” Julian muttered, ignoring Rafe and Adrian’s sharp looks. “It might have something to do with that, but I can’t know for sure.”

“Well, do you know what Noah did that was so bad? I mean, it’s not like he’s in the cartel.”

The way everyone avoided eye contact with me after that was super reassuring.

What did they know that I didn’t?

Why weren’t they concerned their friend was a fugitive?

Julian pressed his lips together. “Since we don’t know the details, it’ll be safer for you to stay here until we get this straightened out.”

“Straightened out?” I echoed, blinking at him. “Um, I’m not sure if you’ve forgotten, but Noah is on the FBI Most Wanted List. Not the Missing Persons list or the Baskin Robbins Birthdays of the Month list. He’s on a mother-flipping government agency’s list for extremely dangerous criminals. Criminals, Julian.”