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Callie's eyes suddenly narrow. “You were pissed about that car.”

Smoke looks at her. “What?”

“When you sent me the pictures. You were bitching about the owner.”

“I bitch about most owners.”

“No. This was different.” She bites her lip, thinking.

I stay quiet. So does Smoke.

“You said he kept changing his mind.”

Something shifts in Smoke's expression.

“The console,” she says.

Smoke straightens.

“He had you take something apart.”

“Center console.”

“And then he changed his mind?”

“Twice.”

Callie points at him. “That's what you told me.”

Smoke's gaze goes distant.

I lean forward. “What?”

He doesn't answer.

“Smoke.”

His eyes snap to mine.

“When I pulled the console the second time, I found something.”

Every muscle in my body tightens. “What?”

“A flash drive.”

Fuck.

Callie goes still beside me.

“Where is it?” I ask.

Smoke looks at me. “Why?”

“Where is it?”

“I'm not handing shit to some guy I met five minutes ago just because Callie says you're a hitman.”

“Good.”