She gathers herself despite the fire bomb of information I just laid on her. Or tries to, anyway. Meanwhile, my heart’s doing a never-ending drumroll inside my chest.
“You snooped through my phone?” Her eyes narrow in on me. I refuse to feel bad for that shit, though. “I didn’t know you were such a busybody, Stiles.”
Her attempt at throwing some guilt my way fails.
“Yeah, well, that’s what I do. I investigate shit. But what I didn’t know is that you were such good friends with the one guy who might be behind all this bullshit we’ve been sifting through.” My voice echoes through the apartment. Color me angry.
Her body shifts as her words drift off, and there goes the hair behind her ear. “I was trying to─”
“Play both sides of the fence? Yeah, heard that one before.”
“I wasn’t going to say that.” She’s still calm. It drives me fucking insane.
“Then what were you gonna say, Green?” I sit my ass down onto the edge of the couch. “Please share. ’Cause I’m dying to hear this bullshit.”
She crosses her arms and rubs them like she’s cold. Only it’s not cold in here. Unless she’s feeling the effects of my steely demeanor, in which case, it’s definitely fucking freezing.
“Where do you want me to start?”
Hmmm. So many options. “Is Walker the texter?”
“No.” Her answer is immediate, which means either she knew I’d ask that question and she was prepared, or Walker really isn’t the texter. Something I’m not sure I’m willing to accept just yet.
Now I’m pissed the fuck off that I didn’t write the goddamn number down when I saw it before bolting earlier. Something that should have come to mind pretty easily, except that when it comes to Green, my brain doesn’t quite function on all cylinders. At least, not the ones sitting roughly three inches above my shoulders.
“Then who is it? Who wants intel on Stiles?”
Green let’s some oxygen leave her chest. “I don’t know. Exactly.” She plays with a section of the sofa cushion fabric. Her actions are like a kid caught with her hands in the tip jar at the pizza joint down the road. Only there’s something else there behind her words.
Relief?
There’s also some reluctance when it comes to whoever this person is. We can come back to the mystery texter later.
And we will be coming the fuck back to that shit. Believe me.
“What were you and Walker meeting about then? Must’ve been important. And something he didn’t want anyone to know about since it was off premises and shit.
Now, she peeks over at me. Shy and new. Just like that day I met her on the scene of her first crime.
I know better, though.
“It was awkward, really.”
“You looked pretty fucking comfortable to me.”
Her eyes shoot to mine. “I was just trying to─”
“Trying to what?” I’m a little too jacked up right now to play nice. “Join the official anti-Jackson movement and make me look like a fucking asshole? Walker give you a special pin or some shit? I hope so. Damn, Green. Tell me he gave you a special fucking pin.”
“He didn’t─”
“That’s fucked up. I’d go tell that dick you want your goddamn pin, and you want it now.”
“I─”
“That way, next time I see you, I’ll know which fucking side you’re on. No question.”
“Jesus, Stiles.” She raises her voice. “Would you please just. Shut. The Fuck. Up!”
The screaming catches me off guard and lights a fire in my nether regions. Despite the fact I’m on a roll here, I find myself, indeed, shutting the fuck up. It’s enough to let her say what she’s been waiting to say since I started in on her.
And when I say attitude, I mean, you know, yelling.
She levels her anger and lowers her voice again.
“Walker’s been trying to contact me for days. When we started putting him into the equation of this Donnie Leary thing, I thought, why not meet with him? Maybe I can find something out that would help.”
“And?”
“And, so, I called him back this morning. He told me it was his understanding that you and I are…” This is where she gets uncomfortable. “That I’m…” She’s fumbling her words. “He was under the impression you and I are close.”
An abrupt bark of a laugh escapes me. “Why the fuck would he think that?”
Were we getting there in our own, strangely workable kinda way? Maybe, but now? I don’t have a goddamn clue.
Green lets out a vengeful sigh, and her eyes shoot me a warning. I back off and let her finish.
It’s the polite thing to do.
“I got the impression my name came up in a conversation or two that he had with your brother.”
Nick.
Fucker.
“I don’t think Nick did it maliciously, for what it’s worth.” She can tell what I’m thinking now? When did that happen? “It seems more to me like Walker is good at using every bit of information he collects to his advantage.”
I give her that one. Walker is a douche, after all.