I scowl at him. “Why not?”
“Maybe because you sent his cousin to juvie,” Saint grumbles.
Before I can answer, Ronique comes prancing over, walking in a way I’ve never seen her do before, clearly trying to look sexy. I marvel at the effect my brother can have on such a normally level-headed, sensible girl.
“Saint,” she whines. “Why didn’t you come to the party on Saturday? I thought we were going to meet up.”
“Something came up,” he says with a dismissive glance, turning back to his chicken breast.
Seemingly oblivious, she sits down across his lap and loops an arm around his neck. “You said we’d hang out after,” she wheedles. “I wore something special.”
I try not to choke, try to tell myself she doesn’t mean what I think she means.
“You really didn’t have to do that,” Saint says, sounding annoyed. “I told you, we don’t have to rearrange our lives for each other.”
“I know,” she says, pouting. “I still went to the party like you told me to. I just wanted to do something special for you.”
“Maverick’s not going to talk business with an outsider,” Angel says, ignoring the couple across from him and scooping up a bite of mashed potatoes.
I’m so grateful for the distraction I could kiss him.
“I’m not an outsider,” I point out. “I’m your girlfriend.”
“You’re not a Crossbone,” Heath clarifies.
“Let me try,” I say. “I’m sure I can convince him.”
“Absolutely the fuck not,” Angel says. “I’m not leaving you alone with him.”
“He’s not some random gangster,” I point out. “It’s your family.”
“They’re still Crosses,” he says. “Maverick’s chill when you’re on his side. When you’re not…”
“He’s still a gangster,” Heath says.
“I can handle it,” I insist. “How else are we going to find out what he knows?”
“He’s not going to tell you,” Angel says.
“I know he’s your cousin, but objectively, how well do you know him?” I ask.
“Really fucking well. He’s not a killer.”
“Don’t you have to be?” I ask. “To get into the Skull and Crossbones?”
“It’s not something most people enjoy,” Angel says soberly. “It takes something from you. A part of your soul.”
I shiver and turn to Heath.
He shrugs and looks away. “I don’t know him that well. I’ve ridden along when he needed a guy, but we don’t talk about my sister or that kind of shit.”
“Please?” I ask, turning back to Angel.
He sighs. “You can come. But let me ask the questions. Keep your mouth shut and don’t expect to learn anything you don’t already know.”
I’m about to protest being talked to that way, but then I look up and see Ronique kissing Saint’s neck, and I decide Angel is exactly perfect.
“I’m going back to my room,” I say, pushing back from the table. “I’ve lost my appetite.”
