“What?” I shout. “No way. Do you know how hard—”
He cuts me off with a pound of his fist on the counter. In two steps, he’s in front of me, bracing his hands on either side, putting his face in mine. “You’re an i***t if you think Emilio is going to let you get away with taking his car. I know him, he’d rather kill you and bury the body in the desert than have you flaunting his loss to God and everyone. The only thing you can hope for is to let him buy it back so he can save face.” He slaps both palms on the counter and pushes back. “Besides, what type of i***t posts on Twitter when they’re in hiding from a drug dealer?”
Even just a few days ago, Jack’s temper would’ve had me backing up and eyeing him wearily. I know him better now. He doesn’t scare me. But he does have a point. What I ne
