Page 226 of Remorseless

“Tell me about yourself.” If she looked at Kaia as someone to get to know rather than a potential boyfriend, then she could act normally with him. “Start from the beginning.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Plans. Aspirations. The usual.”

“I can’t afford college and my dream of going pro football shattered with an injury. I’ve thought about becoming a welder or an electrician. My dad’s a contractor.”

So boring and ordinary. “You’ve also thought about becoming a biker.”

“That’s a pipe dream, babe. I’d need a sponsoranda Harley.”

“Start coming to the club,” she advised. “Become a hangaround. I’m not sure how long you have to do that before you move to Probate status. You can earn money from the club some kind of way. Diesel did.”

“You know a lot.” Admiration filled his voice. “Your mom schools you.”

“Nope. Whatever Daddy tells Momma, she reveals to no one. Hopefully, it isn’ttoomuch. She cannot lie at all. If an enemy ever got her, she’d be fucked. If the police interrogated her, Daddy might be fucked. I listen and I observe. That’s how I know so much.”

Before he commented, D. Elliot finally returned, carrying a tray with rolls, calamari and marinara sauce, bread and butter, and iced tea.

“It’s about time,” Rebel grumbled, snatching a roll before he sat the basket down and biting off half of it. “Did you have to fish for the squid yourself?”

Kaia stared at her and cocked his head to the side.

She grabbed the butter knife and butter dish, slathering a hefty amount over her remaining bread. “Taste the bread,” she ordered. “It is still warm. It’s delicious. Honestly. Although D. tried to starve me, I’ve had it before when I wasn’t half as hungry.”

D. Elliot smiled as she snatched two more rolls. “Sorry, Reb. I was called away a minute.”

Placing one of the rolls on a small plate, she slid it to Kaia, then nodded to D. Elliot. “It’s fine. As long as you don’t throw us out before closingandcall my mom to tell her I will miss my curfew unless she wants me to die from hunger because you couldn’t get to our orders immediately.”

“I’ll be sure to mention that to her, Reb.”

“I want the Greek couscous salad,” she said.

“And you?” D. Elliot asked, looking at Kaia.

“Oh, uh, lettuce and tomatoes with a dollop of mayo.”

D. Elliot nodded politely. “I’ll try to be quicker.”

“I’ve never had calamari,” Kaia admitted once D. Elliot walked away.

Rebel placed her napkin in her lap, picked up her fork, and stole several pieces of fried squid from the serving plate. She stuffed one into her mouth.

“You do realize most girls would pretend they aren’t hungry or at least wait until I try some?”

She couldn’t detect his underlying meaning. He wasn’t just saying that to hear himself talk. “According to you, most girls would pay for your fucking dinner.”

“Everything,” he stressed. “But they’d wait to see if I liked something—”

“Then they’re fucking stupid. I’m starving. Nor am I responsible foryoueating. If you don’t like calamari, oh-fucking-well. I love the dish.”

She put half the portion on her plate. Kaia watched her every move. “They get very rubbery if they’re overcooked.”

He popped a piece into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “A cross between chicken and shrimp.”

Rebel wouldn’t have described the fried squid in such a manner, but whatever.

Chapter Forty-Two