The Revenge by Tijan

I didn’t care.

I waited until she was done texting with Liam and had put the phone away, giving Matt a cautious look before sliding it all the way into her pocket. Once she was done, her shoulders straightened. She looked relieved.

“Great! Now we’re going to go and get a drink somewhere and you’re going to tell us all about Camille Story,” I said.

She paled. “I am?”

I moved forward, linking my arm with hers. “Yep, and then we’re going to figure out a way for you to get her out of her apartment and us into it. And we’re doing it tonight.”

“Tonight?”



* * *



Turns out Hoda sucked at being a spy.

She didn’t know anything about Camille Story, aka Matt’s obsessive past reject, aka psycho stalker of the world. I always thought Hoda was smart. She certainly had proclaimed herself to be in the past. But sitting across from her and taking in everything she could report on Camille Story, I had two theories—she was either incredibly real-life stupid or she was lying to us. Based on the fear on her face and the loathing that flared in her eyes when she talked about her current roommate, I was going with option A.

She was just real-life dumb.

I leaned forward, my hand on the table. There were three drinks between us. “You suck at this type of work.”

She flushed again. And this time I could tell, because she had settled back, her body returning to her normal color. She rolled her eyes, shoving back against her chair, and folded her arms over her chest. “I didn’t exactly sign up to join the CIA with this job. I was bitter and jealous.”

Matt grinned, picking up his whiskey. “See where that got you?”

Her eyes narrowed at him, and if looks could kill, Matt would’ve been a pile of dust, and whoosh, the wind would’ve swept him clean already.

He didn’t care. “So let’s get this straight. She reached out to you because you hated my adorable sister for a time.” He bumped his shoulder next to mine.

Hoda’s look of death lessened. It was more a look of injury now. “Yes, and I’m fully aware now how stupid I was.”

Matt’s eyes were twinkling. “Say it again.”

She made a disgruntled growl before looking at me. “Can you shut him up? Why is he here?”

I opened my mouth.

Matt threw an arm around my shoulders, raising his chin up in pride. “We’re Team Batt.”

I closed my mouth. That pretty much said it all.

Hoda’s eyes flicked harder to the ceiling. “Whatever. Look, I’m aware she worked me, because she did. She knows all about me and I learned nothing about her.”

“How could you live in someone’s place with them for months and not learn anything about that person?”

Matt was musing, but he was right.

Unless … “But she did.”

They both looked at me.

“Think about it. You said she had no pictures on her walls?”

Hoda nodded.

I kept on. “That says she either doesn’t like pictures or she doesn’t have anyone close to her. Did people call her? Did it sound like she made plans to go out with friends or talk to people on the phone?”

Hoda thought about it, then shrugged. “She likes pictures. I know that’s not the case. I did get a glimpse into her back room once and it was a mess. There were magazines everywhere, and the wall was plastered with them.”

“With magazines?”

She answered Matt. “Yeah. I mean, she cut them out, but it was a brief glance. The door shut right away, but it reminded me of my high school locker when I was a freshman. I had a crush on Justin Bieber that wasn’t healthy. Now it’s more BTS. I’ve progressed.”

Matt groaned, his head dropping to his hand. He rubbed at his forehead. “I didn’t need to know that. Neither of us needed to know that.”

“Whatever.” Hoda’s word and tone didn’t match. She sat back, her shoulders loosening. She looked refreshed, relieved. She reached for her mojito and finished it, circling her straw around it. “This was good. I want another one.”

Gah.

That was it. Everything was off her chest, and she was now feeling good about it.

I frowned. She still had one more thing to do for us. “Who does Camille like?”

“Besides Quinn?” Her shoulders grew tight again, just not as much as before. She darted a look at Matt. “I mean, your stepmother. I know she likes her, because that’s the only call she takes. She’ll gab for hours on the phone with her, but that’s in her room. I’ve tried eavesdropping to hear what they say, but she’s got her voice muffled inside there. It’s like she has on a fan or something. The room’s not soundproof, because I can still hear her in there.”

“They talk for hours?” Matt asked, sounding in pain. “I don’t even want to imagine what that bitch is saying to her.”

Hoda was nodding. “She is a bitch, but make no mistake, Camille is smart, and cunning, and she’s got the right amount of stalker tendencies to make her dangerous.”

Matt’s lips thinned.

I was pretty sure that’s not who he meant.

“Yeah.” He grunted. He tossed back the rest of his whiskey and looked up.

The waitress appeared out of nowhere, and I didn’t want to wonder if she was just watching for him to ask for another or if she’d been going past us. Knowing my brother, knowing how he was with girls, it was probably the first choice.