Keira turned sour, disbelief clear on her imperfect face. "Ryan is no snitch."
The mafia lord gave an unimpressed look, "You can't always give him excuses."
"Don't you say that only because you don't like my brother?"
"Well, that too–"
Keira glared, "Figures."
"But!" sending a glare of his own to the still silent teen behind the librarian, Nate continued, "I will prove that your beloved brother is a snitch sent by the police to sniff on me."
"Whatever. Until then, you better behave yourself and not pull another stunt that could kill me or my brother ever again. Understood?"
"Understood," Nate nodded with such conviction, reassuring no one because the next thing he said was, "I will behave myself and not pull another stunt that could kill you ever again."
"Or my brother," she grounded.
"You heard me right."
