“Are the girls okay?” “Currently taking over my house,” Thatcher grumbles. “No one is thrilled to be living with you, cactus. Don’t look so troubled about it.” “First night back and Rook’s already killed someone.” Alistair’s jaw twitches, running a frustrated hand across his mouth. “This place is a black fucking hole, not a home.” “I didn’t kill anyone. I drugged someone and helped them off a bridge. Two very different things in the eyes of the law.”
