“So, Maddox,” she says, swirling her wine, eyes sharp with challenge. “What are your intentions with my best friend?” Frankie asks, dead serious. “And please keep in mind that Dante and I watch a lot of true crime, and I’m disturbingly confident I could get away with murder.” I sputter. “Frankie!” She grins. “Relax, babe. I’m sure he’s great. But you know… just in case.” Dante doesn’t even flinch, just lifts his glass in agreement. “She’s not kidding. We live near a swamp. Bodies disappear there all the time.” “Oh my god,” I hiss, covering my face but feeling very well protected nonetheless.
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