“Does he look familiar to you?” she murmurs, and I shake my head. “I don’t exactly spend much time with dirty bikers, Floss.” She purses her lips at me, something she does when she thinks I’m being particularly stupid. I fucking hate it. “I need to speak to Atticus. I need to look into Lips’ background. We know nothing about who her family really is. Or her father.” I blink at her. What the fuck?
