It can’t be that bad, right? Not if Matt is involved. He’s a Polo and loafers while playing golf kind of guy. Not a mysterious, I’ll chase you down in an alley and kill you type of vibe. “It’s like a cult,” I mumble to her. “If they try to brand our asses, we run for it.” Fuck the keys, cell phone, and ID. I can get new ones. She laughs like I’m joking.
