“She’s at the diner,” Clay announces, lowering the tablet to his lap, a map with a flashing dot visible on the screen.

Without saying a word, I turn my car in the direction of the shitty diner my little bird works at, and race through the streets of South Acres until I park in the lot outside a crumbling-looking building. The sign above the door—that might have had neon lights attached to it in its heyday—welcomes us to the Yummy Tummy diner, and I feel my nose wrinkle as I think about her working in this shithole.

“Jesus, this is a cesspit,” Evan says, pushing open his door and grimacing at the diner, like he can sense the salmonella from outside.

“Please tell me you don’t plan to actually eat here,” Hunter laughs.

Rolling my eyes, I ignore my friends as I climb out of my car, wait for them all to follow suit then lock it behind me. This is a shitty neighborhood and if I’d have known we were coming here, I’d have had one of The Elite wannabe’s follow us to keep watch over my car. My Mercedes isn’t particularly flashy, but it’s an eighty-thousand-dollar vehicle and I’d rather the wheels were still on it once I’ve collected my girl.

The bell above the door buzzes brokenly as I push it open and make my way into the run down, but surprisingly clean-looking restaurant. A harried-looking middle-aged woman wearing a pink-and-red waitress dress smiles at us from behind the counter. Grabbing menus, she strides over. “Hey there, boys, my name is Darlene, why don’t you follow me and I’ll get you set up.”

“We’re looking for Starling,” I tell her simply.

Her step falters and she glances nervously over her shoulder at us. “Her shift doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes, what do you want with her?”

My jaw clenches, and I open my mouth to demand that she get Starling out here right this fucking minute or I’ll get this health hazard of a diner shut down within the hour, but Hunter speaks before I can utter a word.

“We’re friends of hers from school, could we sit in her section and we’ll order some drinks while we wait?”

His voice is pure seduction and Darlene, who is easily old enough to be his mother, actually blushes. “Oh, you go to that fancy school over in North Acres?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Hunter winks.

“I should have guessed that from the uniforms.” She’s smiling now, all of the concern gone as she leads us to a different table from the one she was originally taking us to. “What can I get you to drink?”

“I’ll have root beer if you have it,” Hunter smiles, charming the older woman as easily as if she was one of his teenage fangirls at school.

“What about for you?” she asks me.

“Coffee, black, please.”

Clay and Evan order Cokes and she disappears into the back, returning a couple of minutes later with our drinks on a tray. “Here you go, Starling is just getting changed into her uniform, she’ll be out soon.”