BREN
I was sitting outside at the patio table, alone.
Everyone left. Jordan took Tabatha for a drive, but I was assuming both would be back to stay the night here. Zellman got a call from someone and took off for their house. He was now resorting to quick text updates with a random name like this last one.
Zellman: Headed to Biff’s. Back later.
Me: Who the hell is Biff?
Zellman never answered. Neither did Jordan, because Zellman’s text was to the whole crew. The back door opened a minute later. Cross came out, carrying his phone in one hand and a drink in the other. He paused as the door closed behind him and looked up from his phone and then at me.
“Who’s Biff?”
I sighed, slumping down in my chair. “f**k’s sake. How are we supposed to go and get him if we don’t know who Biff is?”
