Enzo

Derek Jonak was staying at a ritzy hotel in downtown Los Angeles under an alias. But I knew his face, and within two hours of arriving Tristan

and I were following him toward Pasadena.

“He’s pulling over.”

“I got him.” For someone who was trying to stay under the radar, Derek’s bright yellow rental car stood out like a beacon as he pulled off at a Whole Foods and went down into the covered parking lot. Or maybe he wasn’t trying to hide. Maybe he had actual business here and was too fucking full of himself to realize who he was messing with when he took a girl like...