Chapter 44
Daz said nothing the rest of the way home.
His face was like thunder. His stride was long and purposeful. But he said nothing—and that, more than anything, had Stefan shaking by the time they turned into the narrow street of terraced houses.
“D—Sir,” he tried when Daz unlocked the front door. “I’m sorry.”
“You will be,” came the cold reply, then the door was slammed behind them. “Upstairs. Spare room. Now.”
Stefan went, not daring to argue or hesitate. Daz had always said Stefan wouldn’t like being punished. Yannis had said it, too. So what—what was—
Once in the spare room, he stripped, hoping to appease Daz’s mood. The room was cold. But he didn’t dare so much as sit on the bed. Instead, he folded his clothes on the end of it, and stood naked and exposed, shivering, and w
