Chapter Fifteen
Tres’s lip curled as he gripped my fist in the palms of his large hands. One by one, he unfurled my fingers from their clenched fist, like he was replacing the safety on a c****d gun. Once my fingers were straight, he lowered my hand, but he didn’t step away. Nor did he let go of my fingers. The rough pad of his thumb brushed over my fingertips and knuckles.
“Why would I be following you?” he asked. His voice was low. He spoke slowly, enunciating each syllable. “This is my land.”
That broke his little snake-charming spell. I blinked, and my head jerked back. In the distance, I caught his name on a billboard. I turned my gaze back on him, nearly spitting my words at him. “You cannot own land.”
Tres quirked an eyebrow, along with one side of his mouth. “I have a piece of
