POV’s Tate
I grabbed a small bandaid, using it to patch over the scrape.
As I went to do the same to the others, I began speaking. “What did Zeke say to you on the ice?” I asked quietly.
I patched up one of the other cuts as Philip stayed quiet.
Once I was done with his face, I sat down on the bed normally, bringing his right hand into my lap. His knuckles were all cut up. I clicked my tongue as I held his hand in mine, bringing a new wipe to clean the cuts there.
Philip’s hand twitched.
I looked up at him, waiting for his answer.
Philip let out a long breath. “I don’t want to repeat the crap he was saying.”
I sighed, continuing my ministrations.
Philip then opened his mouth. “He mentioned something about me using you for connections to your grandfather.” Philip gave me a question
